Rector's Ramblings

Off now to The Gambia for three weeks, and a chance to catch up with the school we run in Serrekunda. It's work, but it's not, and three weeks of sunshine is a brilliant way to get over the monsoons of November/December in Scotland!

The Third World is a hard place to get an internet connection, but I'll try hard to keep this blog up to date as I go along!

I fly to London tomorrow evening, in preparation to fly to The Gambia for three weeks! Oh! The stress!

Meant to recount where the word "sundry" came from...

I was in the petrol station on Monday night when one youth asked another what Santa had brought him. The answer was, "Sundry Gifts"! One wonders what was in the pile? Ah! The magic of Christmas!

After the incredibly depressing Christmas Edition of Casualty, and poor Josh & Ellen), another death in Eastenders, and sundry other people "on the box" suffering and dying for our entertainment, wasn't it fantastic to see The Vicar of Dibley getting engaged?? See - the clergy to the rescue again!

"Time and trouble will tame an advanced young woman, but an advanced old woman is uncontrollable by any earthly force" - Dorothy L Sayers.

So I am reminded of those words as I look around at what the Rectory Wife has achieved, either from her sick bed, or since her arising, (not too good but dare to stand in her way!) Pleas of "Slow down!", "Relax", "Take a wee rest", etc etc, have gone totally unheeded, but here we are at Advent 4, or Christmas Eve to the uninitiated, and Christmas is all arranged, and ready. Brick walls would not have stopped her!

Nothing short of miraculous - and I'm ready for my bed!

After a morning of fighting through Woolworths and sundry other shoppies, I was restless, irritable, and discontent. The pressure of Christmas looming and stuff not done was really getting to me.

Then I met this young woman who comes around the place at lunchtime. She has breast cancer and the chemo isn't going too well. However, her smile lit up my day.

And we moan about pressure.....

One of the comgregation had a lovely tale today. His son, an opera singer, (yes, we DO breed culture in Dumbarton), was visiting this week, and decided to go into the barber's shop for a wee trim. The conversation got around to the usual, "And what do you do?" "I'm an opra singer!", he replied. "Wow said the barber, you are the second opera singer we've had in here this week."

Just shows you... you wait all year for an opera singer and two come at once!

I got really irked today by another article from another expert condoning methadone maintenance as an alternative treatment for heroin addicts. Have these folk ever actually walked the streets of our towns and cities and spoken to people? Methadone relaces heroin but is harder to kick. I know this! I was in treatment, for alcoholism, in Castlecraig Clinic, just 7 years ago, watching kids come off methadone, and it's horrific compared with coming off heroin.

There is a solution! Get proper rehab places established now, and introduce these poor victims to a 12 Step programme that works. Either that, or just give them heroin. It's a much better option than methadone.

We are off to The Gambia on the 28th, so went in to order travellers cheques. Do you realise that they won't debit my account for the amount until I produce my passport? This branch has now seen my passport more often than passport control at Glasgow and Gatwick put together, they know me well, (as you can imagine), but I still need to show my passport before they can debit my account. How silly is that?

Found a little bundle of unsent Christmas cards this morning, so had to rush down to the PO in the forlorn hope that they'll get there before Christmas! The problem with sending cards late is that everyone thinks your card has only been sent cos they sent one, firstly, to you! I always swear to be more organised next year, and this Christmas is no exception!

On a brighter note, the RW is back and work and recovering well. I'm still carrying a mild form of the cold, which in a man, is almost fatal! I'll die quietly... after Christmas.

I attended a Case Conference today in a Sheltered Housing Complex in Balloch. The member of St Auggie's who is over 80 was "talked at", very loudly, by a senior social worker whose people skills left much to be desired, in my opinion. His accommodation is only temporary, and eventually he will go home to a pretty grotty flat in Dumbarton. Well, he'll be happy to go home, but the bottom line is that he'll not cope two days on his own. There are all sorts of promises about home care, and three folk coming in every day to dress, feed and toilet. Aye! These promises are seldom kept, as we have found in previous cases. Sometimes I think the way we speak to, and deal with older people is simply appalling, and today was no exception. The man is very happy where he is, but can't stay there indefinitely.

On the way out, the carer at the complex asked me if he was going anywhere for lunch on Christmas Day. The answer is "no", cos any family he has have not invited him. The unspoken question lingered... "Why do you not have him Rector?" I imagine my family on Christmas Day, and my own elderly father, and chicken out. However, the guilt lingers on! Maybe the Rectory should be the place where all the waifs and strays who have nobody else can come for Christmas Day, but I can't really draw the rest of my family into my pastoral responsibilities. Guilt? Wow!

After protestations, the Royal Bank agreed to cut the charge to £30. Thankful for small mercies, and a "mole" who helped do the business!

Cos I have little to say today, the RW still ill, and the Christmas cards written at last, I steal more and share with you this gem....

Yor car may be a "he"
Your car may be a "she"
But it ain't gay, o.k?

