Chris Hansen’s blog

It started out like all my workdays…I bought my newspaper and walked to Waterloo to take the Jubilee Line. Nothing unusual. However, when I got in the queue for the front door, I noticed a short pudgy guy next to me. Obviously, he was someone who didn’t realise the unspoken rule that, at these Jubilee Line stations (the ones with doors) you get into a queue, one at each side of the door, to wait patiently for the train.

The train arrived, and we politely let the passengers off, as we are constantly being reminded to do. Then we began to file onto the train. There was some kind of holdup in front of us, and the woman in front of me stopped. I stopped too, and suddenly I was violently shoved from behind, and the short pudgy man, who was doing the shoving, said, rather loudly: “Come on, don’t stop, get on the train!” I gave him a look, put my hand out, and shoved him right back on the platform. I was hoping that the train doors would close, but unfortunately, they didn’t. He then got on behind me. The rest of the journey was very tense; he seemed to think that he’d “won”, but shouting loudly at a stranger in the Underground is Just Not Done.

I have since thought about a few ripostes, among which the best (IMHO) is “Well, I see that you’re quite eager to get into work to continue embezzling from your employer while your wife is cheating on you.” Unfortunately, I didn’t think of that one until I had nearly gotten to the building in which I toil for my crust.

…and many happy returns of the day!

Well, it’s been a very tiring week in Lake Woebegone, I’m afraid.

Monday was Deanery Synod. We always have a good turnout, but it seems that it’s getting more and more difficult to do the administrative stuff that you need to do to keep Synod going well. We discussed the regeneration that is happening in our Deanery–great gobs of construction work are happening right under our noses, people are being displaced, and no one knows much if anything about it. We had two of our Deanery clergy as well as a former leader of Southwark Council (who is now a postulant for Holy Orders and is scheduled to be ordained a deacon in June). We all enjoyed it and found out things from a politician’s perspective that we hadn’t known about before.

The difficulty is that our secretary, who does not use computers, decided to retire at this meeting, so we need someone to take the minutes and, we hope, write them up and do the things that secretaries usually do. I took the minutes at this meeting, but one can’t preside and take minutes at the same time without going slightly buggy.

Getting to the venue (St. Paul’s Lorrimore Square) was an interesting walk through areas of the Deanery through which I had never walked.

Tuesday was Lodge of Instruction, and we rehearsed the Third degree we’ll be conferring in February. I am the lynch-pin of this degree, as in the Second degree, as I have to tow the candidate around and generally choreograph most of the ceremony. I was told that I did OK, but I’m still a bit nervous. I must study more! The candidate will only undergo this degree once, and just like a wedding, he deserves the best we can do for him. The Master Mason degree is very impressive when properly done, and can leave memories in the candidate’s mind that will last for a lifetime. I hope that I will be able to contribute to good memories, and not embarrassed ones.

Wednesday was yoga. Kym has told me that I’m doing better; I sometimes wonder (not that I think he’s fibbing, but I feel tired and achy and don’t seem to be able to do most of the exercises very well). I am limited in that I have little or no feeling in the bottom of my feet, so some exercises that require balance flummox me. But I do try.

Thursday wasn’t busy at all, and Friday wasn’t supposed to be. HWMBO gave notice at his job last week, to take another one with a not-for-profit organisation doing consumer research. They tried to dissuade him, but he stuck it out. On Friday he said he would be going out with co-workers and that he’d be home around 7. Seven PM arrived, as did 8. No sign of him. I called him, and he said he’d be home within a half-hour. It was more than an hour when he finally got home. On his instructions I went ahead to the restaurant, but by 9 pm I was absolutely ravenous.

