Reasons to be hopeful

I think summer may have left us. That sunny evening was tantalising, but when I went out early to get my supermarket shop, I had on a thin padded gilet for the first time in months. Incidentally, Morrison's was strangely well-stocked this morning, all but for the oat milk I prefer; after the empty shelves of last week this came as a welcome surprise. There also seemed to be fewer customers, so that I came home much less stressed. The diversions were interesting, though - these floods on the day of the hosepipe photos  seem to have  galvanised someone into doing major works on the drains in the town centre.

Because I had a meeting in the afternoon - a real meeting, not a virtual one - I dragged Himself out for a walk before the rain started again. We were blown to bits down at Toward by a wild wind from the south, so that it was quite mild but very trying - dust and bits of plants flying around. I've been coughing ever since, and my eyes were streaming.

The meeting is the subject of my photo and the reason for my title. Ten of us from the church met to have what might be thought of as a bit of in-service instruction/discussion in reading aloud in church and doing the Intercessions. The discussion became animated and sometimes hilarious with memories of past incidents, but the chief impression was one of enormous hopefulness. Ours is a small church, regarded by many locals as The English Church, with a congregation drawn from as far away as Strachur on Loch Fyne - what makes it tick in these post-pandemic times, when so many churches are still not reopening? Look at the group in the photo. One of us has already had to leave, but there were 10 of us here who are all actively involved in the Sunday worship to the extent of being willing (and able) to discuss what worked and what didn't, to take instruction, to contribute mental energy and physical presence. Some of us (like me) have been there for decades; two have only recently moved to the area. These are by no means the only people who are thus committed, but it's a good representative sample. I think it's great.

And now I realise that I haven't really stopped until I sat down after dinner, at about 8.40pm. 12 hours on the go. The chaps will be back early in the morning to remove the scaffolding. Onward ...