Caption: St Ives on our walk from Carbis Bay to library, lunch and lollygagging about on
Friday, before half-filling a grocery cart . On checking out we met our neighbours, Steve and Marilyn, who hauled the supplies while we walked the mile home. Angels.
Carbis Bay, Sunday 8 February–Here. Happy. Hurrah!
Wednesday we sat up all night on British Airways thinking about the sun. Then it dawned on us. (quote adapted from New Contact, newsletter of St Anta and St Uny Churches (February). We kept sitting up until bedtime about 34 hours after leaving home. So good to be settled in at our cozy flat in Carbis Bay. We’ve had glorious sunshine and more of the same is forecast for the week.
The Brits are experts on weather, writes David Winter in New Contact. “Climate Change is nothing new to us, we experience it three times a day. However, we are also aware that things are changing in a more fundamental way.” More on that topic in future Cogitations.
I’m sitting at the table in our lounge, night has fallen. The many buds of a Kalanchoe potted plant wait to join the dozen already blooming. On the window sill daffodil buds are opening. Supermarkets are being advised to move daffodil bunches away from the produce section because some people have mistaken them for spring onions and consequently have suffered ill effects from eating these poisonous bulbs and stems. We’re feasting on the beauty.
Another newspaper tidbit: Chicago Tribune (4 Feb.): On the difference between Créole and Cajun cuisines, the writer says Créole food is “more metro and urban, with multiple courses and a larger focus on the tomato,” whereas the Cajun cook, in relation to gumbo, for instance, “would rather die or say a hundred Hail Mary’s before putting in a tomato.” So, Cajun food centered 70 miles east of New Orleans is rural “while Créole food is urban, a case of country versus city, rustic versus sophisticated.” Chefs of both stripes are doing good things in taking the two to new tastes while maintaining their respective distinctives.
Bring on the Cajun gumbo. Bring on the Creole crawfish etouffee with white rice. Bring it all on! Sometime. We had toasted tea cakes (with marmalade for me) for supper, the toaster setting off the smoke alarm. Lunch was a delightful light bite of crab fritter with salad for Marty and a small dish of Mussels for me.
I’d love to quote some things about rugby, but I need to watch a few games and also find an interpreter. This oh so popular sport has teams headed to a Six Nation’s tournament in September. To an old adage from the sports news on the Stratford (Ontario) radio station of my youth, “If you can’t play a sport, then be one,” I add, “If you don’t understand a sport, then be wiser than rushing out to play one.” We’re doing well in getting our hill-climbing legs in shape.
Sue Doggett today led the monthly more informal Seaside Praise service on prayer. Jesus in the uncertainty of his itinerant ministry spent deep time in prayer. We are often tempted to live life by our own maps, whereas God invites us to live by God’s own map, marked by prayer that is personal, a priority and powerful as Jesus modeled.
To end, here’s a prayer from Blessed Be Our Table, a prayer for Family, Friends and Fellowship, named “An African Saying”: “Eat and drink together / talk and laugh together / enjoy life together / but never call it friendship / until you have wept together.” Best! -John