Saturday was yoga again, and nothing else. Sunday we went to the Sex exhibition at the Barbican, which had (to my mind) a lot of the predictable things you might find in such an exhibition. Indian, Chinese, and Japanese erotica, so posed as to hardly be comprehensible. Warhol’s Blowjob and Kiss, both of which I’ve seen before. Roman erotica, some of which I’ve seen and some of which was really interesting. Hardly any Greek stuff though (except for a few jars and pots), and nothing from between around 400 AD and 1500 AD. Other predictable stuff included Mapplethorpe (with a warning outside the room but I’d seen it all before) and Picasso. There was a movie consisting of a woman’s head and neck while she was undergoing (their word) oral sex, but with an operatic accompaniment. There was also a set of slides of various families and groupings with background music of Bjork singing Tavener’s “Prayer of the Heart”. The contrast of the pedestrian slides (some nudity, including several of one couple’s young son) with the ethereal music was really interesting.

But, yet again, the early closing of supermarkets flummoxed us. By the time we got out of the exhibition Waitrose behind Barbican was closed. Drat! We had to go to Sainsbury on Borough High Street, and by the time I got home I was so tired I didn’t really want to eat.

So today I’ve made my hotel reservations: I’ll be staying at the Holiday Inn on West 29th Street between 7th and 8th Avenues–very close to my old haunts. Perhaps I’ll go to Holy Apostles on Sunday to see what’s going on there.

I will be taking my work laptop with me rather than my contractor’s laptop, as I can access my email and LJ on it, while the contractor’s laptop doesn’t allow connection with email or blogging sites. So I will blog, I promise, and I may even take pictures.

You don’t get bottle pictures very often.

I eat salad at home two-three times a week. In our local Tesco, you have very little choice and most of it is not great (although they do sell Paul Newman Italian and Ranch dressing). We went to Waitrose around Christmas, and found a lot of good salad dressings, one of which is Brianna’s Blue Cheese Dressing. I love blue cheese dressing, so I bought a bottle, thus. Note the lovely picture of the red onion on the label.

Now take a closer look at the neck label:

Stands to reason. If I wanted Red Onion Dressing, that’s what I would have bought.

…just bring this page up, and wait.

This gentleman, unfortunately for him, bit the hand that fed him.

An older lady gets pulled over for speeding…
Older Woman: Is there a problem, Officer?
Officer: Ma’am, you were speeding.
Older Woman: Oh, I see.
Officer: Can I see your license please?
Older Woman: I’d give it to you but I don’t have one.
Officer: Don’t have one?
Older Woman: Lost it, 4 years ago for drunk driving.
Officer: I see…Can I see your vehicle registration papers please?
Older Woman: I can’t do that.
Officer: Why not?
Older Woman : I stole this car.
Officer: Stole it?
Older Woman: Yes, and I killed and hacked up the owner.
Officer: You what??
Older Woman: His body parts are in plastic bags in the trunk if you want to see.
The Officer looks at the woman and slowly backs away to his car and calls for back up. Within minutes 5 police cars circle the car. A senior officer slowly approaches the car, clasping his half drawn gun.
Officer 2: Ma’am, could you step out of your vehicle please!
The woman steps out of her vehicle.
Older woman: Is there a problem, Sir?
Officer 2: One of my officers told me that you have stolen this car and murdered the owner.
Older Woman: Murdered the owner??
Officer 2: Yes, could you open the trunk of your car, please.
The woman opens the trunk, revealing nothing but an empty trunk.
Officer 2: Is this your car, Ma’am?
Older Woman: Yes, here are the registration papers.
The officer is quite stunned.
Officer 2: One of my officers claims that you do not have a driver’s license.
The woman digs into her handbag and pulls out a clutch purse and hands it to the officer.
The officer examines the license. He looks quite puzzled.
Officer 2: Thank you, Ma’am. One of my officers told me you didn’t have a license, that you stole this car, and that you murdered and hacked up the owner.
Older Woman: Bet the liar told you I was speeding, too.

…comes, surprisingly, from CNN, where in Korea, people are being “buried alive” in order to live better. For me, it’s food for thought.

