was a splendid book in the Teddy Horsley series, which I used to read to the GoodinParts offspring in a desperate attempt to keep them quiet and happy in the pew during their early years of church life.
Reading is so much better than living it, but actually that picture just about sums up the Curate this evening.
Nothing really to moan about, just alot of small frustrations...
Spent this morning (day off) driving to Cardiff to collect the final installment of Hattie Gandhi's belongings - which are now deposited all over the house, whether there's room or not...and I've the clergy from our wannabe "cluster" coming to lunch on Friday for the first time and no time to clear the decks properly.
Afternoon working (nothing to grump about there, as it involved a year 3 class visiting St M's, and I absolutely love using the church as a visual aid to talk about God with young children...so I cheered up briefly)...thwarted by repeated internet collapses.
Discovered that training day whose date I had actually checked (it appeared as the non existent Wednesday 21st on the advance publicity, so for once I emailed to be certain which it was) is actually not on Thursday next week, as I'd been told, but on Wednesay...when I have such fun committments as a session with the clergy tax bods and a speaking committment - which wouldn't be the end of the world, except this training is about moving on to a "First Responsibility Post" - so is distinctly relevant.
Went to the local supermarket for essentials - (chicken pieces) and comfort food (Ben & Jerrys) and came back with 2 bottles of milk...but nothing from my list.
And any minute now it will be time to head off for diocesan synod. I expect I've lost my papers...it's that sort of day.
All the more reason, then, to be glad that the school run from Burford takes me past this field.


I don't think I can really justify a long term grump in the face of such beauty - might even have to say sorry to those I've kicked along the way.