To church

The rain is back again. It has been great to finally have been able to reach the compost heap with my veg peelings without having to find some wellies. It was the first time in weeks. However, I've just peeled the spuds for today's dinner & found the lake is once more blocking the path.

In the dry, if freezing, weather, I also managed a trip to church yesterday, the first time since our return from Italy in October. It came as quite a shock to see how few people were there. St John's is a big Victorian church, easily holding a couple of hundred people. Yesterday I found myself counting the communicants as they went up to the altar - 20!

I supposed I shouldn't be too surprised. As with so many churches, most of our parishioners are retired folk. While I was waiting for someone to unlock the doors to let me in, I noticed Gloria, who lives very near, nervously making her way along the obviously slippery white frozen pavement to church. It was noticeable the average age group of those who did make it was younger than usual. We even had 3 children, including one toddler who was forever running up & down the aisles, bringing a smile to all our faces.

I hope that the weather was the cause of the small congregation. Our church is at present undergoing an interregnum. I know some members of the Parochial Church Council fear that during this time the congregation will evaporate, maybe joining to other local churches, never to return. This week there is going to be a public meeting to discuss the fate of the parish. There is some suggestion we might end up sharing a priest with a neighbouring church. We'll see. It would be a pity, but it may be a necessity.

During the passing of the peace, one elderly parishioner came over to shake my hand. She stopped for a quick chat & asked if I was ready for Christmas. I couldn't help saying no, thinking of all our recent problems, be they deaths or illnesses. She couldn't help commenting that yes Christmas was a lot of work. I agreed, relieved that this year we will be eating out so there's no turkey to cook on the day.

I sometimes think the whole celebration is one great chore. It is a pity. I feel it should be a joyous party to celebrate an important event, & to share that joy with those you love & care about. Instead it becomes one great chore from present shopping (which we've largely abandoned) to card writing to decorating the home like some fairy cake to cooking a traditional meal (rather than just something you enjoy), a time when you feel you are intruding on friends who are busy with their families, when there's no possibility of going out to a pub with others as they are closed so you are forced to stay in (especially when the weather is usually so poor that even a walk is not appealing) watching some very mediocre programmes on TV which you've seen hundreds of times before (thank goodness for videos & DVDs. At least they give some respite from this nightmare). And all this loses sight of the birth of a very special baby who should be at the centre of it all.

I'm sorry. I'm being jaundiced. At least part of my problem this year is that I'm so aware of so many loved ones who've died. I'm still anxious about Den as we've not heard yet how the op's gone. Helen, MK's widow, is into hospital this week for a hysterectomy, so I'm concerned about her. And Steve, the friend who had the liver transplant, has got to go into hospital on the 21st. His appointment last week was cancelled. Until we've got through all these worries, I'm not sure I can settle to celebrate anything much, let alone Christmas.