I was sitting with some friends and watching the harbor (in some unspecified city) and the sky. A plane flew in and landed on the water. Somehow my friend David got off it and started on his way home. He was on a skateboard, I think. I saw him glide by and started following him on my own half skateboard. We caught up and chatted for a while, then I followed him down a very long hill, got off my half skateboard and looked at it, then we went into a cemetery. There were various things going on there; there was a Jewish funeral and I crossed myself as I passed them (out of respect, not mockery). We went on to various parts of the cemetery, and then ended up going into a basement. David had by now changed himself into another friend (or been replaced by one) and we ended up having to be boosted up into a room that was quite close and warm. It was a wreck, really, with a group of people in it presided over by an elderly guy who insisted we eat. He handed us a tray of what looked like potato skins, and we both looked at each other, not wanting to eat them, but not having much choice. So we kind of tipped them up and ate the potato that was contained in them, sliding it into our mouths like an oyster. At that point that alarm was about to go off and I woke up, disliking the dream intensely and vowing not to go back to sleep until I could ignore this one. Curse you, beta blocker!

and . Many happy returns of the day.

I got a Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head for Christmas one year, and played with them for all of an hour or so before discarding them (and I hope, the potato). However, the same toy, still being sold, fascinates a different sort of creature.

I’m sure that most of you have seen this one, but I need to immortalise it in my blog too, just in case it’s forgotten in the future. Cashing a check/cheque is usually a pretty simple process: the payee goes to a bank, presents the check/cheque with some form of ID, and gets money. Well, this pair of clueless people thought that perhaps being in the same state as the Norwegian Blue oughtn’t debar their friend from getting his Social Security money.

So a man climbs down a cliff, sans safety equipment (which was a ways away in his car) to save the life of a teenage girl who had fallen over and was hanging from her fingertips. The man is a hero, right? The girl nominated him for an award. Does the agency for which the man is a volunteer appreciate his bravery and courage and quick-thinking selfless actions?

The heck it does!

…comes from the Times of London:

A motion calling for the disestablishment of the Church of England has been listed in the House of Commons. It appeared on the House of Commons order paper numbered 666.

I believe that we must now be approaching the end times. I wonder if the Rt Rev’d Colin Buchanan, the retired Bishop of Woolwich and promoter of disestablishment at every opportunity, would accept this one or spurn it because of its number.

I left work at 4:30 pm, intending to go to London Bridge and get some exercise by walking home from there. Got down into Canary Wharf Jubilee Line station, and there was a totally packed train standing there. Uh oh. It closed up and left, and I waited for the next train. Mind you, the display on the outside of the station said that we should be careful of slipping on the floor since it was wet. It didn’t say anything about delays. Well, there was a signal failure at Finchley Road, about 10 stations away, and it basically closed down the entire line. After sitting on the train for a while, I decided to get off and go to the Docklands Light Railway and go to Bank station, then take a Northern Line train down to the Elephant. I actually was sick and tired of hearing the train driver’s silly attempts to be light hearted and humourous about the situation; after all, he is in his cab and inaccessible and safe; the rest of us have to squeeze and squash our way around inside the car and just wanted information, not cheering up–it was too late for that.

Well, I got on the DLR train at Heron Quays, and we went one stop, to Canary Wharf DLR, when the train attendant (they don’t have drivers, only a guard who sometimes looks at tickets and passes) said that because of a dead train ahead we would be going to Stratford instead of Bank. It’s now 5:30 pm and I am pissed off.

I got off at Bow Church and walked about 3 blocks to Bow Road District Line Station and got on a District Line train to Ealing Broadway. We rolled along until just after Mansion House. We stopped. After about 10 minutes the train driver informed us that there was a defective train ahead of us and we would be waiting until the passengers discharged to move. We waited for about 15 minutes, and then crept into Monument station, where hordes of people were waiting for us. They all crammed in, and we crept from station to station, delayed at every stop by people who wanted to get on this already-packed train. I had a seat, but watching people try to treat the train door as a mosh pit really made me nervous and angry.

We finally got to Embankment, where I transferred to the Bakerloo Line which, miraculously, wasn’t delayed at all, and finally got home at 6:30 pm. Two hours from the time I walked out of the client’s door.

Pfui! as Nero Wolfe would say. Not that Nero Wolfe would ever get on an Underground train.

