Window Less Woe

This has been the worst day I can remember.

I think I am in shock. I'm sure I am still shaking slightly.

All my lovely German windows have gone. Not just taken out, but taken away as well. I feel so strange.

The good thing is that I know the windows are in good hands: Stephen's. He was so careful, and kept telling me what would look better when each window comes back.

I understand he can't work on them in the walls. And the most important thing is taking care of them.  And there are a few places where the frames really need to to be repaired. It would be awful to have one just fall out.

So I'm going to be brave, and look on the bright side. Actually there was quite a lot more light flooding in, until the spaces were sealed up. But everything feels so different without them.

Naked Church

It's started. The builders are here. There's a nice young lad called Windsor. And an even younger gentleman called Anthony who seems to be in charge. He has promised to make me look beautiful.

I'm sure I can trust him, but just at the moment, in the night hours when everyone goes home I stay awake and have a bit of a worry. 

You see, my windows are going. My plasters is coming off. Already I have an enormous bare floor to get used to. All this stripping away sounds very uncomfortable. And what will I look like? I'm not as vain as some of my cousins, but I do like to look the part.

I'm going to need all the faith the people talk about. I just have to look forward to what i will look like in the end.

Something's Coming

I can tell something's up. So many people coming and going, my poor doors are feeling quite achy. 

And they're so busy. Books going into boxes and furniture scraping on the floor. Things being taken off the wall. It makes me feel quite naked.

I recognise the signs. I'm up for alterations. You have to expect it at my time of life. And to be honest I quite like the attention. Lots of new people to meet, all with their own vocabulary: lots on new words to learn, and many of those old familiar ones..

But I like this quiet time too: I suppose I've learned a thing or two from that Paul gentleman who gets read out so often when everybody comes to sing and listen: knowing how to entertain a huge crowd one day and then be completely on my own for most of a week.

I like it in the desert, though. The stillness, nobody around. I'm making the most of it. I get the sense I'm in for lots of attention, all over me.

In Need of Help

Not been feeling so chipper lately.
Just the last 20 years or so, I've noticed I've been a bit porous.

And then bits of my inner lining started lifting off. I've had crumbly stuff on my floor.
Most unsightly. It's a blessing the current cleaning team are up to the mark.

Anyway, the good news is there's something afoot. Once more.
I can always tell. You get people traipsing around, looking at you in a certain way.
And then they start measuring, and writing things down.
And talking loudly.

This time it's been numbers of people.
And they've even been in for a sit-down meeting... not to sing and celebrate the Lord's Supper, which is my real purpose in life, but to have a huge discussion. Went on for ages longer than any that I can remember.

But there you are. Folk like to talk. Especially round here. There was lots of hand-shaking at the end. All that 'beautiful', 'unique' and 'extraordinary' that I seem to inspire. It's hard to take it all in.

They should have seen me when I started out, way back in 1750. That was a different story.