WORK IN PROGRESS

Men At Work

First, a mountain of chipboard was delivered. Some of this was then put down on the nave floor, which, as things were progressively removed, gradually got covered. I came in and saw a small golden arch leaning against a pillar, and wondered excitedly what it could be; it was only when I saw it from another angle that I realised that it was the frame of a grand piano, now completely destroyed. The labourers seem to be quite efficient at smashing things up. Then the carpenters moved in and started constructing boxes, so the marble balustrade (Martin Travers, 1923) got boxed in, along with the chancel steps. At this point, all the furniture marked for storage had been moved downstairs into the Comper Chapel, awaiting the arrival of the container in which it is to be stored.

Then, on Tuesday, the containers arrived. I don't think I had been conscious of how many there were to be, or how much space they would really occupy. I had looked at the plans of the site compound, but somehow never really put it together in my head. So, they came at a nice quiet time of day, and just two parking suspensions did the job to enable the lorries to get access. That all happened smoothly, and quietly. We are undeniably occupying quite a big portion of the park, though a portion that no-one actually uses for anything. We have had to be terribly careful about the trees, despite the fact that the trees are a public nuisance, and ought to be cut down and replaced. They are black poplars, which are notorious for dropping boughs without warning, which in my view makes them unsuitable to line a path through a park. As a cyclist on that cycle path you really feel threatened whenever the wind blows, but the alarming thing is the way that boughs drop off without warning when it isn't windy. I have a particular dislike of the one tree which is out of alignment with the others (which are along the path) because it deposits lots of leaves in our gutters, and until it was pruned recently had a branch which threatened our north wall. I can't prove that it was this tree's roots that were found in our old drains, blocking them, but I am morally certain of it.

The last couple of days have become noisy, though. Pneumatic drills and Kango hammers have appeared now,  as the steps down into the school yard have been deconstructed, and the hideous wall closing in the north porch has been demolished. This is undeniably noisy, and it is good to get it done during the holiday. Last week the surface of the school yard was taken up, and a climbing frame taken down, to be relocated, but those weren't particularly noisy


Welcome Visitors

Oddly, this week we have had a couple of last-minute visitors wanting to see the church. One was a charming man in publishing, who lives locally, and I don't entirely understand how he had missed all the public open days and events which we've put on, let alone the simple method of asking me for a visit. Anyway, he came via PDT, and Toby and I had a pleasant time showing him round despite the onward march of the chipboard. He very kindly gave us macaroons as a thank you. Then, out of the blue, Fr Graeme Rowlands, from St Silas, Kentish Town, called to ask whether he could bring a server and show him the church. They had a whole day of visiting great Anglo-Catholic churches, of which we were the last (I scheduled them for after the builders would have gone home). It was good to see the lad's enthusiasm. Fr Rowlands told me that he had first sought the church out after seeing photos of it in a book called "This Our Sacrifice", illustrating how Low Mass was celebrated using the old ritual. The book title rang bells for me, and I went home and duly found it in my study. Clearly I had not looked at it in more than ten years, as I had no idea the pictures were of us. The photos illustrate the sanctuary in 1949, which is fascinating to see (contemporary with "The Blue Lamp" being filmed outside). We still use the chasuble that is being used, and I have just found the altar cards (though they are much decayed). It was pleasing to see the tabernacle unveiled, so my leaving the veils off has good precedent.


Visitors

Some of my regular callers have reappeared rather surprisingly.The Man With A Stab Wound has tracked me down, whereas he only used to come to the Office. This is not helpful. Vouchers and Foodbank referrals are kept at the Office, not at home. He is unable to accept the answer "No". The Pakistani Christian has also reappeared, making a speciality of Sunday evening, when I expect a ring on the doorbell to be the tenant church. It seems he is being housed, which is very good news. He still wants me to pay for an Oyster card. I don't query the logic of asking me when he is supposed to be in Hounslow. The Small Irishman has also reappeared, and says he is being housed in Enfield; it is reassuring to see him, as he had disappeared for a couple of years, and I thought he might be dead. He insists that I take his cashcard to reimburse what I lend him. When I try to do so the PIN doesn't work. And then there is The Small Angry Woman With Dog, who has kept clear of us for a couple of years, since we had to get the police to remove her from a PCC meeting. Suddenly she has reappeared, spectacularly at the end of the Mass on St Mary Magdalene's Day, complete with what appears to be a Rhodesian Ridgeback puppy, which she cannot control. Her problems have not changed. Sometimes one has to accept that there are situations which one cannot solve. Offering a bit of care is about the best we can do, and pray.