The upshot is that I didn’t feel like cooking, so HWMBO went out and got Chinese food. I snapped at him all night; I couldn’t keep from doing it–being grumpy and nerve-racked is hard to shake off. I am still angry. Years of underinvestment have produced this situation.

PFUI!!!

…is, courtesy of towleroad, the gravestone of the late lamented closeted gay star Merv Griffin.

You can’t say he didn’t have a sense of humour.

…comes from one of my LJ friends,, in the form of a prospectus for a musical.

For those who are not Singaporean, dengue fever is a mosquito-borne tropical disease which is fatal in some instances.

I’m sure than many of you have heard of “The Emperor Norton”, who lost his mind in 19th century San Francisco and began to style himself “Emperor of the United States”. He got free rides on the streetcars, went to all the churches in town, in turn (so as not to play favourites), and was so cheerful that no one really minded.

What I didn’t know is that he was also a Mason. I suppose that when we toast all “poor and distressed Freemasons”, we can think of the Emperor Norton.

Remember, when you click on this link, you were first!

I was actually looking for loopholes (a la W.C. Fields).

88% Dennis Kucinich
86% Mike Gravel
78% Joe Biden
78% Chris Dodd
78% Barack Obama
75% John Edwards
72% Bill Richardson
71% Hillary Clinton
36% Rudy Giuliani
32% Ron Paul
30% John McCain
23% Mitt Romney
22% Mike Huckabee
14% Fred Thompson
12% Tom Tancredo

2008 Presidential Candidate Matching Quiz

Aw, shux, I voted for Hilary.

In this US Presidential election year, voting and voting mechanisms will come under great scrutiny. Electronic voting is all the rage; however, computer professionals (of which I am one) often mistrust the safety, security, and accuracy of the electronic voting process. This article in the New York Times magazine is must-reading for people who are going to be voting this year.

I just posted my primary ballot for California this morning (I voted for Hilary) and it is to be counted by optical scanning. No touch screens for me.

HWMBO wanted to see it, so we had choice: Chelsea at 1 pm or the Barbican at 3. We chose the latter, and planned a trip to Waitrose afterwards to pick up such things as light bulbs. Amazingly, Tesco here seems to feel that light bulbs are dispensable at Christmas so clears them out to put in yet another beer display.

Now, I have to say that I hate the Barbican with a passion. It seems to have been designed by a cock-eyed mad monk who mistook a labyrinth for a maze and transplanted the whole damned thing to the City of London. In addition, the signage is confusing, with arrows implying that if you want to get to the Cinema you need to climb up the wall and across the ceiling. Most of the signs keep the existence of the cinema a deep, dark, secret. We walked in on the second floor, went down to the Ground floor, back up to the second, then down to -2 (yes, they have a -1 and -2 floor). We were carefully sold tickets in the centre by a woman who implied that there would be a full house. There were in the end about 25 people (no more) watching the film. The Pearl and Dean advertisements at the beginning features our friend Singapore Alex as an Eskimo shilling for furniture with penguins in the background (who would ever accuse advertising people of being accurate!).

It’s a typical Ang Lee, with lots of long shots over scenery and trendy interiors and clothes. The story itself, like most of his other movies, is quite sad and the tension between the two major characters takes up most of the energy in the film. Lee’s main difficulty, for me, is that he can’t seem to get to the point. He just dithers and dallies and the film ends up being 2-3/4 hours long. I didn’t go to sleep, but it dragged and dragged. There is one scene with lots of blood, and two or three sex scenes between the two major characters. She has nipples like those on a baby’s bottle.

HWMBO gave it 8.5 out of 10. I could only muster 7 out of 10 and that pretty reluctantly.

Were very gay this evening and had quiche and salad for dinner. I feel like that QueerCard[TM] is about to land in my mailbox any day now.

