tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-51985820584886607692024-03-05T19:32:22.991-08:00THE COMPANY OF HEAVEN by Catherine FoxVolume 5 of the Lindchester ChroniclesCatherine Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13474915175193477553noreply@blogger.comBlogger2125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5198582058488660769.post-225001766671427822021-05-02T12:01:00.000-07:002021-05-02T12:01:05.030-07:00<p><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ngAdRF8bohaVQSsuzBEJUN2sJk8Nfw5HLjwxTouU6f8Nk9ss8WmlTCnodWR_3NqxcUVDSI9zjQMWfozVNVaZAnIYRiOtZD7AYL0y1gPXJD6YWEpqo0dhUoJS4eD7GyIPeMqhLjR6jS4-/s2048/2DF58153-D3E2-4062-8730-061C9FFA1018.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2000" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ngAdRF8bohaVQSsuzBEJUN2sJk8Nfw5HLjwxTouU6f8Nk9ss8WmlTCnodWR_3NqxcUVDSI9zjQMWfozVNVaZAnIYRiOtZD7AYL0y1gPXJD6YWEpqo0dhUoJS4eD7GyIPeMqhLjR6jS4-/w624-h640/2DF58153-D3E2-4062-8730-061C9FFA1018.jpeg" width="624" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">PROLOGUE<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Each
time I finish blogging a volume of the Lindchester Chronicles, I vow it will be
the last.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But here we are again, dear
reader, about to set off on a new adventure. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘As a dog returneth to his vomit,’ says the
proverb writer, ‘so a fool returneth to his folly.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I’ve never had a dog, but I’m guessing most owners haul
the dog away and swiftly clear up, (before googling ‘How to get dog vomit
smell out of carpet.’) We must not collapse the distinction between vomiting
and regurgitation, however.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Regurgitation
is a natural and wholesome process in the animal kingdom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have much to learn from the ordering of the natural world. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
behoves us to remain humble, and recall that God does not make mistakes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">If we are going to argue from nature, we cannot do better
than contemplate emperor penguins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Everyone loves emperor penguins, with their monogamous heterosexual lifestyle,
so unlike those gay zoo penguins that one reads about.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The male emperor penguin incubates the egg, while
the female goes off foraging for food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
may at first sight look like a troublesome example of gender role reversal, but
we would do well to remember that if an activity is undertaken by the male of
the species, it is de facto more arduous and perilous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mother penguin returns from two months at
sea with a belly full of fish, which she regurgitates for her newly hatched
chick to eat. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Such a normal and
beautiful thing! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I imagine mothers
reading this find themselves wishing they could do the same for their own
children. Images arise unbidden of foraging through the aisles of Sainsbury’s, cramming their maw with donuts, before
returning home to their clamouring brood.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We will leave the antarctic wastes and bring things closer to
home by wandering through the fields of Lindfordshire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What could be more soothing than the pastoral
image of Daisy placidly chewing her cud?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As you may recall from school Biology lessons, this is really Daisy regurgitating
a bolus of food into her mouth, which she re-chews and re-swallows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Cows have a quite terrifying number of stomachs and digestive enzymes, the details of which need not detain us here. To be honest, your author bunked off school on the day of that particular test, to avoid having to learn all that guff. </span>I will skip nimbly from cows to dogs, and
conjure a picture of a golden labradoodle (let us call him Bear) retching behind the sofa—and
thence to the proverb writer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘As a dog
returneth to his vomit.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vomiting in
dogs is caused by ‘dietary indiscretion’ (in Bear’s case, a rotting badger and
two pairs of underpants).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bad boy!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Leave!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I would argue that a dog returning to its <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">regurgitation</i> is less problematic, as this is probably just hastily
gobbled food that never made it as far as the stomach.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not being picky eaters, dogs are fine with that idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hey, most of it still smells like food, and besides,
they haven’t finished with it yet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>All this is by way of an apologia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Revisiting Lindchester may look like
folly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I daresay (caveat lector) there
will be parts of this narrative that leave you grimacing with disgust. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I keep going back because there’s stuff
there I haven’t finished with yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Interestingly,
if you read the next proverb in the Bible, it’s this: ‘Seest thou a man wise in
his own conceit? There is more hope of a fool than of him.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The hope of this fool is that she knows she’s
a fool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She may yet listen, change her
mind, and amend her ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man wise in
his own conceit is beyond the reach of hope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Armoured in the tower of his conviction, he will defend to the last any
assaults on his rectitude.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It
is not the business of this narrative to make the reader relive the first
quarter of 2021. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let other pens dwell on
Capitol riots, inaugurations, and impeachments. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will re-join our Lindchester friends on
Easter Monday, just as the third lockdown in our Covid winter of discontent
draws to a close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The new paschal candles have been lit. </span>The endless snowy ghastliness of January, February, and March are behind us now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We trudged for three months on short rations
of hope, with nothing to look forward to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or so it felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely our spirits
ought to have risen with every day that passed, every extra minute of daylight,
every dose of vaccine administered?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For
once, the government’s flightpath out of lockdown is holding firm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Flightpath is not the right word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The right word has vanished, like a picture
