Author: Carol Purves

Unfortunately Cumbria is in the news. Here in Carlisle it is dire. I and my property are unaffected but as a church we are giving assistance to the needy. We are going round the streets with hot drinks and bacon butties.  Most people can now get back to visit their homes but there is no electricity. The damage is terrible and many people just want to talk and talk. They are in shock. Its raining and blowing again this evening. Nothing like it was but people are scared and it brings back memories.

Carol

Just had a day in Glasgow for the Society of Authors, Scotland Christmas Party. It involved a full Christmas lunch and plenty of sociability. This was the first event of theirs that I had attended. The company was really good and I hope to attend other events.

Because it was so close to Christmas, Virgin trains had cheap shopping tickets. It was great as I saved money and never had to go near any shops, as the hotel was close to the station. Just as well as it was pouring of rain. (I only allow myself to moan after we have had 3 days of continuous rain – This is now the 5th day of almost non-stop rain)   Sorry to the people who live in very dry parts of the world. You can willingly have some of our rain.

Carol, the drenched

Yes, that’s today. I stopped to wonder what it represented. It is difficult for us to have a balanced view of the birth of Jesus because we know what happened afterwards.

But just think back to those days when Bethlehem was not a place of pilgrimage. It was of no importance on the Roman map. There was no church of the Holy Sepulchre, no worshiping crowds, no hotels or cafes. Just a few shepherd families and poor hard-working people.

And into this scene, among the hundreds paying their taxes, there was a little baby born in a farmyard. Very few noticed Him then and sadly many do not notice Him today.

Carol

My travelling to Scotland a few days ago was completely safe, with few strong winds, which I was fearing. But I did encounter a snow storm which turned the mountains white, the visibility poor and the scene magical. I then went to Penicuik and to Stirling and Dundee. I wasn’t doing all the driving.

It was the occasion of the conference of the Scottish Fellowship of Christian Writers. Are you a writer and do you live in Scotland? Then you would be very welcome.

Carol, the writer.

Every day through the ever-intrusive media we are shocked, appalled and heart-broken. In spite of the vote and freedom of speech our voices are heard less and less. How can we help the mourning families in Syria, the bereaved from perilous sea-journeys or the starving on our doorstep?

The only voice left to us is the pen, the pen which is mightier than the sword. To write through whatever medium we choose is an outlet for our pent-up emotions. It is no wonder that writing is medically advocated to help the depressed, the suicidal and the lonely. Feelings which are expressed through the word, no longer eat away at our souls.

Historically, the written word has changed the world. Churchill and Martin Luther knew of and used such power. Finally, the ultimate ‘word’, the Bible, has already changed the world.

Carol, the user of words.

I just thought I’d keep you in the loop. this morning I drive up to Edinburgh and then back on Sunday. And our first named storm (Abigail) is forecast.  I’m offering up prayers for safe travelling. (And for anyone on the roads)

Carol, the intrepid traveller.

Just had another exciting meeting. Everyone had the task of writing something with the title of ‘Black Dog’. A wide variety of work was produced. On person wrote a short story where the black dog was used to aid ‘picket-pockets.’ I felt this story had a weakness as the dog in the story could have been any colour.

Another wrote a semi-autobiographical piece which started ‘ There were two black dogs in our family, only one had four legs.’ What a brilliant start for a piece which described the father’s depression. Haiki’s were produced and a fascinating unrelated story. I always say there are no rules in this group, the homework is only a guideline.

This is something you could try at home for January – write a piece titled ‘Red Sky.’ I would love to see your results.

Carol, with no black dog.

I read in the paper that it has been proved that the over 50’s need to play number and word games on their computers to help their memories.  Could I suggest that instead of looking at a piece of machinery they interact with people, talk to people, listen to people. We are human beings, we need to be stimulated by other humans beings. People are getting more non-existent.   Machines are taking over at the banks, supermarkets, buying tickets, etc. It is possible to go for days without speaking to another person. That is what is causing depression and loss of memory.

Another idea is to connect with our Maker. If something is wrong with a machine, the maker can put it right. If something is wrong with our lives, the Maker can put it right.

Carol

The colours of our autumn leaves this autumn are stunning; the best we’ve seen for many years. I expect it’s the same where you are. I think it’s a combination of warm days and little wind and even less rain. May it all continue, for a little while at least. It will make the winter seem shorter.

Let us fear the Lord our God who gives the rain in its season, the autumn rain and the spring rain and keeps for us the weeks appointed for the harvest. Jeremiah 5:24

Carol

While I still have my suntan and cases not fully unpacked I’ll tell you more of my visit to Northern Cyprus. Kyrenia (Girnse) is the main city, a bustling  town  wedged between the The Five Finger Mountains and the Mediterranean.  The harbour is reputed to be one of the most beautiful in the world, with a backdrop of the castle containing traces of the Byzantine, Lusignan and Venetian Periods. (OK, I’ve been looking at the guide book)

Tourism is probably the way forward this country, many strides being made in the last decade. The friendliness of the people is overwhelming, the sun enticing and for me not too far from Britain.

Carol, the traveller