From THE BBC:
Derogatory references to homosexuality made by Top Gear's Jeremy Clarkson had the potential to offend and should not have been broadcast, the BBC has ruled. Four complaints from viewers have been upheld after he agreed with an audience member that a car was "a bit gay", on a programme screened in the UK in July. The presenter also described the vehicle as "very ginger beer", taken to be rhyming slang for the term "queer".

The Top Gear team had been reminded of the importance of avoiding such comments about "sexual orientation", it added.

God help us all!

Since we are in the "Stealing Season", I nicked this from another Site! I have to say this in no way represents the folk of St Augustine's Dumbarton!

Discovered today that I've been robbed on two fronts. The Rectory Wife had been in Portugal on business and had brought me 1000 cheap cigarettes, for myself and other sinners. Imagine my dismay to find them gone from my study, along with my digi camera. Someone has been very "opportunist" and has managed to sneak in when the back door has been lying open for the dog.

Don't know who is more despicable... the thief or the Royal Bank.

Bank statement this morning! Seems I overdrew on my account during November, by a few pounds. An honest mistake. I've been charged £90, yes £90 for this misdemeanor. Feel like telling the Royal Bank where to stuff their account, but the other guys are just as bad! To lose £90 just before Christmas and just before going to The Gambia is a disaster. It may mean I'll be a trifle overdrawn this month... so... another £90? No wonder these guys make so much money every second.

As the RW was no better yesterday, and indeed the old chest seemed to be worse, a telephone call to NHS 24 provided an appointment within the hour with an out-of-hours GP at the Vale of Leven hospital. Now, considering that the RW's GP needs about a week's notice of your illness before he can see you, this was impressive stuff. Speaking to folk about this since, I'm told it's definitely the best, easiest and quickest way to see a doctor these days in this part of the world.

However, although some anti-biotics were forthcoming, the RW is still poorly and feeling cheated today. She'd already penned in today as her last holiday off work for the year - and here she's off sick anyway. Not much cheer around the Rectory at the moment - but things can only get better!

It was agreed fairly early on that the RW's bug was much more virulent than mine - actually it was - and so, I've been head pooh-bah, in charge of everything for three days now. Food shopping is a very rusty skill of mine, obviously, and three times now I've got to a checkout to be reprimanded by a wee girl who says things like - "You know you get one free if you buy this?" and I'm promptly sent back down the aisles to collect my freebie. This is usually past a waiting queue who could obviously see me far enough. I've been thinking of buying two of everything in case it happens again.

The other reprimand goes, "That's on offer, if you buy two, (or three or whatever), it works out at less than the cost of two. Try declining these offers! I have argued that I don't really want two, or three for that matter, but declining only seems to make the assistant call for more assistance, and I can feel the glares burning into the back of my head from those behind me. Ok Ok! I'll take two! The dog can have one!

Then comes the crunch... "Do you have a Dividend Card/Loyalty Card/Lonely Hearts Club Band Card?" Eh! No, I don't! Then comes the telling off for not having one of these super duper things which everyone else seems to be clutching.

Ach I'm going to phone the fast food joints from here on in, and just get them to deliver. The Pizza man never asks for my loyalty card, and certainly doesn't do free offers - even at Christmas!

Yesterday saw me wake up full of the cold, deadful headache, and sickness. I was feeling extremely sorry for myself until the Rectory wife was sent home from work in the afternoon, almost at death's door, poor child. Needs must, (The RW is never ever off work - so she must be very ill), and so I've been chief cook and bottle washer and shopping fairy for almost 24 hours now!Poor woman! As if she doesn't have enough to cope with!

As I've read elsewhere, the best plan is to go to bed last, then there's no queue behind you! If the RW survives my cooking and tea-making, my nursing and lack of sympathy, (I try!), then there might be a Christmas celebrated here. Otherwise, it's sausage and chips forever! Now, there's a thought!

Ok. I have a Sky box. I have a dish. Everything is connected OK. So, I phone Sky to ask for a viewing card to activate the box thing under my telly. Now, OK, these guys are busy "at this time of year", (I'm not), but I started trying at 4.30pm. At 8.45pm I tried again, and eventually at 10.30pm I had joy! Someone would just send me out a card. Oh joy joy! That's all I wanted! Four numbers later I succeeded! I hung on a phone for over 80 minutes with someone telling me my call was important to them!

Now, this seriously affected my relationship with the Rectory wife, who wanted a peaceful, easy evening. So did I!!

Meanwhile I had been offered a new box, ten engineers, nine free months, eight priests-a-preaching, seven choir members singing, 6 non-stipendiaries, 5 bishops crooks, 4 scart plugs, 3 cable cards, 2 wise men, and a free ticket for Firhill.

OK I made the last one up.

Isn't it incredible? All I wanted was a card, and I had to endure 90 minutes of hell. I get that watching Thistle every second Saturday, so c'mon guys..... I wanted to buy something. Why was it so hard?

Yes, I enrol myself into the corridors of the Grumpy Old Men!

Well, despite or I think and say about Christmas lights and grottos adorning gardens around here even before Advent has begun, and how we should at least give Advent a fair crack of the whip before we usher in Christmas, I have reluctantly retrieved the tree from the loft and installed it in the corner of the living room.

