Z is drinking water

Yes, it's worthy of remark. It's seven minutes past seven in the evening, and I have a pint glass in front of me, half full of water. I have drunk the other half already. Oh Lord, it's dull, being a Reformed Character.

One of the hymns I played this morning was dull, too. I've forgotten its name, but it was one of those modern ones that is mostly sung on one note. One holds it for five or six beats, then repeats it once or twice more before venturing slightly up or down. I said to Jo "That's a bit of a dirge, isn't it?". She was shocked and assured me that the words are beautiful. That might well be true, I hadn't looked at them, but the tune was dreary.

I went for lunch with a friend, who took me completely off guard. He asked me if I'd consider taking over from him as Lay Vice-chairman (the Rector is, automatically, the Chairman, but with six PCCs to consider, rarely takes the chair) of the PCC.

Now, I'd not be entirely surprised if, at some time in the future, someone else suggested it, but I hadn't expected this at all from him. However, you may remember that I took the minutes at the meeting last week, and also had several reports to give, both from me and on behalf of absentees. I took the opportunity of explaining the workings of the church Trust, because I had realised that most people were a bit hazy on it and I wanted (devious bastard that I am) to have an excuse to put a couple of things in writing. With all this talking, and sitting at the table next to the chairman, I confess I almost forgot I wasn't taking the meeting and had to pull myself up when I realised that.

The dear chap not only didn't resent that, but also sent me an email saying he thought I'd managed things well. And then, as I said, followed up by asking me to stand in his place when elections take place next spring.

I was, genuinely, charmed by the compliment. I know that, as matters stand, he wouldn't suggest it to anyone else and would rather stay on than risk anything going awry. Yet he also knows that I wouldn't be his 'voice'. A while ago, he wanted to change the wording, rather too much, of some minutes I had written and I gave him a full and frank opinion of quite a lot of what he said - although accepting the rest, for I am not at all pig-headed*. I also know that there is a slight feeling among some other people that it is about time for a change, and that in many ways I am an obvious choice.

So, in Jane Austenish fashion, I said that I was most sensible of the honour he did me, and asked for time to think about it. Which I'm doing now. And which will probably keep me awake tonight, because it doesn't take much, does it? One can go blithely to bed and to sleep and then, come three ay em, one is wide awake bothering one's pretty little head about things that will simply sort themselves out and are not that important anyway.

I haven't said anything to the Sage yet. He'll think I'm barking even to consider it. I have told him that I'm going to buy a bicycle though. I hate cycling. But the doctor is right and I am at all times a model patient.




*Oi! Shuddup, I'm not.