Note: I believed that I saw chocolate bunnies in Tesco’s last week, thus making Tesco the first store to sell Easter candy around here. I misstated, and hereby apologise. On closer inspection, they turned out to be reindeer. However, the shape is so bunnylike that I bet they’ll use the same molds to make the Easter bunnies, and they’ll appear soon. Very soon. Once Peeps start appearing in the stores here, it will be the End of British Civilisation As We Know It.

Be Afraid!

Be VERY Afraid!

It’s 8 hours into the New Year here in London, and just turned midnight in San Francisco. So to all you West Coasters out there, don’t drink too much.

We spent our usual very quiet New Year. We watched a movie called Ping Pong, which was mildly interesting. Arata, the actor who played Smile, was 28 years old when the movie was filmed, and yet he played a secondary-school student. Such youthful looks.

We had coffee and mince pies during the film, and then waited for midnight, at home. We watched the BBC coverage of the festivities at South Bank; during the fireworks, we could hear the fireworks outside as we were watching them inside. And so to bed. No alcohol was consumed.

Perhaps I’ll make a Manhattan before dinner tonight. Very civilised.

My wish for all my friends and readers is for a happy, blessed, and fruitful new year.

Well, let’s start with Christmas Eve. Not much to say: I went to work, somewhat bleary, and cleaned up some of the email I got during my week in Marblehead. I decided this year that I would not go to Midnight Mass, just set up for it, since I am always overtired on Christmas after going. HWMBO misheard me and got dressed for Midnight Mass, just as I returned from setting up. He was a bit nonplussed, but we appreciated the extra sleep.

We had a guest through Boxing Day, one of HWMBO’s friends from Singapore. He is a Chinese teacher, and brought presents: a set of Beijing Olympic keyrings with the mascots on them, and some eau de cologne. Very nice. On Christmas Day I went to Mass, and was sad to hear that the sermon was to be delivered by the Nigerian archdeacon who is studying here and is a relative of a parishioner. He is not in tune with the congregation, and preaches as if it were a Nigerian bible study. Very long, and dull. But, saved by the archdeacon’s alarm clock: he arose late and arrived just as the Rector was finishing up an impromptu sermon.

Then, home to cook a chicken, some roast vegetables, stuffing, creamed onions, and the like. We ate around 2, and then settled down for the Queen’s Speech (HM the Q looks every minute of her 81+ years now). As there’s no transport on Christmas Day, we went nowhere and did virtually nothing.

Boxing Day was much the same, except that our houseguest came with us to the New World restaurant in Chinatown for dim sum, which we enjoyed, on the whole. The ang moh group at the table next to us was having none of it: you’re supposed to order from menus in restaurants, so they ordered from menus rather than choosing from the carts that roamed the dining room. I went to Blackwell’s after that and bought some books, HWMBO and our guest went to Fopp’s (newly reopened after emerging from bankruptcy) and helped their gross takings quite a bit. We walked down to Whitehall, and I was dead tired, so I went home while they walked around a bit more.

Our houseguest left for the airport that evening, and, for the first time in months, we were alone in the house! What joy! Lodgers are nice, but Not Lodgers can be even better.

I worked Thursday and Friday, and wrote my sermon for Sunday morning, which I attach below. Saturday we did a little shopping and went to Tate Modern for the show All the World’s a Stage. I think it closes on Wednesday; don’t rush to see it; it wasn’t worth what we paid for it (which was nothing). And lunch in the Tate restaurant there is always fraught. They seem to have removed Diet Coke from the menu, drat! I had a (very small) glass of apple juice. HWMBO had fish and chips, and I had the burger with chips. The chips (French fries to USans) were not well-cooked: they were slightly soggy on the outside and somewhat hardish (meaning not well cooked) on the inside. Next time we’re going to the Members Room to see if that’s any better. We stopped off at the Discount Shop (where they sell off stuff they couldn’t flog during the year), and I picked up some Gilbert and George cufflinks, and a couple of fridge magnets, one of which was an entire G&G painting cut into small squares. Much Fun will be had.

