Missing cat

 Cleo our three legged cat went out last Wednesday and has not come back. She has three legs because she came home months ago with a broken leg which the vet told us would not mend. He se the need to amputate. She was progressing well learning how to walk on three legs. She was upset in not being able to chase the squirrels off our garden or stalk the birds any more. We thought she would be content to stay in our garden but she was soon going to visit the rest of the Avenue. There was no way we could keep her in. 

It is a strange thing but there are certain times when I really miss her. When I get up in the morning to make a mug of tea for us both to sit in bed and drink, she was waiting at the door having gone out early. Every morning I expect her to be there waiting but my heart sinks when the patio is empty. I have noticed that a robin comes to sit on the wall round the patio now she has not been around for a week almost.

I live in hope that she will turn up though my hope is fading. There has to be a story in there somewhere. 

Going to Church

I am often asked why I give up my Sunday mornings to go to church. I explain about services and worship. Then I refer them to this passage from my novel A Ceremony of Innocence which is about the way a family dispute can escalate out of hand. This is especially true when the dispute is about the fundamental philosophy about how life should be lived. It is between the upper warily mobile brother and his ultra left wing brother.

" Do you still go to church when you are at home? " Karen asked as they climbed the stairs to her bedroom. " I can't recall you going to church while you have been at the university."

" Yes I still go sometimes when I am at home though I think it is more out of loyalty to mum and dad than out of any true conviction," Jim observed. " It is pleasant for us all to go together as a family."

He lent against the bedroom doorframe for a moment lost in thought. "Actually, I suppose it is not only out of loyalty to my parents. There is something about going to church on a Sunday morning that attracts me as well. I can't really explain what I mean to anybody else. Let’s face it. Most of my friends would wince if they heard me talk like this. When I walk through the door of the church after shaking hands with the elder, a sense of peace descends a peace that has nothing to do with the people in the church or with the building. It is something to do with the atmosphere in the room. As the elders and the minister come into the church preceded by one of their number carrying the bible, a feeling of expectation fills the air. It is not the same excitement and expectation which fills a crowd at a football match but a sense of being part of something far more important than mere earthly problems. There is a joy in the hymn singing that does not accompany even the most popular songs. It is as though the congregation is uplifted by their singing and the music, as though they truly believe in the words they are singing. During the prayers, the silence is such that you could hear a pin drop. There is this feeling that all would be well in the world if only everybody would listen to the message. It is strange for an iconoclast like me but during the communion I have felt the presence of somebody else, inside but outside of me so to speak. I know most Christians are sinners during the week and saints on Sunday but they do attempt to follow their creeds. So you see it is not only out of a sense of loyalty to my parents which makes me go to church with them while I am at home."

The novel can be purchased from Amazon as a paperback and Kindle to download. It contains sex scenes.