Yesterday the carcass of a dead Canada goose was lumped on the towpath, bedraggled and broken. A sad sight. I can only suppose a fox killed it, but it had clearly been in the water and been fished out. Rather odd.
A new goose has appeared, just a little larger than a Canada goose, and very similar, but with a white neck,white markings on the head, and orange bill and legs. I suspect it is a cross between a Canada goose and a white farm goose; but how has this happened? And how did it end up on our canal?
Today a colleague told of a firm of undertakers who didn't pay him, saying after the funeral, "Oh, we thought it was up to you to sort that out." No! It certainly isn't. The undertaker is meant to "undertake" all the arrangements on your behalf, and pay all the bills for you (the clue is in the name). That's how it has always worked. A rather alarming development if they are routinely doing that. I was also told there is a firm of undertakers whom the crem will only take a booking from if paid upfront.
A fox has started excavating my garden, but I can't understand why. It doesn't seem to be digging a hole to live in, nor is it succeeding in digging anything up, but it's certainly turning over a lot of earth. I don't want Casimir to disturb it, though he'd probably send it packing. He is a little subdued at present after getting a nasty wound in a vicious fight last week. I imagine the other cat had wounds at least as bad, as Casimir seemed to be winning, and chased the other when it made its getaway. Still, two nasty tooth marks in his cheek have resulted in antibiotics that need to be smuggled into his food. I also bathe it with saline. Of course we didn't see the wound until it started to suppurate and stink. Lovely creatures, pussy-cats!
I was in Sainsburys at Maida Hill the other Sunday, collecting my paper, and was queued up behind a young woman with two baskets of shopping, food and cleaning materials, that suggested to me that she had just moved into a new home. We were some time waiting for a person to negotiate for cigarettes and pay, and during this time a large woman with a plastic carrier bag appeared at the far end of the tills and hovered. When the till was free the Sainsburys employee called the young woman in front of me forward, but the large hovering woman immediately marched in front of her. The employee said, "There's a queue," and pointed, but the large woman said to the young woman, "Oh, but I was here first before you pushed in." The young woman was understandably taken aback and said, "Did I push in?" to which she got the reply, "Well I was here. Don't get upset." The Sainsburys employee clearly didn't want to serve her, but she was occupying the till, removing items from the random plastic bags she was carrying, and the young woman just shrugged, being told again, "Don't get upset." She was eventually served after the large woman left, and with that a second till was opened; as I presented my paper, I leaned across and said to her, "Welcome to the Harrow Road." It really was a thoroughly Harrow Road incident, with an eccentric claiming black is white and making you feel guilty for being rational.
The roads are now being dug up for fibre broadband, in a sudden outbreak of activity. At least the contractors seem to work quickly, but they just appear out of nowhere, and suddenly your route has turned single-track. It's quite disconcerting to return from an appointment to find this has happened. I'm sure it will be a good thing, but will it actually make any difference if your actual connection from your house to the network is old-fashioned copper wire?
We are preparing for our big event of the year on Saturday, the Requiem for All Souls' Day, with choirs and orchestra. This year our neighbours at St Augustine's, Kilburn, are joining us to commemorate all the faithful departed, which will be good. Some people don't approve of prayer for the dead, but it makes perfect sense to me: we pray for everyone we care about, living or dead, and are linked with them all in that great network of prayer. People regularly say how moved they have been by the service, using great music in its proper spiritual context. We always have a French Romantic setting of the Requiem Mass: sometimes it is a little-known one, but sometimes it is a great setting. This year we are using the setting by Durufle (who was president of the St Mary Magdalene Music Society in the 1960s). It should be a powerful act of worship.
Wednesday 30 October 2019
Wednesday 23 October 2019
THE HEART OF THE NATION
Migration Watch
There were two Home Office immigration enforcement vans parked in Goldney Road yesterday. I saw no activity, but no doubt the Border Force officers were in a flat somewhere. A few weeks ago I saw a similar van cruising along the Harrow Road. I wonder whether they are regular visitors to Belgravia as well?
Meanwhile, the Anglican Communion Office at the United Nations (who knew there was such a thing?) urges us to pray for forced migration because of climate change. This causes me some discomfort, as it is frankly tendentious. Most of the world's migrants are looking for a better life, or fleeing war or civil strife. Anyone migrating because of climate change at the moment (and I'm not sure there is anyone) is choosing to do so, not being forced. If Bangladesh or the Seychelles are flooded, then people will certainly be forced to migrate, but unless I've missed it, I don't think this has happened yet. It is the case that people are being forced to leave their homes on the Suffolk coast as they fall into the sea (as they have been doing for hundreds of years) but that's not what we're being asked to pray about. Our friends at the Anglican Communion Office are attempting to establish the notion that climate change is responsible for migration, and that therefore we in the West are guilty, and so can't complain. We are expected to feel guilty for the effects of colonialism, which have been alleged to be responsible for migration in the past, and now for climate change as well, and so the idea is being presented that we should just accept migration as the consequences of our own sinfulness. Well, I'm all in favour of a generous immigration regime, but I'm afraid I don't buy the guilt. In fact, people choose to migrate to the West because these are prosperous, peaceful and relatively uncorrupt countries where people have a chance of getting on in life. That's fine. Most Western countries need immigration for economic reasons thanks to our low birth-rate, and it's of course our duty to give refuge to people fleeing war or tyranny, but none of this adds up to a completely open door imposed on us as a punishment for sin.