On the way home we stopped at Sainsbury to pick up dessert (carrot cake) for this evening, and the sky over the Borough was impressive:

This morning I preached: at this particular C of E parish they keep RC festivals, so it was the Feast of the Holy Family. Not much to say about the Holy Family as we don’t know much about their family life. However, much to say about families in general. Tonight we will go to our friend Alex (aka Inuit Boy; for UK readers he is the actor who portrays the Inuit with penguins [who have obviously seriously lost their way] in the DFS commercial) for dinner and bring the carrot cake as dessert.

December 30, 2007 Feast of the Holy Family
Sermon delivered at St. John the Evangelist, 10 am.
Readings: Sirach 3:2-6,12-14; Ps 128 1-5; Colossians 3:12-21; Matthew 2:13-15, 19-23

In the name of God, the one, the Undivided Trinity. AMEN.

I am a very amateur genealogist. The Internet has been a real boon to those of us who want to research our family trees. I have been able to order my grandfather

…and many happy returns of the day

…remember this video (thanks to Michael W. for the reference).

…according to the BBC and CNN. This is a horrid end to a very turbulent political life, and carries on from the execution of her father, also once Prime Minister of Pakistan. Very sad day.

…speaks for itself (just click on it, reader!)

As predicted, our former Prime Minister, who had been appointing bishops and deans in the Church of England, has become a mackerel-snapper. No better case for disestablishment has ever been presented (except, perhaps, Gordon Brown and Margaret Thatcher, Presbyterian and Methodist). The man who gave us the gutless wimp sitting in Thomas a Becket’s seat has flown the coop, leaving us to deal with the messes he has created.

Well, I’m back in London now, but not without incident. Let me backtrack.

Monday we went shopping yet again. Got the usual (razor blades, Irish Spring soap) and unusual (Puma trainers for

Saturday dawned bright, but cold. A horrible storm was on its way, so we must go shopping first!

My soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law arrived at 10, so I “hid” downstairs with my uncle until my sister arrived to ferry me around; she also brought a warm coat to make up for the fact that I’m so lame I didn’t bring one. We went to Swampscott to have lunch and look for memory for my uncle’s computer. No memory there, so we went on to Danvers to a Best Buy; no suitable memory there. However, I picked up a set of Harmon-Kardon speakers with subwoofer for him, as the Bose speakers he was using were a bit anemic-sounding. Ruth took me up to see the horses while she fed and mucked them, then back home to install the speakers.

Once I figured out how to increase/decrease volume, those speakers rawked! My uncle is 78 at the moment, and the only way he keeps his mind active is to transcribe music from scores into the music program in his computer. The sound was a bit funky, and he had been futzing with the controls to try to make it better. Once we got this system installed, everything just perked up: it was clear, bright, and there was some bass for the first time.

When I saw how his eyes lit up as the sound system started working as it should have, I realised why parents are so happy and pleased when they give a gift to their children that the kids really like. It’s not a feeling that childless people like myself get very often, so it was worth the wait.

Then we went out to the local Chinese restaurant, Fantasy Island, in Salem. I may have written about it before, but I have to say that it’s really not the greatest Chinese restaurant I’ve ever patronised. First, they brought a basket of four large rolls and butter. Rolls and butter? In a Chinese restaurant? Aiyoh! Then my brother and sister ordered a Pu-Pu Platter, which is a large plate with a little Sterno burner in the middle, surrounded by deep fried meat and prawns. Instant coronary, I would think. My uncle had the egg rolls from it, and used that very hot mustard as a dip. Augh! Everything here is so huge: the portions, the pieces of meat; it was incredible. I had chicken wonton soup, which was OK, nothing too special, and Sesame beef, which, again, was OK but was three times the size of a portion at our local Chinese in London, the Well. I ate about 2/3rds of it, and my sister, brother, and uncle managed to get through about 1/2 of the Pu-Pu platter.

I suppose that for the sake of the sensibilities of my Chinese friends, I should put that last paragraph behind a cut. Well, my children, someday you will learn that Chinese food is not the same the world over, and some places are positively dreadful. You may actually be dragged to these places by your ang moh friends. So be prepared, and be very scared.

