les Davey de France

Well Gwilym wanted a sort of modified flat-top cut. That I needed to work out myself, but the clippers on the back and sides, then the thinning shears are very forgiving. Catrin wanted a pixie cut, which meant taking LOTS of length out of her hair. For that I needed help, so I watched a Youtube video by the salon guy and then cut with the straight shears, using scissor over comb to remove unevenness, a few moments of fervent arrow-prayers and then light use of thinning shears to give a more natural feathering to the back and sides. She looks very pretty. I feel very thankful. Meanwhile the doctor came and recommended massage, ibuprofen, stretching etc.

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is inflamed again, not in the same place, slightly higher up, but with the same consequences - spasms, intense pain, stiffness, immobility. The evening service was to be held here with a meal afterwards. To be honest, most people are away visiting folk or travelling - so we cancelled. We had a nasty moment with a pain-killer called tramadol - after the second dose Pat became faint and ended up on the floor on her knees. She didn't take a third dose. The doctor will call later this morning or early afternoon.

Here is a link to lots of free books in kindle format. Of course, Project Gutenberg is a huge source of useful texts.

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The issue of homelessness is always to the forefront here. Here are some of the various ways it has manifested itself recently. Firstly the restaurant where we meet on Sundays is regularly visited by a homeless chap who is quite well known on the streets of Bordeaux. He looks and dresses like Albert Finney's Fagin, like an old-fashioned tramp, really, draped in layers of roughly cut blanket-waiscoats. He comes to the restaurant and from outside the door pops something through and hooks it by the door. The idea is that we accept what he gives and give him something in return, perhaps an ash-tray or a spoon - ideally some money. He once gave us a whole brioche that I assume someone else had given to him. Secondly, I know a chap who is a beggar by profession. He speaks of the people who give to him as his clients, and he knows their habits and he makes sure he's at his post, outside a certain shop, when they will be passing. He lives in a hostel and also has certain allowances

Alan plans to visit the UK in April. Here's the dates and the churches that are on the list so far: April 1, Wed - Borras, Wrexham April 5, Sun - Saint Mellons, Cardiff April 7, Tue - Ebenezer, Swansea April 8, Wed - Bay Church, Cardiff April 12, Sun - Ebenezer, Cwmbran and Upton, Chester April 13 - 16 Banner of Truth Conference April 19, Sun - Freshbrook, Swindon

In retrospect we should have had a go. It would have ended up very funny indeed. Instead we done "Ark the 'erald".

This has for some time been my favourite French expression. I usually reply, 'Très bien, dis-moi une chose." And usually people start laughing.

perhaps the most life-changing has been porage with water. Add a little honey, or a mashed banana. It's great.

are not as big for us here since a good number of our folk are students so they travel home for Christmas. But we had a good Christmas evening on Friday with two new faces - neither of them students - and this evening is Carols at Dan. Lots of our usuals have left to be with their families for the holidays, but we'll see who we get! We will probably have some newcomers and we may have some of our old friends visiting Bordeaux again. We have great songs lined up and a great message to celebrate!

So far so good. Positive things: Apparently they don't look ridiculous. They feel quite comfortable. Distance vision is amazingly better. Just amazing! I can see so much more clearly! If I wiggle my ears I can make them pulsate on my face. Less positive things: I look like my sister. My elder sister. Ten years older than me. They're zoned, so for distance you look through the top of the lens, for a computer screen through the middle, and for the keyboard or a book through the bottom. It means you tilt your head more than before. Sideways glances don't really work. You have to turn your head. I'll get used to them. And for the moment if I don't put them on it isn't a disaster - I can still see, though not as well. So I have time to get used to them gradually.

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and I am going to be moving my head a lot more in future!

Here's a video on what it's like to be colour-blind. My experience and description would be similar. I can see colours, but I see them differently from other people and without the nuances that others have. Two examples : Red. I see bright red fine, but for me it isn't a bright colour. It's got about the same brightness or force as brown. So that means that in the UK I can't find post-offices or post-boxes, because the colour just doesn't stand out. A friend once asked me what kind of tree that was with all the red berries. I said "which tree? do you mean the rowan?" I couldn't see the berries, but I knew the tree by the leaves. Once I got close enough to see the shape of the berries I could see the colour well enough, but it just didn't stand out against the green. Nuances. It is not wise to ask me to buy bananas because they go from one degree of yellow to another as they ripen. I can't tell the green of an unripe banana from yellow

