Sunday, February 14, 2016


So, it’s Valentine’s Day. A day which has been indistinguishable from every other day of the year for the duration of my existence, today being no exception.

I did, however, get my predictions for the year a little wrong, as last Sunday a fellow at church asked me if I wanted to see a movie and gave me his phone number. He has occasionally cornered me and mentioned coffee in the past and so on. The problem is that he is intellectually impaired and it is sadly not a real possibility. So I am still working out how to best manage it. Seriously though, in this case I was pleased with the arrangement as I didn’t want to give him my phone number, but why is it that men nowadays give me their number or tell me to call, rather than calling themselves? I’d have more respect for a man who made the call himself than for a man who told me to. And I wouldn’t call in any case. If a man wants to use the phone to bring about these things, he is going to have to use his own phone, because I don’t like calling and I don’t want to call a man who hasn’t called me first. The iron has entered my soul (do you know, apparently that phrase entered the English language through Coverdale’s sometimes erroneous translation of the Psalms? You can read it on this blog, though that blogger also writes “like most beauty it is utterly wrong”, which lessens my inclination to believe him) and I am not taking that sort of initiative, no matter whether the man has told me I can or not.

I guess I can always hope there’ll be a third time, coming from a mature Christian man I can actually accept. But, I didn’t come here to write about romance (and I should refrain lest a man think anything he does will find its way to this blog, the reality being that I’d be reluctant to show evidence of a relationship on social media till it was a very sure thing and that was mutually agreed upon, otherwise there is much to be removed or pained about if it doesn’t work out). I was actually just going to share a picture, which is a print from an old black and white glass plate slide that belonged to my Dad. We don’t actually know where he got it from. I took it in last weekend and asked for a 10” x 12” print, without thinking about how that would suit the dimensions of the slide, so they cropped it a little, which is a shame, but I still like it.

I really should get back to writing about books. I am currently plodding my way through a re-reading of George Eliot's Middlemarch, which is such a magnificent epic and I have marked many pages.

A photo posted by Alison Payne (@thisfoggyday) on

No comments: