St. John’s at St. Luke’s

I happened to be watching BBC News on tv last night when the story broke of the attempted assassination of former President Donald Trump immediately after it had happened. A former occasional colleague from my long-ago radio days, Gary O’Donoghue, was on the scene at the Trump rally for World Service when the shooting happened, and he did a great job of reporting live in the immediate aftermath and beyond, including interviews with eye-witnesses from the crowd and updates on developments as they happened. Very compelling television, and props to Gary for his excellent coverage.

After church this morning I sat for some time in the churchyard near the spot where Mum and Dad’s ashes are buried. The flower in my blip is Goldencup St. John’s Wort (Hypericum patulum), which is growing as a bush not far from their plot. I wouldn’t recommend this shrub to pet owners for their gardens, as the fruit is harmful to humans and animals if eaten, but I thought the flower was lovely.

Later at home I cleared out some surplus bedding from the airing cupboard. I put three pairs of Mum’s pyjamas in a bag with her other clothes that I’m going to make into teddy bears for my sister and me. There was another pair which wasn’t suitable and held unhappy memories, so I cut that up to use for dusters. Doing this sort of thing still hurts every time.

I will try to get an earlier night this evening before the journey back to the flat and a full-on day’s work there tomorrow.