from a wall. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stare gormlessly at the space
where it ought to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ll have to make do with flightpath, until
the correct phrase reappears later on when we no longer need it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Covid brain fuzz.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s as though some well-meaning buffoon has been tidying up our mental desk and misfiling half our vocabulary.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It feels like this whole year hasn’t really happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can we still be here, twelve months on
from the first lockdown when it was all Zoom and Zumba, and weirdly
exciting?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely we drove a stake through
the heart of 2020, so it could never come back?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We stood by our windows at midnight on New Year’s Eve as fireworks flickered in the clouds
like sheet lightning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Near and far the red
stars, green sprinkles, and white flowers crackled and popped across
Lindfordshire, declaring it was finally over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">still</i> be like this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What if it replays endlessly, and we never
move on?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like that film, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Warthog Day</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But the end of lockdown is in sight now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In another week, non-essential shops can
re-open, and we will be permitted to sit shuddering in pub gardens enjoying a pint with pals we haven’t seen for months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many of us have had the first dose of the
vaccine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The worst is over and spring is
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Look!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Daffodils and primroses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Listen!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The chiffchaffs are back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why so
glum?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We need not enquire why the long
hair; but why the long face, people of Lindfordshire?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are we not an Easter people?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is hallelujah not our song? Hallelujahs
famously get cold and broken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are hosanna
people these days: hosanna, in the sense of ‘save us now!’ <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hosanna at 3am when we lurch awake in dread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hosanna when we can’t face another day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hosanna when we are going under.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let all our panicked hosannas clatter up to
the highest heavens like pigeons, with SOS tied to their tiny pink legs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And we will fly too, dear reader, as is our custom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This time we take things in a more dignified
manner, a month at a time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will not proceed
like a sparrow with a hawk locked on its tail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Instead we will aspire to the dignified wingbeats of a heron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Roadmap!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s the
word, not flightpath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A heron flying over is a fairly common sight in Lindfordshire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might even spot one in suburban areas, scouting
for a nice peaceful garden pond where it can stand on one leg and think deep
thoughts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, it will get mobbed by jackdaws,
who rouse a rabble of other garden birds in a great cacophony of alarm calls until
the poor heron departs for a quieter life on the banks of the Linden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe the jackdaws think that the heron
is trying to steal their nesting material.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But frankly, if nesting material is left lying about, all bets are off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m on the heron’s side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, what is the writing life, if it is
not long periods of standing on one leg thinking deep thoughts, punctuated by tiresome
episodes of mobbing and twittering?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><span style="font-size: medium;">So come, dear reader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let us take to the air once more, and fly through these hosanna-riven
Lindfordshire skies, towards the village of Turlham.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is one of the rural hamlets of which Fr
Ed is vicar, and where Neil is revamping Turlham Hall boutique hotel, with the
help of Freddie Hardman-May.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We will catch
up with them in due course.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But first,
we will be making some new friends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-indent: 36pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p>Catherine Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13474915175193477553noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5198582058488660769.post-88482095127275542452021-04-13T07:30:00.002-07:002021-04-13T07:30:44.525-07:00COMING SOON<p>Welcome to my new blog. </p><p>I'm currently working on the first chapter of <i>The Company of Heaven</i>. I'll be uploading it some time in May. This time round I'll be blogging in monthly instalments of around 6000 words. We will be catching up with some of our old friends, and meeting some new ones. There will be flowers and gemstones, good and bad behaviour. Angels and archangels, and all the company of heaven. </p><p>All of which is to say, I won't know until I've written it. As always, it will depend to some extent on what the year serves up to us. If you subscribe to the blog, it should magically appear in your inbox each time I upload a new chapter.</p><p>In the meantime, you can pre-order <i>Tales from Lindford</i> here <a href="https://spckpublishing.co.uk/tales-from-lindford-456" target="_blank">https://spckpublishing.co.uk/tales-from-lindford-456</a> It will be published on May 20th.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRdvhFbC44hRPBQotq48m-wUpOI4Ekm6F57jPfwUCMJgZlbMQrCgaLVfwzH5Mr3HgGdOIEMyL5Kh9ZvlmYLVKikncB5TBLqIfo9VAhfi2Lq59AgDo_0CrBc45CjdVY8PM-Lr-JVD80FsPR/s499/TfL+pic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="499" data-original-width="326" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRdvhFbC44hRPBQotq48m-wUpOI4Ekm6F57jPfwUCMJgZlbMQrCgaLVfwzH5Mr3HgGdOIEMyL5Kh9ZvlmYLVKikncB5TBLqIfo9VAhfi2Lq59AgDo_0CrBc45CjdVY8PM-Lr-JVD80FsPR/w418-h640/TfL+pic.jpg" width="418" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Catherine Foxhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13474915175193477553noreply@blogger.com2