I knew I was forgetting a category of Ascensiontide prizes last night.

To Elizabeth, for remembering Beltane:

Just to say — if anyone is trying to reach me on my mobile, you are out of luck. It is off being repaired. There’s a slight chance I might get the sim card working in an old headset, but don’t rely on it.  The phone won’t be back till I’m on my holidays, so no mobile till the start of June.

Now, pray that the car behaves over the hills…

At last the results of the Ascensiontide contest are in,
and there are winners in two categories.

To Kelvin, for multidisciplinary excellence:

To Rosemary, for unfailing optimism and prophetic speech:

In Dunoon, yesterday was both Pentecost and Flower Pot Sunday. The Flower Pots began last year as part of The Growing Season. Attentive readers might remember discussion on the ‘learning’ side of the Growing Season: six weekly challenges relating to prayer, scripture, talking about faith, etc. But in Dunoon, we also played a game with fund-raising.

A couple of years ago at Synod, someone had worked out that if every communicant member of the SEC gave an extra pound a week, ALL of the financial problems of the church would very soon be solved. And then, of course, if people kept giving that extra pound a week, a huge amount of money could be released for mission and ministry. I loved the idea. It was simple, easy to explain, and easy to do. But somehow, as a province we didn’t run with it.

So Dunoon is on a mission to tell the church: it works.

The game was this: last Pentecost I gave everyone a flower pot (blessed Ikea…). Each person was asked to keep the pot in the kitchen and put a pound in a week. If at any point during the year they genuinely needed that money, they could raid the pot. But if they didn’t, then the pot would go to the church on Pentecost.

I didn’t make much of this through the year, though I often heard others talking about it. On Sunday, the pots came in, and we scattered coins around the altar. So far, we’ve raised £1,128 (if memory serves), and there may be more to come. That’s close to 5% of our annual giving, and it was utterly painless.

And the thing that really cheered the soul? At the end of the morning, several people came up to me and said, ‘can we take the pots away again to use them this year?’

Yes, dear ones. And the Rothesay pots will appear as soon as I can get back to the Swedish Shrine for supplies.

Today’s favourite quote? On a totally different subject:
‘I was talking to (my daughter’s boy-friend) about Amos last night, and…’

…must we endure Hymns Ancient and Miserable?

Even for Pentecost half the hymns are grim.

Still, a double dose of Come Holy Ghost and O thou who camest should make up for a great deal.

Warning: this is a post from the provinces. City folk will sigh and say, ’so?’.

Today, like Monday, was half-work, half-play. But both happened in Glasgow.

It’s not often I stop for street performers. There’s a piper who I think is superb whom I slow down for. A man who plays with a crystal ball who is fun to watch on a sunny day (this is about balence and object manipulation, not fortune-telling). A South-American dance band that occasionally raise a smile.

But today, I was so distracted that I walked straight past where I was going and crossed the street before realizing it. The piper and the African drummers had teamed up. Reel of the Royal Scots like I had never heard it before. Lots of happy people laughing at the surprise of it. One rural priest thinking: hmm, how can we do this to Liturgy?

Not the drums or the pipes, necessarily, but the totally-unexpected mixed with the very familiar.

Meet Stanley. He got flattened by a bulletin board.

He has come to visit from the States, and is helping a little girl named Molly learn geography.

He’s just arrived and will be with me for a few days. Photo opportunities abound.

So, there we were, quietly paddling about in the river:  my friend in wide linen trousers cuffed and safety pinned at the knee, and me in a full length skirt, gathered up in swathes to a decorous ‘below the knee’.  Oh, and I had my handbag over my shoulder,  of course, since it held my water and keys.

Somehow I don’t think that’s quite the view the three twenty-somethings were expecting when they climbed up the salmon leap.

Blessed Google. More search-string amusement. Someone found the blog today when they asked for ‘edgy quirky boutique’.

Perfect descriptor of the SEC, no?