Classical Jaz

This machine is emptied daily and is alarmed

Thu, 15 May 2008 15:05:59 +0100

I wonder if it knows something I don't ...

Thank you

Thu, 8 May 2008 19:00:47 +0100

Thanks, for the concern, and for the prayers ...

This is a challenging time; I'm stumbling, indeed, I've fallen a few times, but I am still on the road ...

Just trying ...

Wed, 7 May 2008 19:55:50 +0100

... to keep moving forward - I don't think that we are out of the bit yet ...

Normal service

Tue, 6 May 2008 14:22:39 +0100

St John's Hospital, to-day, to see the plastic surgeon ...

At the risk of boring you

Mon, 5 May 2008 12:13:24 +0100

Bill Bryson, in "Notes from a Small Island" describes being trapped in a train by someone who knows everything about trains, and attributes this person's demeanor to Asperger's Syndrome, about which Bill Bryson has just listened to a lecture. Suddenly, everything I want to say has to go through a filter. Already, my condition has been referred to angrily by my dear wife.

Yes, I am different. I know now that I'm different, that my difference has a name. And that I've always been different ...

Where, from here

Sat, 3 May 2008 12:59:44 +0100

They call it, I believe, a paradigm shift. Everything is changing.

Forward

Fri, 2 May 2008 18:14:42 +0100

Thank you all for your comments, and prayers ...

Following tractor girl's observation that some things are not best said in the public arena, I'm taking the (for me) unprecedented step of publishing an email address. I shall be more than happy to hear from my readers, and may be able to say more in an email than I can here. So, trying to be just a little obscure, I give you jaz at operamail dot com ...

Diagnosis

Thu, 1 May 2008 13:42:53 +0100

To-day, the doctor put me out of my misery; I have Asperger's ...

For some reason

Sun, 27 Apr 2008 16:03:18 +0100

This has been going round and round in my head:

The sands of time are sinking;
The dawn of heaven breaks;
The summer morn I've sighed for,
The fair, sweet morn, awakes.
Dark, dark, hath been the midnight,
But dayspring is at hand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

O Christ! He is the fountain,
The deep, sweet well of love;
The streams on earth I've tasted
More deep I'll drink above;
There to an ocean fulness
His mercy doth expand,
And glory, glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

With mercy and with judgment
My web of time he wove,
And aye the dews of sorrow
Were lustred by his love;
I'll bless the hand that guided,
I'll bless the heart that planned,
When throned where glory dwelleth
In Immanuel's land.

I've wrestled on towards heaven,
'Gainst storm and wind and tide;
Now, like a weary traveller
That leaneth on his guide,
Amid the shades of evening,
While sinks life's lingering sand,
I hail the glory dawning
In Immanuel's land.

Anne Ross Cousin (can be sung to the tune Rutherford, by Chretien Urhan)

Old fashioned, yes. Of limited application, I guess so. But moving; I'm remembering a lady in Aberdeen who told me that the beginning of the third verse was her testimony ...

Back to the varnishing

Sat, 26 Apr 2008 20:23:35 +0100

Not much you can say about it ... and then to encounter a driver who was, to say the least, inconsiderate - a stretch of road near our house narrows to a single track, and there are traffic lights to control who goes when. My son (8) and I, on bicycles, had a green light, and were cycling through - an oncoming car came through a red light - we dismounted for safety - don't know what to think ...

Our 11 year old daughter is being taught cycling proficiency at school, and was told by a traffic warden that, whatever her parents might say, she should cycle on the road, and not on the pavement ...