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Saturday, 12 April 2008

A dinner party in a car park

Yesterday, walking back from university, I was greeted with the sight of a group of people, dressed up very nicely, having a dinner party in the middle of a car park. They invited me to join them, so I did. They gave me lemonade and apologised that the pizza wasn't there yet. They asked me about myself; who I am, where I'm going. There's something nicely concise about explaining yourself in thirty seconds, as if you're left with a better idea of things than when you started.

They recited a traditional Celtic toast for me to celebrate my coming move to Cardiff.

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again,
may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Plymouth is a place of hills and uneven roads, cracked pavements and slippery slabs.
Wind enlivens me like nothing else, almost convincing me that I could fly if I tried.
I long for the summer, for the warmth and joy of a sunny day.
I have noticed recently more than ever the soft, earthy smell of freshly-rained on ground.
And nothing, nothing in this world, makes me happier, happy to the point of tears, happy to distraction and beyond all reason, than the feeling of being in God's hand.

It was a strange event, them sitting there in their elegant outfits, me in my jumper and jeans. But there's something so right about seizing the moment. May we all learn the courage to do so more often.



    You make my life seem like no fun!

  2. My life is like a desert - 98% boring with the odd little oasis of bizarreness to keep me going. I don't know what I'd do without the bizarreness!

  3. Plymouth? You feel in God's hand in *Plymouth*?? :P

  4. Sadly not. That's why I'm moving!

  5. It's not because she doesn't feel *God's* hand she's moving..... it's *Gav's* hand she's pining for!

    At Uni we used to hold occasional meals in the lift in Stafford Tower (20 stories high). We'd all get dressed up, squeeze a table and chairs in, leaving just enough space for the odd poor sod who really needed to use the lift for what it was made for.

    I remember one Christmas the guys on our floor (all 9 of them) dragged table and chairs out into the lobby, had our Christmas dinner there, and stopped the lift every time it was coming up or down so we could toast the occupants and offer them a drink.

    Ah me - happy days.....

    FBL (old fart)

  6. Hahaha that sounds amazing!

    Just ANYONE'S hand would be nice. I've been lonely for 8 months now.

  7. I don't blame you, Cardiff's much much better :)

  8. Liked all of your "highlighted" posts! You should write a book!

  9. Thank you so much, Jennifer! I hope I do some day.


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