What will they think of next?

I'd never seen this and had to ask how it worked.

Gari

 I enjoyed seeing this on the shelf at Sainsbury's Golders Green the other day. How wholesome.

Ghosts Everywhere

Charming Fishy Ghost on the bottom of my Rolo Dessert lid

Screaming Ghost on the surface of my Caffe Nero coffee

Technically. I don't believe in ghosts but I seem to see them everywhere.

Vegan Halal Nail Polish

 

I was surprised to see this in my local pharmacy but it is a thing as you can see from the ad in the corner. It's a modern world.

Multicultural London

Multiculturalism has a downside perhaps but mostly it is a joy to be in the midst of it. Two cases yesterday. I was in Golders Green and I spoke with a Trinidadian lady who had come to Golders Green becasue she knew it had Jewish shops and she was after a Jewish prayer shawl. I warned her that it would not make her pray any better but pointed her in the direction where the Jewish shops are mainly situated. As I spoke with her one of my members passed. She is a Londoner but her father is Japanese and so she is very aware of those cultural nuances. Then on my way back I passed two African women talking in a language that sounded suspiciously like Hebrew. One of them confirmed to me that it was. I mentioned the falashas but she did not seem familiar with that word. I don't recall ever meeting a Hebrew speaking African.

Tracting

Christians today disagree on the value of trying to give out tracts in the High Street. I can see both advantages and disadvantages. We continue to try and go out once a month, however, and I find it stimulating. Last time we went most did not take tracts but some did. One lady wasn't going to but then did.

Among the refusers were a lady who claimed to be an atheist. Apparently there is a lack of evidence so I suggested she take a look around. She was unconvinced so I pointed out that God had sent me to her to tell her that there is a God/ She was unimpressed. It is hard to see what more could be done.

Another refuser said he did not believe in Christianity. I try not to get wound up but I did tell him he was a silly man as the whole reason I was there on the streets was to reach people who don't believe.

I also saw three Hindu priests dressed in saffron accompanied by a minder. They were heading for the opticians. They politely refused my Christian tract.

At one point I saw someone I knew. I thought it was someone else, a woman who grew up coming to the church, at first but then I realised who it was. I don't think what I said was out of place.

Some of the time there was a lull and at one point the wind blew a tin can about so that it danced in quite a delightful way for about 30 or 40 seconds. God puts on these little shows sometimes quite unexpectedly just to amuse us.

At one point a girl stopped to sit on a bench nearby and take a stone out of her shoe. I remember thinking - if only all problems were as easy to solve.

Grudem for sale

I was in a charity shop earlier today (Noah's Ark Hospice shop on the Finchley Rd) and was surprised to see a copy of Wayne Grudem's Systematic Theology going for £2. I hope they've gone on to Bavinck rather than having abandoned theology. There was no sign of the previous owner within.

An interesting Saturday

I got everything done here that I needed to do to be out in good time for a trip into London. I popped into the Co-op to buy a cold drink and who should be there but my wife chatting to a neighbour about keeping fit. Both Eleri and I have had problems with our debit cards recently and she offered me cash in case I was short but I said I was fine.

It was as the bus pulled in that I realised that without a debit card I wasn't going to be able to travel. Anyway the bus driver was very nice about it and let me ride free the six or so stops to the place where I get the notices photocopied.

Having competed the photocopying, I enquired at Finchley Road what I could do. A very nice man called Stuart explained to me that a day travel card for Zones 1-6 is £12.30 and so even with the £3 deposit an oyster proves a cheaper option for what I wanted to do. It almost cleaned me out cash wise but eventually, after he had disappeared for 10 minutes to rejig the machine, I got myself sorted and on my way to Trafalgar Square. I tubed to Charing Cross via Baker Street and was surprised how quick I was.

In Trafalgar Square things were in full swing with young James Powell preaching. A few others preached in the sunshine while people enjoyed themselves in the Square, mostly sensibly, though one girl did decide to enter the fountains (and later on some anti-fascists turned up making a noise). I had opportunity to preach near the end - on John 5:39, 40. Early on a middle aged woman shouted at me that the Bible was rubbish so I fixed her eyeballs and asked her if she had read it, which she hadn't - so I pleaded with the crowd that she was being unfair. A few others were listening.

One young man listening quite intently turned out to be an evangelical, Lars from Dresden, just about to return to Germany after a few days in England with family. He was pleasantly surprised to hear us preaching there in the Square. I also met Nigel and Rebecca Graham and family and several church members up in London for a day trip from the Grace Baptist church in Warboys. They insisted in plonking me in the middle of their group photo.

Anyway I left shortly before 3 pm and going home I walked past New Zealand House the site of the Carlton Hotel at one time, as I usually do. I am aware of the blue plaque there marking the fact that Ho worked in the kitchens of the Carlton in 1913. I was especially aware this time round as I am reading a book at the moment (a birthday present from my wife) called A Curious Guide to London by Simon Leyland. I was on the very page that treats of Ho's stay in the city! Before I left central London I spent my last few pennies on a coffee and checked out the interesting section in the book on Trafalgar Square itself.

Before I got to the train I met a very keen vegan, part of a team out in force in Piccadilly Circus. On Friday evening I spoke to two girls in club who are vegetarian and very aware of the issues. I'm not sure they are entirely wrong in their instincts. Animals I am sure do not have souls but some of the things that go on do appear rather barbaric. It is no surprise that many are drawn by the moral arguments and the idea that it is a healthier lifestyle. The jury appears to be out on whether dairy is good or bad for you.

Back here in Childs Hill I bumped into a local character mentioned on this blog before now. I was keen to walk together as we were headed in the same direction. He was just back from a few days in Clacton and anticipating the F A Cup final (he is a big Chelsea fan). Anyway as we came along, there was a smart 'phone in a leather case lying in the middle of the road. I picked it up. It was pink, so I guessed it belonged to a female. I took it home and with my son's help I sought to establish who was the owner. A little investigation suggested it belonged to someone in one of the high rise flats nearby. I went over and was able to return the phone to the grateful owner. She was a lady in her sixties I would guess and when I said who I was she expressed an interest in coming along. I hope she will. (There was a lady who wondered into the chapel yesterday during our club for young people. She is interested in coming too. Let's see.)

After all the excitement, I was worn out. I enjoyed watching the cup final with one of my sons. A rare treat we had our tea in front of the TV like real working class types.Sadly, Chelsea lost as I thought they might.

Saturday is not over, of course, but that is enough for one day.

An example of pareidolia

Pareidolia is a term that refers to the psychological phenomenon in which the mind responds to a stimulus (an image or a sound) by perceiving a familiar pattern where none exists. Common examples are perceived images of animals, faces, or objects in cloud formations, the man in the moon, the moon rabbit, hidden messages within recorded music played in reverse or at higher- or lower-than-normal speeds, and hearing indistinct voices in random noise such as that produced by air conditioners or fans (or your printer in m case. Here is an example of something in my street that I have walked past hundreds of times and that reminds me of an image I would have seen as a child (Brian Jones of the Rolling Stones and his Vox Phantom Mark III guitar.

Kids say the UnPCest things

soulchristmas, CC BY 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0>,
via Wikimedia Commons

https://www.krokant.ch/de/sortiment/weihnachten.php

I was out shopping this afternoon and I overheard a kid, seeing the chocolate Father Christmas, say "Oh look it's a black one not like the normal ones". I don't think anyone else heard him but me.

Flying low

A strand in my life discussed really only by my family is embarrassing and futile conversations I have had with non-native English speakers. I will have to tell you another time about the pronunciation of Sushi and the dead centre of Oradea. Anyway, I saw this man the other day with his flies down. I knew he wasn't a native English speaker. I should have just left it but it seemed to me that here was an opportunity to do a chap a favour and teach him a useful English phrase. So I started "Do you know the expression flying low?" I explained it to him and mentioned the fact that we were in the midst of a current crisis. At this point I'd imagined him rectifying things. But no. So I tried again. As a veteran of such encounters I now know when to leave well alone and I did. Whether he grasped what I was talking about at any level (no pun intended) I don't know. I doubt it.

Things seen (and heard)

So I'm taking a coffee, as I do, and in come a man and his son (about 12) and sit on one of the sofas. The father orders something but the main topic is getting a speech onto the laptop. The speech has been written but the father wants to do some tweeking, quite a lot of tweeking as it turns out. I assumed the father was Eastern European at first but I guess he was Israeli. The speech is for the boy's Barmitzvah and not only is there no secrecy or diffidence on the man's part, he is quite brazen not only about getting the son to completely rearrange the speech but to include whole sections he dictates, including one where the son has to say how blessed he is to have such brilliant great grandparents, grandparents and, you guessed it, parents too! What I liked best was the son's complete co-operation - not a murmur of complaint and yet no meek acceptance either, really - just a "this is a rite of passage I have to go through. This too will pass."

