Books by Ian Rogers
Books by Ian Rogers
It’s been quite a week and it’s only Wednesday. A fortnight ago I wrote off my wife’s car, carelessly exiting our drive. Ouch! After some car- and soul- searching we upped our limit and bought a six year old, one owner one-of-them with only14,000 miles on the clock.
On Saturday the bank blocked payment because they thought it was a scam. Lots of phone calls and hassle and the mobile signal kept failing. Sorted by visiting the bank on Monday. They meant well.
The car was delivered Monday afternoon. It has half as many gizmos as most newer cars and twice as many as I want. Bring back the Moggie 1000.
Monday evening was great. I volunteered to teach some adults basic canoeing skills and, after many delays and a thunderstorm we finally got on the water about 7.30 p.m. I hadn’t been on the water for 25 years. My wetsuit still fitted and its elasticity pulled in my saggy tummy so I looked quite good (even if my wife did laugh at me!)
The guys (both sexes) were lovely people and we had a great time. We hope to go again in a couple of weeks.
I spent Tuesday on an overdue clear out of the garage. There was so much potentially useful stuff in there. It was so good to obsessively make space for most of it in the garden shed and in the lean-to I built a few years ago.
The car had a panic attack when I put it in the garage - a crescendo on bleeping and the headlights came on automatically. Who knew cars could be claustrophobic?
While clearing out I found two False Black Widow spiders. Yukky, fat black things that even I, a trained zoologist, don’t like to touch. I tipped them into safe corners, sent good vibes at them and hoped they’d be nice to me in future.
Today I went to a friend’s funeral. A quiet, humorous , practical man, he had a tragic accident and went from being happy and active to almost a vegetable.
After months of intensive care he was moved to a care home where he lingered, bed-ridden and in pain, for over a year. Able to manage short conversations, flashes of humour remained; he was more of a chilli pepper than a cucumber. His accident, illness and passing have not been easy for the members of our the small church. Such things test our faith and our trust in God.
To those of no faith, these things are inexplicable and meaningless. One girl said: “Stuff happens” and shrugged her shoulders. To her, life must be a lottery or a game of roulette. Thank God for the resurrection and the promise of joining Him in heaven.
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