being worthy in Worthing

Kind friends drove me to a lecture at the Worthing Theological Society on Monday evening. Not my normal milieu.  It was in a Baptist church in West Worthing which smelled of fresh paint and clean baptists. The speaker was a loved Quaker guru, Harvey Gillman, and the room was packed, question time afterwards was unstoppable. But don`t ask me what the talk was about as it sort of washed over me (the subject was mysticism) Most of it went right over my head but I enjoyed the flow of words and imagery. The evening had begun with a delicious supper at the best fish restaurant in Worthing polished off with a nice glass of Pinot Grigio, so what more can anyone ask?
At last I am going to replace my much loved rustbucket, the Nissan Micra with the missing hubcaps, bumped into bumper, and gaffer taped extremities.  I can no longer bear the pitying glances of Ditchlingites and others.   Simon Brown, an old schoolmate of my three sons, who finds cars for people, is on the case.  `I`ll sort you out Vick` he promises, so before long I will have a sleek limo outside St Dominic`s Cottage.
Also I have Bob the Builder sorting out the downstairs loo and place-to-put-my-muddy boots. So I won`t know myself soon. May as well spend, spend, spend, as there are no pockets in shrouds as someone used to say but I can`t remember who.

Neither shaken nor stirred.

I went to see Freefall the new James Bond movie. I always used to despise James Bond films, but now that my heroine Judi Dench has such a large role in them (and she`s Quaker) and also this new one had excellent reviews, I have come round to them. I really enjoyed it: stuunning photography of London, Macau, Istanbul, wonderful chases over rooftops,and an ending with shades of Macbeth in a ruined church in the wilds of Scotland. Though it was a bit violent, there weren`t too many dead bodies, the baddies just seemed to get up and walk away.
I drove to Petworth on Sunday, along the spectacular A272 in all its autumn glory to meet son T and family for a pub lunch. There were solemn processions of Brownies and Guides and old soldiers waving flags in the villages for Remembrance Day. I stopped for the Silence at 11am near a village war memorial. All those names, many with several from the same family, heartbreaking. I wear my white poppy but I don`t know what it means really.
I am finding all the BBC shenanigans quite baffling. I used to think that it was just daft old women like me who forget to check things, get events and people mixed up, make ghastly mistakes, but no, it happens with highly educated, hugely paid, super intelligent people who should know better.
A group of us Ditchling villagers have managed to resuscitate the Village Choir, so we are all swaying and tapping our feet whilst singing Ive Got Rhythm and Dancing Queens again on Sunday afternoons. We are doing a concert at the Dome in Brighton next week (in the foyer, its free!)     

oops

I missed out a word in my last blog. It should have read `a downstairs loo put in`    Sorry, it must have been a bit mystifying.

shooting the rapids

I went to the pool with Tiger and her friend as it was half term, and instead of sedately swimming my lengths as I usually do, I found myself imbroiled in `funtime` with jets of water cascading in every direction, strong currents sweeping me round and round, surrounded by a screaming inferno of children. Once I gor over the shock and became used to the noise,  I rather enjoyed it.   I also met old friends from Winchester amongst the heaving mass, lovely Francis McKeith`s daughter and grand daughters who were staying at a Youth Hostel nearby.
I have been having computer troubles both with the ghastly poetry moodle and also getting into this blog! I sometimes feel as if there are unseen forces conspiring against me. I miss the `big girls`from Brighton who are now away at uni as they were my computer gurus. But son T has been giving me some remote advice and I havegot back to the blog.   I think I will abandon the moodle, I bit off more than I can chew there.
I went to the Dome in Brighton with son in law D ( a delayed birthday present) to see a stand up called Josie Long; political, funny, big and clumsy, like Miranda on the telly. She was a delight  (I looked around at the packed audience and realised I was about three times the age of almost every one there but no matter)
I have been having builders in to see if it is practical to have a downstairs put in. I can see they are not keen as soon as they cross the threshhold. I asked one how long it would take and he said 5 or 6 weeks. I would have thought he could have built a whole row of houses in that time.