Listening sticks

I was on the streets of Skipton, on holiday, last week and I saw something I had never seen before. Men from the waterboard were putting rods down drains and listening in to the wooden diabolo shapes at the end. I asked what they were doing, having never seen such a thing, and they kindly explained that they were listening for leaks in the pipeline. People often use electronic ones these days but the old fashioned acoustic ones are obviously still being used by some.

A boy's adventure

 

I recently cast eyes on a kukri or Gurkha knife. There used to be one in our house. All my dad's brothers were in the army or similar (they also all drove lorries at some point - my dad did neither) and I guess an uncle in the Welsh Guards came across the knife and brought it home for my dad. It's really an ornament but obviously could do damage and on one occasion I remember my dad using it to cut down a tree or branch.

I must have been five or six (we had not long moved house I recall). Anyway, my mother wanted a clothes line prop. This was a fairly long bit of wood with a V at the end. Now understand that I am a real townie and my dad never took me fishing or hunting or anything like that (although he may have done some such at some point when he was younger). So one Sunday morning I accompany him down to the woods. There are still plenty of wooded areas in my home town (Croesyceiliog, Cwmbran) although there were more then and I think the place where we ended up has now been built over (Snowdon Court?). I don't remember much but we went into the woods and found what we were looking for. My dad hacked into the required prop and then (best bit of all) we carried it home between us (at least that's how I remember it, I was probably not contributing much) to my mother who was delighted at her new line prop. That thing lasted for quite a while until new ideas like rotary clothes driers and so on came in. My dad has been dead a few years now and my mam much longer but it's fond memories like that one that keep their memory alive for me. Barely a day goes by without me thinking of them and all sorts of things can trigger a memory such as the knife above. How God blessed me giving me two parents for so long.

It pays to complain

By nature I am a grumpy old man who always complains about big organisations ripping you off. I had two bits of better news recently. Without going into details Microsoft were very understanding (when I finally got through to the right person) about some payments that I wished to see refunded and so were the War Records people who had taken advantage of an auto renewal system. So it's not all bad news if you are willing to persist.

Things seen (normal human beings)

I was in a  local shopping centre recently and as I was coming up the escalator this woman called down to her husband or boy friend hurrying him along to something she wanted him to be with her on. She urged him to keep up with her "like normal human beings" - this as she and her partner literally ran through the centre. "Normal human beings" are not a common reference point for me as they are for some but I did wonder if her language was justified.

Things seen (Augustine)

I was sat drinking coffee in a coffee shop and I came to the famous part of the Confessions where Augustine is converted (I mean the Tolle Lege bit). Anyway after reading it once again and being moved by it I looked up and I noticed on the other side of the street there was one of these fellows who walks around with a stick and something written on it (probably Jesus) as a way of witnessing. As he walked along with his friend a woman shouted something at him - probably not complimentary. She and her friend appeared to be people with a drink problems. After stopping briefly he walked on with his friend and she and her friend headed the other way so that we six soon briefly formed a triangle - me and Augustine in the coffee shop, the professing Christian and his friend at one angle and the two alcoholics at the other. Augustine was once as lost as the drunks and so was I but God saved him (and me) as he saved the man witnessing and his friend I hope.

Things Seen - Fletcher

I was in a park in Aberystwyth when I saw two dog owners chatting. They looked quite different (young/old, black/white, etc). It was the dogs (Labradors black and chocolate) that they had in common. I heard the one man ask the name of the other's dog and was told it was Fletcher. He repeated the name several times, rolling it around his tongue. He seemed to be looking for a meaning in it beyond the mere sounds. It was an interesting question as I guess he will have little reason to use it. Nevertheless, there is something in us that wants to name things. If I come into contact with a dog, I want to know its name. It's natural.

Things seen (again)

I dashed into a large shopping mall in London today packed to the brim. As I briskly walked along I saw a woman on her mobile phone. As I passed her I saw on her cheek one solitary glistening tear. Her face did not betray too much emotion but she was obviously receiving bad news - not news that made her burst into tears but something that made her weep. I don't know what it was, of course, but it reminded me of the sadness all around us in this world, deep seated sadness that is not easily removed. The jollity and festivity and everyone rushing around simply added to the isolation of the pain.

Modern Life

This was sent to me today. You've all seen this sort of thing. It's one of the things that reminds you that you are living in a world that is and is not like previous ones. I knew it was genuine as I don't bank with Barclays but my bank always begins "Dear esteemed customer".