A day of two halves

I've been living dangerously. For the second day running I visited a health professional after months of keeping away from enclosed spaces with potentially ill people in them. As I sat in the waiting room of our GP surgery, on one of the three seats with a large pink cross on the floor in front of them, a young woman came in and sat on one of the other two. She kept breathing - not ordinary breathing, but great puffs and sighs and snottery sounds that made me want to hold my breath: was she seriously ill? Emotionally distraught? I didn't exactly heave a sigh of relief when she vanished precipitately into the depths of the surgery with no discernible summons, but that was because I was trying not to breathe at all ...

I was there to discuss the fact that I'd not had a bloods test in more years than I can recall, though apparently old people, especially those on regular meds, should have one every year. I've to arrange a fasting one, but the timing's complicated by an experiment with statins ... Anyway, my blood pressure was its usual alarming high in such a setting, helped, I'm sure, by the Breathing One and the mask-wearing. I'll be back ...

Sanity and serenity were restored by our weekly visit to church to rehearse and make a recording. The recording went fine, and I was singing some lovely plainsong that I felt I could have gone on with all day. Later, we had online Compline, possibly my favourite service even when in my study with the computer. 

Blipping the view from beside the church, looking towards the rectory. You can get some idea of the extensive nature of our grounds, and the glory of the mature trees that surround them. The extra was taken as we walked up the road; you can see the funny wee church tower sticking out of the trees to the left and get some idea of how much we are tucked away at the back of the town. There's an ancient, pre-Christian well on the hillside, dedicated in more recent times to St Bride. The church stands on Kilbride Road, and on high days and holy days we sing the Kilbride Mass, a lovely setting of the liturgy by Mr PB for congregational use.

I've just enjoyed some mad texting on WhatsApp with my older granddaughter. She should be asleep, but her school's still on mid-term. In normal circumstances she might well be staying here with us. Next year ...