This morning comes the news of thirty-nine migrants found dead in the back of a lorry in Thurrock. That really is a sin. People-trafficking is thoroughly evil, and those who seek to maintain national borders are not responsible for it. The callous criminals who do it are totally responsible. One of the main pieces of learning I took away from our involvement with looking after migrants in Reading, was that these people are totally heartless and deeply manipulative.
The Abbey Habit
We went in pilgrimage to the Abbey on Saturday, and changed our route to avoid the "People's Vote" march, but fortunately we started a lot earlier than them. There were already people around in silly blue berets, and I noticed that there were enterprising sellers of merchandise, rather like a pop festival, but during the morning they were easy to avoid. Most of the time that we were in the Abbey we weren't conscious of them, even as they filled Parliament Square next door, but when we went out into the College Garden at lunchtime we were conscious of a sort of hum beyond the garden wall. It was rather surreal to think that we were immediately behind the BBC's tent. When we were sitting waiting for Evensong to begin there came a loud cheer which was clearly audible, which was for the passage of the Letwin amendment. After that the remainers went home happy.
Our parish party was smaller than last year, which was a shame since the weather was so good, but I had enthused some Deanery colleagues, so Paddington Deanery was well-represented. It is great to see the Abbey given over to worship and prayer, and I think everyone enjoyed themselves. Picnics in the Cloister were very jolly (something that of course is normally verboten). The Abbey makes much of its position offering faith at the heart of the nation, but it genuinely felt like that, with this strange juxtaposition. The Archbishop of Canterbury preached, not very well. It was mostly about leadership, and he didn't really seem to have embraced the occasion, which was a shame. I guess he was thinking about what was going on across the road, but didn't dare say anything clear. His chaplain had not embraced the occasion to the extent of sitting there in scarf and hood when everyone else was wearing a stole. Oddly ungracious. I hope she enjoyed the copious quantities of incense!
There were two Home Office immigration enforcement vans parked in Goldney Road yesterday. I saw no activity, but no doubt the Border Force officers were in a flat somewhere. A few weeks ago I saw a similar van cruising along the Harrow Road. I wonder whether they are regular visitors to Belgravia as well?
Meanwhile, the Anglican Communion Office at the United Nations (who knew there was such a thing?) urges us to pray for forced migration because of climate change. This causes me some discomfort, as it is frankly tendentious. Most of the world's migrants are looking for a better life, or fleeing war or civil strife. Anyone migrating because of climate change at the moment (and I'm not sure there is anyone) is choosing to do so, not being forced. If Bangladesh or the Seychelles are flooded, then people will certainly be forced to migrate, but unless I've missed it, I don't think this has happened yet. It is the case that people are being forced to leave their homes on the Suffolk coast as they fall into the sea (as they have been doing for hundreds of years) but that's not what we're being asked to pray about. Our friends at the Anglican Communion Office are attempting to establish the notion that climate change is responsible for migration, and that therefore we in the West are guilty, and so can't complain. We are expected to feel guilty for the effects of colonialism, which have been alleged to be responsible for migration in the past, and now for climate change as well, and so the idea is being presented that we should just accept migration as the consequences of our own sinfulness. Well, I'm all in favour of a generous immigration regime, but I'm afraid I don't buy the guilt. In fact, people choose to migrate to the West because these are prosperous, peaceful and relatively uncorrupt countries where people have a chance of getting on in life. That's fine. Most Western countries need immigration for economic reasons thanks to our low birth-rate, and it's of course our duty to give refuge to people fleeing war or tyranny, but none of this adds up to a completely open door imposed on us as a punishment for sin.
This morning comes the news of thirty-nine migrants found dead in the back of a lorry in Thurrock. That really is a sin. People-trafficking is thoroughly evil, and those who seek to maintain national borders are not responsible for it. The callous criminals who do it are totally responsible. One of the main pieces of learning I took away from our involvement with looking after migrants in Reading, was that these people are totally heartless and deeply manipulative.
The Abbey Habit
We went in pilgrimage to the Abbey on Saturday, and changed our route to avoid the "People's Vote" march, but fortunately we started a lot earlier than them. There were already people around in silly blue berets, and I noticed that there were enterprising sellers of merchandise, rather like a pop festival, but during the morning they were easy to avoid. Most of the time that we were in the Abbey we weren't conscious of them, even as they filled Parliament Square next door, but when we went out into the College Garden at lunchtime we were conscious of a sort of hum beyond the garden wall. It was rather surreal to think that we were immediately behind the BBC's tent. When we were sitting waiting for Evensong to begin there came a loud cheer which was clearly audible, which was for the passage of the Letwin amendment. After that the remainers went home happy.
Our parish party was smaller than last year, which was a shame since the weather was so good, but I had enthused some Deanery colleagues, so Paddington Deanery was well-represented. It is great to see the Abbey given over to worship and prayer, and I think everyone enjoyed themselves. Picnics in the Cloister were very jolly (something that of course is normally verboten). The Abbey makes much of its position offering faith at the heart of the nation, but it genuinely felt like that, with this strange juxtaposition. The Archbishop of Canterbury preached, not very well. It was mostly about leadership, and he didn't really seem to have embraced the occasion, which was a shame. I guess he was thinking about what was going on across the road, but didn't dare say anything clear. His chaplain had not embraced the occasion to the extent of sitting there in scarf and hood when everyone else was wearing a stole. Oddly ungracious. I hope she enjoyed the copious quantities of incense!
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