Pictorial blethers

By blethers

Looking to the future

Staggering to bed yet again too late for how I feel, I need first to record what we were doing today ...

We went for the 10am ferry, which pulled out, absolutely full, just as we joined the queue. Saturday mornings are busy. But it was only 15 minutes till the next one and we were in good time at Largs to buy double espressos to go in Nardini's and take them on the ferry to Cumbrae. We were there to attend the AGM of the Friends of Cumbrae Cathedral, which we've not been able to go to for years when it's fallen nearer the end of autumn, despite the fact that we've been members for a long  time and it's a cause very close to  our hearts.

The Eucharist in the Cathedral opened the meeting, followed by a sandwich lunch in the Refectory and a chance to chat to old friends. I hate meetings, I have to confess, but this one was about a building that has mattered to us for over half a century, with complex governance and even more complex needs. Right now, the College is closed to the usual kinds of people who would visit - retreat groups, choirs, painting groups, craft and prayer groups - and is occupied instead by the workers building the flood defences in Millport. But when they go ...

I'm not going into all that. Instead, I'm posting a photo of a view I don't think I've used here before, of the cloisters and the lawn where in past times we've socialised, drunk champagne, eaten cake at weddings and scones at the Jubilee, hobnobbed with various bishops at a pre-Lambeth weekend, and - in my case as with someone else I was talking to - checked how our newly-painted icons were faring as they dried after varnishing. The windows above are of some of the rooms where we've stayed so often, and down some stairs off-picture to the left is the kitchen where, 55 or so years ago, I learned to cook by skivvying for an aged and awe-inspiring priest in cassock and long white apron while he made apple pies and cooked stews for our dinner while cursing Himself for putting the wrong fuel on the Aga ...

You can tell I have strong memories associated with this lovely place. You can read one account of it here, if you're interested, and if you're attracted by what you read you can perhaps be in a position to make the last sentence of the page I've linked to come true again. 

The day ended, after a pretty animated discussion session, with the quiet of Evensong in the choir stalls before we headed for the ferry, the drive from Largs, the ferry and home. I'll be referring to Cumbrae again in the next couple of weeks, but for now all I can think of, yet again, is sleep ...

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