Better Than Feared

The world looked less than inviting through the window of the café opposite the church this morning: drizzly and chilly, with worse threatened for later in the morning. It was one of those days when there is a coffee morning at the church and as well as my parish coffee over the road I feel it would be rude not to pop back for tea and, this morning, inevitably a mince pie, with such of the congregation as may be present. I'd waited weeks and weeks for Rightmove to update the information on properties in the area that have changed hands: the last update was in September, but now it had, I was faced with inclement conditions for visiting. Would anyone welcome me arriving unexpectedly on their doorstep? Still, I didn't want the backlog to build up. I steeled myself to head out. The weather, in fact, didn't look too bad.

As often happens, my reluctance to set about this self-imposed task is balanced by the pleasure of how it turns out. Today I met an older couple who've moved into the village and already attend an Anglican church in Guildford of moderate churchmanship, so I can't complain too much about that; a vicar's daughter who asked about our Christmas services; a completely bemused young woman; a recently divorced lady whose doorstep I arrived at hard on the heels of an Amazon delivery fellow who rang her bell and ran away leaving me to hand over the parcel; and a former member of the congregation who I haven't spoken to for ages, and who drifted away after their own marriage broke down, and now has a new home with a new partner. Of their daughters (both former Junior Church members when we had such a thing) the elder is now a teaching assistant at a special needs school, while the younger is studying Fine Art at university. Next door to them is a house I visited on my last 'rounds', and found another family I already knew and whose children used to be Messy Church regulars.

Wasn't that worth doing? I think so, and it barely rained at all. 

(The photo is from my day-off walk around Frensham Little Pond, excitingly bleak!)