Right now, there is so much that needs to be done that I can’t even think about it. I’m trying to concentrate on what is possible here and now, and to hope that I am not suddenly going to find that something I had tagged with “I’ll get around to this when I’ve got time” was actually required to be done by 10 o’clock this morning. I’ve already had a phone call from my mother to say that her lawyer is chasing me for a signature, and, yes, I did receive a bulky envelope, but thought that it was for information, not for action.
We – myself and the children – went swimming this afternoon – worthwhile, but time consuming …
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I’m not even going to try to answer fineline’s question as it stands. But it’s a question I often think about from the point of view of the blog writer. There is often some catharsis to be gained from baring one’s soul, and there is a semi-anonymity about blogging which makes it tempting to say more than one may, in retrospect, have wished to say.
I guess that, as in everything, one is striving for balance – to say enough to be real, without boring or offending the reader. A bit like the theatre – a place to express sadness and laughter. And I’m trying to say that I wish that I could be more entertaining, generally …
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I’ve spent several hours to-day, putting together a document that’s going to be called the minutes of a meeting. I would say, call them hours, or even days (this job has been hanging over me for days – hopefully to-morrow I can say that they’re done).
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The computer has been moved, because we’re getting new windows and doors, but making it much more difficult for me to assert ownership. Possibly a good thing …
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This is Waverley Station, Edinburgh, Scotland.
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We were all going to go to church to-day – as a family. But son wasn’t happy with the trousers he was wearing, and although we found a pair that he considered just acceptable, he had by then decided that he wasn’t going to church. But the Sunday School was hosting a picnic after the service, and our bag of food was still sitting on our driveway, so we had to take the food down, so that Lesley and Hannah would have something to eat. On our way, we noticed that the vandals had had another go at our garden fence, so I decided that the simplest explanation to offer as to why we weren’t staying for the service was that I should go to B&Q for some stronger nails. Which, in fact, was the most sensible course of action.
So I spent about 20 seconds in the church, handing over the food. And then we drove to B&Q – which was pretty busy.
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All the unpleasantness of Good Friday is over; the excitement of Easter Sunday (which, I’m afraid, never seems to live up to my expectations) is yet to come. We can enjoy a real Sabbath. Does that mean that I’m glad that Jesus has been has been killed? Of course not! but I am glad that the suffering of the Cross is past.
Our son was born on Easter Saturday. I was jokingly suggesting this morning that he should have two birthdays, like the Queen.
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I took this photo to-day for the 365 Days project on flickr.
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There was a bottle of white wine in the fridge, and now there isn’t …
It feels like a Friday, but, of course, it isn’t – it’s better …
But then we’re having a holiday because Jesus submitted to a horrible death, for us …
And the Power Rangers have saved the earth …
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Is horrid Henry meant to be a role model? It just seems to me somewhat inconsistent that the same organisation which inflicts the ‘we know how you should manage your children’ type of programmes on us can also broadcast a programme which seems to celebrate bad behaviour.
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