Today I haven’t left the house, as 6 more inches of snow fell this morning. There is now about 16 inches on the ground (around 40 cm) and while it’s warmish now (about 4C) it’ll get colder than freezing overnight and the whole town will be an ice rink tomorrow. Didn’t go to church, sadly; most of them were closed, I think.

Tomorrow, more shopping, and then dinner in Boston with and and some friends from Luti. Tuesday is our Lodge meeting (where the dinner is…wait for it…Chinese buffet. Argh!) and Wednesday we’re going to Outback. Thursday, weather permitting, I’m back home. The time really flies.

…and boy, am I annoyed. The plane trip itself wasn’t too bad. The security line at Heathrow ran as smoothly as those things do, and I got into the loung area in plenty of time to have a coffee and buy a few things. The plane took off almost on time. The food on the flight was lousy, of course, and American Airlines does’t have on-seat movies; you still have to watch a screen suspended from the ceiling.

So we landed about 15 minutes late in Boston. It was snowing, and was just stopping. There were 10 inches on the ground. The pilot informed us that there were no arrival gates open as all the planes were being de-iced and we thus had noplace to go to. We waited for 1-1/2 hours on the taxiway before a gate became free. Then, the fun began.

Normally the US citizens line at Logan is pretty quick. Last night there were a lot of returning Americans, and only three agents on duty. I waited in a queue for an hour before I got through to the baggage area, where they were just starting to disgorge the baggage onto the belt. It was now close to 11:30 pm and I was sure my brother had given up, as I couldn’t get hold of him. Luckily, he’d parked his truck and come into the terminal building (the original plan was that I should call him when I got out of the baggage area and he’d swoop by.

Well, I was wearing Crocs (easy on-off when you have to have your shoes x-rayed) and I had to struggle through 10″ of snow. Ouch! We got home around quarter to twelve, and I collapsed into bed.

So, I’m here. Will be contacting the locals as soon as I can to set up meetings and such, but the fact that another blizzard is scheduled for Sunday doesn’t make me hopeful. I may be snowed in during much of my time here.

I presume I’ll be arriving on a cold night in Massachusetts. There is frost on the grass in the back garden and frost on the roof of the church. The thermometer hasn’t risen above 0 C today (it was close to -1 when I got up this morning) and the house was 17 C at 5:30am. I’m sure none of these temperatures are astoundingly cold to you Americans who have been going through rough weather lately, but they’re pretty cold for us Brits, especially in London where it rarely goes anywhere near zero C.

I have to shower and then pack. I’m leaving the house around 1:30 pm for a 5:55 pm flight. I hope that’s enough. I will be writing to you from Massachusetts next, I hope.

…I forgot to mention that any other denizens of the Bay State or environs who want to toddle up to Boston to have dinner with me and possibly others should email me or reply to this entry. I’d love to meet other ljers in that area.

Future travel plans are:

• New York City, either third or last week of January;
• Pune, India, some time in February, probably early.

Hope to see some of you either next week or in January. I’m not aware of any lj friends of mine in India, but if you’re there, do give us a shout.

…and many happy returns of the day. Although your b’day isn’t in lj, your post tipped me off. What a lovely flat for a lovely guy.

Hope to see you in London soon.

(Friends only as it’s not final yet)

You may recall a few posts about the Companions in Mission program in which I have been participating for nearly the past year. We haven’t been particularly happy with the results, which have been mixed for several reasons.

• The Associate Vicar in charge of the parish became pregnant unexpectedly, and took her maternity leave in September, leaving us with some pastoral responsibility for taking services;
• The initiatives we have begun weren’t supported very well by the laity;
• All of us on the team range from Liberal Catholic to Anglo-Catholic, whereas St. Anne’s is mostly Evangelical (although not always so).

The program was to go through March of next year. However, today I got an email from the Canon Missioner (who is in charge of the program) with a document (for my comments) stating that for various reasons, the program had not been a success and we would end the program at the end of January. He asked my opinion. I emailed back that I thought that, while I agreed with every point, I felt that extending through February and ending at the beginning of March might be better.

