I hadn't realised it myself. I'm not very good with dates, and years, and anniversaries. But yesterday my Facebook Timeline was full of it. It's 20 years since we were commissioned and ordained. 28th May 1993 at The Royal Albert Hall, London. As I listened to 'Our Songs' The ones written for us, and for the occasion I became a bit nostalgic. As I looked at the video And saw my friends and colleagues I almost felt a pang of grief For the people we were The things we shared. But this is a letter to the 25 yr old girl I was then From the woman I am now "You made it! By the skin of your teeth at times but you got there in the end. And this ending Full of brass, and drums, and singing and laughter and drama and dance is just the beginning. In the years ahead you will know joy Real joy Laughing so hard no sound comes out. Friendships that are only in their infancy here Will become your anchor in the days ahead. And people that ...
It's our Silver Wedding Anniversary on Tuesday. 25 years. I told someone the other day and she gasped, and said, "You don't look old enough" Which is absolutely the right response. We're having a few friends over next Friday night to celebrate. There will be food And dancing And fun And song. 'Our song' to be precise. As we met in the 80's, Our song is 'Solid' (Ashford and Simpson). It's the song we used to dance to at parties. It's the song that made us laugh. It's the song we always talk about when reminiscing. Our 25 years together hasn't been perfect You won't be surprised to hear that. There has been much joyful song. But sometimes the notes have turned dischordant. Sometimes we've sung in a minor key. More recently we have sung songs of lament. But to mis-quote Gloria Gaynor We have survived. We're still standing (Elton John) And we're still singing from the same hymn ...
It’s eight weeks today since I first tested positive for covid. 2021 heralded our 29th Christmas as Corps officers and we were ready for a break. Christmas Day has always felt a bit like our finishing line, and the following days, including the middle Sunday, have always been our time. For family For pj days For rest. So you can imagine how thrilled we were when it was the fourth consecutive period of time off that I’d become ill. This time with covid. Maybe I should have got the message before now? I’m not great at switching off, though I try. We have days off, but they are often interrupted. Instead I saw in the new year asleep in my bed with a hacking cough. And now? I’m half way through two weeks off sick with ‘covid complications’. The last few weeks have been tough. Historically I have episodes of depression, and when the fear strikes I have to remind myself, as my Dr did, that the way I feel is classic Covid/Omicron, and the only way through is to rest. I miss people. I mis...
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