Not much going on with the old grey matter right now, I'm afraid. This is mainly what my Lent seems to be about, it is mortification of the intellect, of curiosity and of reason that seem to be what is needed off me. I'm too ill for fasting and nothing else seems to be a particular struggle or battle that needs to be faced. I am naturally an inquisitive, thinky person, but it seems very important to avoid questions of the "what if?", "how?", "when?", "could?" variety. In itself it is not enough, but it is coupled to a desire to keep my eyes fixed firmly on the cross and to retain a holy trust and joy in my heart.... simple heh..... It is kind of working as there is peace, but physically it is exhausting, one has no strength of one's own, when one mortifies that which so often keeps one going. But tiredness and weariness can be good things, one learns patience in this state....... patience with others, patience with self and most importantly patience with God....
The author of this blog, like everyone else, can't live as a hermit, the world does impinge, it is enveloped in a thick smog of incomprehension, but somehow one has to engage with it.
I'm finally getting round to getting a new-to-me car, and oh the vanity of it all, I've gone for something that looks good and is impractical (3 doors, minuscule boot), but it is a northern European make, sturdy, safe, reliable, gimmick free and designed for tall people.... (who am I kidding!)
I'm fed up with signing into my e-mail and being faced with the image of a simpering woman in a beige jumper telling me it is better if I wash everything at 30 degrees, that I'm harming the planet if I don't. How long will it be before washing machines wont do a boil wash? Well, simper away as you get horribly ill from some nasty fungal infection and bed bugs picked up from hotel towels and sheets that have only been subjected to 30 degrees. The new moral order; totally arbitrary, with no founding on religious or natural law; telling us what is right and wrong.... E-cigarettes to be banned in public places, but "bending over backwards" (ahem) to help with the health problems associated with promiscuity and sodomy, rather that just saying they are wrong and very harmful.
Am I the only one to mourn the passing of the tax disc? It is a decidedly quaint perforated paper disc that tells us in the UK if the car we are looking at is fully taxed. It is so very British, nobody else has them. Foreign tourists have stopped me and asked me what they are, and we have struck up a good conversation. There is the annual excitement of seeing what ingenious colour they can come up with. There is the annual terror of not removing it as a perfect circle as you tear round those perforations. Oh, there are so few perforations left in our lives; no more "green shield stamps", no more perforated postage stamps, soon no more tax disc! Very sad.... And practically, if you live in an area where cars get dumped, looking at the tax disc is the first stage of ascertaining if anything suspicious is going on when you see a car hanging about that you haven't seen before.
Coursework or "controlled assessments" (as they have been rebranded), need marking. This is just about the most irritating thing about being a teacher. Come on Mr Gove, sort these out. They are a pointless exercise in anxiety and hoop jumping. As the smog of incomprehension and Saharan dust descends on this forgotten corner of Wessex, I can be quite grateful my brain has gone awol, because if I thought about what I was doing, I'd go insane.