Marion our curate co-ordinates our efforts to comply with the Eco-Church scheme. As today was the day of global climate strikes she put up a poster pointing out our solidarity with the strikers.
Marion: My son said it was pathetic and we should do much more than that.
Me: And is he striking from school?
Marion: Ah no. He had laryngitis this week so he felt he'd used up his strike allowance.
Me: It's such a moral conundrum.
I did go to London to join my friend Ms Trollsmiter at her placard vigil on a traffic island outside Liverpool Street Station. She had a friend today, but is usually on her own and I thought today of all days she could do with a bit of support, especially as her efforts to mobilise local faith communities to turn out had run into the sand. I decided to go in my cassock and cape, to be extra visible, though it did occur to me far too late that perhaps I should have asked the Vicar of Shoreditch - or would it be Spitalfields - to pardon the incursion into their parish. I am usually a bit trepidatious at wearing full gear out and about but I needn't worry. Nobody bothers someone dressed as stupidly as that.
I was back in Swanvale Halt in time to throw a group of underage drinkers out of the churchyard. Verger Rick and Rob who helps him out managed to located both the compost bin lids which they'd been using as frisbees. I returned later in the evening to have a swift cycle around and found nothing happening; the police who came cruising along the street had also found everywhere between Swanvale Halt and Hornington dead quiet, so where the youngsters had all gone we weren't sure. Their absence didn't stop the stench of weed drifting across the centre of the village periodically as I rode back home. Apparently it's now so ubiquitous that it doesn't require the presence of actual human beings.
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