I’m re-reading Lord of the Rings. The first time through it was a rushed job just to say I had read the book before the films came out.Now it’s a more a leisurely stroll through The Shire. I’ve just arrived in the House of Eldrond where Frodo is recuperating after a hazardous first leg of the journey.
Reading Bilbo’s description of the ‘Last Homely House east of the Sea’ I thought to myself ‘I’d like our home to be something like that. ‘
‘Frodo was now safe in the Last Homely House east of the Sea. The house was, as Bilbo had long ago reported, “a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep or story-telling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all”. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear and sadness.’
My youngest brother and his wife left today for at least a year away from Ireland, to explore and have a change of scenery over in Australia (and if you’re reading this you’d better have a good time, stay safe and come back again…) so I’m feeling a bit sad and unsettled I suppose.
We took the Christmas tree down earlier and packing it up I was wondering if that was the last time we’ll have the tree up in this particular house. From the 15th January on H___ is free to be called as a minister with her own church. I’m not sure how to phrase that.
Obviously it wouldn’t be her church as the idea isn’t that she would finally be promoted to looking after her own church like passing a driving test and finally being allowed to drive on your own more that congregations who are vacant and looking for a minister can start approaching her more formally and saying ‘Would you be interested in being our minister?’
This has the power to unsettle me a lot as I have no idea where we might end up. I think we’d both like to move to a church in the south of Ireland but this last few years have been so tough on us the idea of moving anywhere and wondering if it will be as bad as the last few years has the power to keep me up at night. And it has.
I wasn’t expecting to sea bass
laid out on the pavement along the Belsize Road
as if it was Saturday morning at St George’s Market
but there it was lying there
marooned, looking fresh
‘What can that mean?Surely it’s a sign..’
So I pondered the sign on the way home and the only sign
I could come up with walking down the Moss Road
is that we’re both fish out of water here in Lambeg