Sunday 23rd June

 O Sabbath rest...

When my mother was little Sunday was a solemn affair; best clothes walking sedately to church (twice), perhaps a little walk in the afternoon but no noisy, energetic play or laughing and loud talking. This was in the Netherlands, but I'm sure many others of us had similar experiences.

My childhood Sundays were very different. My parents were not churchgoers in spite of their upbringing, apart from Christenings, Marriages and Funerals. We had a lazy morning,  monumental Sunday lunch and soporific afternoon s. 

 Sundays were hectic at university - I was fully embroiled ininvolved with the Christian Union which meant charging around from prechurch prayer meetings to morning service and afternoon fellowship and evening gatherings. Monday mornings came as a bit of a relief. 

Once I was the church organist Sundays became a working day - early service (three hymns intro and outro) family service (at least 6 hymns and songs, walking at a brisk clip between the piano at the front and the organ at the back plus intro and outro) and midweek practice and admin, oh and don't forget evening prayer... and the Sunday lunch...

Somewhere between all these different kinds of Sunday there has to be a middle way.

Today I listened to Sunday Worship on radio4 (thanks for heads up, Ang), read, (Peter Duck, by Arthur Ransome), watched the tennis and made a cake. 

We've been using bread machines for over 20 years - why has it taken me so long to try the 'cake' programme?

Thinking about it, Peter Duck is quite a good choice of book; there was a storm and an earthquake and a volcano eruption all in one night... earthquake, wind and fire, followed by calm...

Jigsaw

There doesn't seem to be much left to do; but still a surprising number of pieces in the box yet. I did have a few quick looks at the picture but mostly I have managed without it. The houses were very confusing.