I'm reminded by the Rectory wife that, yet again, we travel to The Gambia right after my Christmas duties are done, (28th), and yet again the tree was destined to be enjoyed for less than a week before we travel. So, I've given in and up it went! Here's me without a Christmas Card written - or even thought about! However, it IS bonnie!

I howled this morning at this link! Thanks to MadPriest for pointing this one out!

http://wordofmike.wordpress.com/2006/12/11/hello-im-a-christ-follower/

The Rectory wife is well known for her eccentricity, but even I was gobsmacked to see her all dressed up for a night in the town with workmates. They were off last evening to watch an Abba Tribute band - ah well, there's no accounting for taste! Would you sleep soundly at night, lying beside any one of these nutcases?

The alarm went off, as usual on a Sunday, at 7.30am. The wind and rain were battering the window (again). "Oh no", I thought to myself! I'm just going to stay in bed this morning. "But you can't" said the voice beside me. (I, obviously, had been thinking aloud.) "You're the priest!"

Ah well! However the joys of Sunday morning soon took over. I enjoy my job. Someone at trhe 9am service commented that they were getting used to me. After 5 years! The 11am service had 50+ souls present, despite the dreadful weather, and I got home feeling satisfied with a decent morning's work.

The weekend was complete after Partick Thistle romping to a 5-2 win yesterday, and Dumbarton drawing Celtic in the Scottish Cup. Even the dog is smiling!

Ach, ok! I can't resist it! Here's the photo of Oor Pete with a Celtic scarf on!

Well, managed, with the grace of God, and masses of adrenaline, to hold up fine for Pete's funeral, and had most folks laughing over some of his most colourful sayings and actions. We managed to squeeze about 300 into a church that normally seats about 120, so Dr Who watch out! St Augustine's may have the qualities of a Tardis after all.

Peter was a lifelong supporter of Glasgow Rangers, but used to joke constantly about the religious divide in the West of Scotland. A bigot he was not! However, when we joked about his funeral, he always insisted that the first hymn should be "The Sash", followed by "The Fields of Athenry" at the offering! ("It's the only way we'll get money out of the Roman Catholics" he would say!). At the end today, I reckoned a rousing chorus of "No Surrender" would be appropriate, with a last walk up the High Street, probably stopping at the bookies on the way to the Crematorium!

Farewell good and faithful friend. Rest in Peace and Rise in Glory!

Took my friend's body into church tonight and, shit, cried! How unprofessional! However, I'm confident that I'll be fine tomorrow! I've been ordained for 28 years and that's the first time I've gone to bits in public. Expecting about 300 tomorrow in church - God knows where I'll put them all!

Every now and then my little heart sings when I read something sensible in the newspapers. Today was a beauty, as the report told me that the Iraq study group, chaired by George W's bestest friend basically said, "Let's talk to our enemies and get the hell out of Iraq!" Now, there's someone who has actually cottoned on to something that most sane sensible folk have been thinking for a long long time!

Found this, and thought, "Oh Yes!"

http://revjph.blogspot.com/2006/12/lets-get-this-straight.html

I'm new to this Blogging idea, but even after the first couple of days I realise that it could turn out to be the Rector's moans rather than his ramblings! Maybe I should get the dog to do it, as he's much more upbeat than I am.

Really, it's been a rather depressing week, begun on Sunday with the death of a St Auggie's institution, and good good friend, Peter McMartin. Peter helped me enormously, and through his AA commitment, probably is responsible for saving hundreds of lives in Dumbarton through the years. I will miss him greatly, as will the congregation.

He turned my office into a perpetual AA meeting, and all sorts of odds and sausages would wander in and out every morning of the week.

Funeral on Friday, and not one I'm looking forward to!

Usually by December 5th, my local community, in Bellsmyre, is awash with fairy lights and those awful things which light up otherwise untended gardens, turning them into something which reminds one of Las Vegas. I'm usually trying to work through the mysteries of Advent, and "Lo", the lights scream out, "It's Christmas!" No it isn't! It's Advent!

The reason for the lack of lights? It's been raining so hard for so long that nobody has had a chance to pop out and do the decorating. However, this morning's blue sky may just give them the opportunity to turn this place into Tinseltown overnight! "Bah Humbug"? No! Just a plea that Christmas isn't here yet, despite what the telly tries to tell us!

Monday, as my "day off" is spent, yet again, sheltering from the dreadful rain in the West of Scotland! The last month has been horrendous, prompting some folk to contemplate building an ark. Webbed feet are expected on babies due to be born in a Maternity Unit near you, as a consequence of evolution in these parts, but at least we can boast a very green nation, with plenty of water!

Yesterday evening was spent at Bishop's House, a cute informal gathering of clergy and their spouses from Glasgow North West Region of the old Scottish Episcopal Church. Good food, and pleasant surroundings, but long conversations on the theology of the Eucharist, with a brother cleric, was not what I had in mind, and numbed the brain at the end of a busy Sunday.