• It would be unfair to the laity to end the program so abruptly without explaining exactly why we were ending it
• There was only one extra month that we would have to attend on Sunday, and then we would end the program at the beginning of March, as it was originally intended.

Who is going to tell these good people that they have not lived up to OUR expectations? I would say that we need to stick it out until March, and then have a full and frank discussion in which we talk about the lessons we’ve learned and ask what they’ve learned from our efforts. I think that this experiment has not exactly failed, but has taught us lots of things about our own capabilities in ministry.

Next time, we should:

• Make sure that the ministers share (broadly) the churchmanship on the parish. Being at the top of the candle when most of the parishioners are in the boss under it does not help. Not only do we speak different liturgical languages, but the natural tendency is to try to haul them up the candle, rather than help them do well at the level they are already inhabiting.
• Have SMART objectives set forth at the beginning, and stick to them.
• Make sure that the parish itself is ready to work with the team. The parishioners at St. Anne’s have become alive to me (at least) over the past year in a myriad of ways, and are trying to feel their way toward a greater and more loving relationship with God. However, they need to help us help them; we can’t just put them all on the sleigh and haul them where they want to go. Perhaps a set of agreed principles, signed by the PCC and the CIMs at the beginning of the relationship, would be helpful.

Prayers for St. Anne’s Bermondsey and for the CIMs would be welcome from them as prays among my friends.

Today I was going to go to a raising in Twickenham at 4 PM. Unfortunately, around 1 or 2 pm, I started to feel really flu-ey. (I’ve had my flu jab). I sat in the living room with a blanket over me and shivered for about an hour. My stomach is pretty queasy, so I have just been drinking orange juice and water. HWMNBO got me some flu tablets and some tablets that reduce stomach gas.

I am hoping that a good night’s sleep will cure this; if not, I shall have to go to Massachusetts feeling pretty bad. I don’t want that. So good thoughts and prayers (from them as pray) would be most welcome.

I have neglected to mention much lately; work and evening commitments meant that I have been quite the Red Queen lately. However, I ought to mention that I’m off to Marblehead on Thursday 13th December, staying for a week, returning to London on Thursday 20th December.

and , perhaps we can have dinner one evening that week. The only commitment I have at the moment is Philanthropic Lodge’s meeting on Tuesday.

…and many happy returns of the day. I’m certain I’m the first person wishing you a happy birthday this year from this time zone.

and many happy returns of the day.

I am really sorry about the shootings in Omaha. However, that wasn’t the only story in the US that had to do with a gun. This gentleman took exception to being teased, and took it out on the teasers.

Not being a big drinker, I don’t go to pubs much at all (maybe 2-3 times a year). However, this article tells of the decline and closing of gay bars and presents a good analysis of why they are closing, as well as a historical perspective on how they began. A must-read, even for someone like me who doesn’t visit them often.

I understand that men are much more likely to be hit by lightning than women. Here’s a guy who enjoys it so much he makes it himself (video).

Update to my last post: I realised that the only pictures I was trying to open in a new tab were from Blogger. So I went there, and looked at “known issues”. It’s Blogger that’s doing it, not my computer.
ARGGGGGGHHHHH!

I was using Flock and Firefox tonight as browsers (both with the Mozilla engine), and all of a sudden, if I right-clicked on a photo to open it in a new tab, I got the “Open this file with…” dialog and it wanted me to open it in L-View (the image editor I use most often). WTF??? WTEFFINGF?? Why are both of them doing that?

I really need to lock my computer when not using it, as HWMBO and houseguests often use it and abuse it.

Anyone got any ideas about how I can force Firefox and Flock to just open the image in a new tab, like it used to? Please? What happened??

…and many happy returns of the day

(HBTY) * 2, HBD, HBTY!

And many happy returns of the day! I hope your party is fabulous! We all expect pictures.

We haven’t heard much from Senator Tapper McW for a while now…however, that will change when you go here.

…comes an item that would not only fit into the OLPFRSC, but would also give him a daily focus of worship during breakfast.