Look at me ...

If the election results had been otherwise, I might have called this entry "all we like sheep ..." (have gone astray-ay-ay-ay ...)* , and if I'd not seen this particular lamb I was going to post a picture of this morning's congregation weaving their way through the car park, chatting in corners, masked and unmasked after the service. We had more or less a (restricted) capacity crowd today, with the return of more regulars from purdah or The East, and there was a great deal of jollity. I was preaching, on the gospel injunction "Love one another", and had to work hard at finding my own slant on such a well-known instruction.  I enjoyed it, I have to admit - both the prep and the delivering of same. 

Other than that it was normal pandemic Sunday - papers over lunch, then a walk. My #2 son has just shared a link to a piece in The Guardian that made me giggle with its relevance as a Canadian wonders at the British obsession with walking purposelessly in muddy fields. The highlight of the walk was these sheep, and in particular the lamb with the sense of the dramatic - I loved the way he leapt onto that tree stump and stood starting at us. They've grown a lot in the week or so since I last looked at them.

Finally I have to report that most of the scab has come off my battered nose. It didn't do it in time to make me more presentable for church, but when I sat down later I realised that the age-old temptations of a good scab were stronger than the decorum learned over the years since I had scabby knees to experiment on. I still have a bright purple line below my bottom lip, but things are looking up ...

Last home Pilates class tomorrow, then it's back to the studio. And I have to put a loaf in the machine before breakfast ...

*Accompanied by Handel's music. The Messiah.