The newspapers today are full of talk about Zimbabwe, a news story which I haven't given my undivided attention to. This is a pity because this evening I had the smallness of our world brought home to me once again.
I have been asked to do the funeral of a Mytholmroyd lady, a sculptor who moved into one of the tops houses in the 1970's. I drove up a very steep and windy lane to visit her husband an daughter listening to my radio which is permanently tuned to Radio 4 and hearing yet more news about Zimbabwe. The house was an amazing 17th century farm house filled with art work she spent so long creating. There were lots of beautiful creations in bronze and resin which impressed me greatly. Her story greatly impressed me too and I have no idea how I am going to do her justice. It turns out she was born in Bulawayo in Zimbabwe (Rhodesia then) and had come to Mytholmroyd via St Ives to work and produce her art. As I left the radio was still talking about Zimbabwe and I listened a bit more closely now the connection had been made.
Incidentally whilst I was out the house I was shown one of 18 different stone masons marks on the stones of the house. Apparently in medieval times when a stone mason hewed a stone he marked it with his own individual mark so that he would get paid. You felt very connected with these rough craftsmen who four hundred years ago marked a stone to show they had made it. wouldn't it be great if the building blocks of our communities and towns were individually marked by those who built them.
It made me think about the things I do, will I put my sign on it?
Who knows but I hope they are still here in 400 years.
Who knows but I hope they are still here in 400 years.
Someone set me a conundrum today: "why don't churches have postboxes?" Answers in an e-mail to...
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