When the Sunday Adventurers (aka Sunday School kids) troop into Church towards the end of the service, each one is clutching a paper dove. Presumably fashioned by their own Fair Hands.
Before the final hymn the Rector invites them all out to the front to show off their handiwork. "And do you know why you have made doves?" he asks one, hopefully. He should have known better: the lad emphatically shakes a doubtful head. I can almost
hear all the Sunday School teachers groaning and hiding their metaphorical heads in their equally metaphorical arms.
I feel duty bound to head over and express commiserations, once I have collected a cup of
coffee and a biscuit from the tables set out at the back of the church. It seems it was even worse than I imagined. The entire Sunday School session had been spent explaining baptism in the simplest terms in preparation for next Sunday's Family Service which
will include a christening. "We even had a pretend christening with a doll!" wailed one of the teachers. All I can do, to show my sympathy, is to admire the paper doves - so simple to make but so effective. I am not sure I am much comfort.
As I walk home, I carry out some Front Door Research. Mr B and I are contemplating replacing our front door, having admired our next door neighbours' new door when we recently spent a pleasant evening with them watching footie
and enjoying a roast chicken dinner. It's not an easy decision because our's is the original front door from when our house was built in 1955. It's solid oak and rather beautiful in its own way but it's also somewhat dated, needs constant nurturing and - most
importantly from Mr B's point of view - draughty.
Mr B is all for making a decision. "Out with the old, in with the new!" appears to be his new motto. It's a wonder that I've survived all this time in my role
as wife, being somewhat dated, in need of constant nurturing and with an unfortunate habit of leaving doors draughtily open as I trot constantly between living room and kitchen.
Hence my Front Door Research
on my way home from church. As I pass each house I make a rough assessment on the basis of (i) colour; (ii) style; and (iii) general appropriateness to the rest of the house. If I carry on this way whenever I walk anywhere over the remainder of the week, then
I should arrive at a fairly sound idea of what I like and what I don't like. It won't help me in the fundamental decision of whether to replace our existing door or not, but I will be far better informed. In theory, in any case.
Obviously, as regular readers will be aware, my new addiction to walking everywhere has less to do with Front Door Research and more to do with keeping up my Satisfaction Ratings with Miss Fit who is, if you recall, a poor man's Fitbit, having cost
me a mere £17 in the local chemist. Walking to and from church earns me 453 points out of my target 1000 a day. Walking to Tesco's, on the other hand, earns me 500 points each way. Possibly this is why more people go to the supermarket on a Sunday morning
than to Church?
Yesterday I managed to accumulate 1000 points by walking to Tesco's (to buy Mr B his favourite dish of lamb shanks with roast vegetables. I took the bus home as it started to rain - I'm not
that obsessed. Honest.) I followed this (after waiting for the rain to stop) by walking the long way round to the Pet Shop and back to stock up on supplies for the RSPB Garden Bird Watch (see yesterday's Blog.) I was still a bit short Points-Wise, so I spent
most of the evening finding reasons why I needed to go upstairs and downstairs, after the fashion of Wee Willie Winkie, he of nursery rhyme fame. This annoyed the hell out of Mr B on account of the fact that I kept leaving the living room door open, lending
weight to his argument that we need to replace our draughty front door...
Sooner or later, we shall have to make a Door Related Decision.