(To be clear, I mean the novel I read in 2014 that I liked the most.) Again I've had to joy and privilege of reading some very acclaimed books in 2014, among them: Blindness, José Saramago Hopscotch, Julio Cortazar Dear Life, Alice Munro The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie, Muriel Sparke Life after Life, Kate Atkinson Quartet in Autumn, Barbara Pym The Royal Game, Stefan Zweig Home, Toni Morrison The Shock of the Fall, Nathan Filer The Buddha in the Attic, Julie Otsuka. I read this last book in the bus. I read it in the tram. I read it while waiting for an eye-test. I was reading it when a friend arrived to meet me ( What are you reading? ) But the book that made an impact on me and gave me a new author was A Soldier of the Great War, by Mark Helprin. I like his prose. It's like water-colour. Transparent, clear, light and yet somehow very graphic.

This would have to be Tim Keller's "Prodigal God". In 2014 I've been very privileged to be able to read some excellent Christian books, as well as some that were not so good and one, I think, that was frankly dreadful. Why choose Prodigal God as my favourite? It's not just because Tim Keller lives in New York, likes jazz and is one of the Gospel Coalition Leaders. (I didn't like his book on Judges very much) It's because, just when you thought it would be impossible to say something new and fresh on the parable of the prodigal son, Keller arrives with a view so full of grace and Christ and the gospel that it became immediately my favourite book to give to any Christian who hasn't read it, especially if they might not have quite grasped the gospel. And it did me good. And I think that each time I read it with someone it will do me more good. It's that good.

Almost every day for two or three months I have asked on Amazon.fr for Michael Reeves' "Christ our Life" to be made available in kindle format. One day they will do it. They will. If I persevere and do not give up.

Pat and I had our first session of colour therapy yesterday in Desigual. Ten minutes staring at the reds, blues, yellows and oranges really helps when all the world has gone gray.

A couple of folks have asked questions about our hope to move house so I thought it would be a good idea to make things as clear as possible in a blog post. We hope to move house some time in 2015. The timing is important for two reasons: 1) At Easter the tram arrives about 400 yards from our house. Our house will immediately become a very attractive option for getting to the city centre by tram and bus and to the airport and all points south and west by motorway. We might get a better price. We might sell more easily. 2) Catrin exams will finish in June. We really don't want to have a house move before she finished her exams! Why think of a house move? Well there are three reasons. They're in order of importance: a. to no longer have a mortgage. We hope to find a flat that we can buy outright. This is the main purpose of a move. We've now almost completed ten years in France on the same allowances, and we don't expect them to change any time in the future.

1) Must one see other people as an obstacle? 2) Explain this text from Descartes, which essentially says if you can't have what you want, then learn to want what you have.

The government has redrawn the map of the regions of France, reducing the number of regions to 13. One change affects us directly. Before we were Aquitaine, and we comprised five departments: the Gironde, the Dordogne, the Lot et Garonne, the Landes and the Pyrenees-Atlantiques. Now we have been merged with the Limousin and with Poitou-Charente. Aquitaine had a historical logic to its name, going back to the Roman Aquitania . But to name regions which are composed of smaller entities there are two possibilities. The first is to hyphenate abbreviations of the name - as in Poitou-Charentes. The second is to use initials, as in PACA ( P rovence- A lpes- C ote-d' A zur). Readers of our regional newspaper were invited to suggest names for our new, larger region. I thought Aquipoichamousin sounded good for the South-West of France. The cheekiest suggestion was APOIL - A quitaine- Poi tou- L imousin. "A poil" means starkers. Another cheeky one was CLAP - C harente

We were put in touch some months ago with a lady who is suffering from cancer, who lives in the Dordogne and who comes to Bordeaux for chemotherapy. When she comes down to Bordeaux she tells us what room she is in and we pop in to see her - either myself, Patricia or both of us. She's a lady with a strong and well-taught faith and a husband who isn't a Christian. It's a great privilege to accompany her, to talk through her concerns, to share a Bible perspective with her, to pray with her and to get to know her husband a little, too. It's not something you can blog about much, but I thought I'd mention it as part of our work here.

The guy in the tram and bus office said, "But last year you renewed online?" "Yes", quoth I, "but last year you emailed me to say my season ticket was running out. This year the bus told me on Sunday that my ticket was out of date. And it's too late to renew online." "Yes. That's odd." "I thought so, too." "Oh, and you're subscribed to the bikes - but that doesn't run out till February. It was January, but you put your bike back in a winning slot and won an extra month. Oh, and to Citiz. Have you heard from them?" "No." (thinks - must check with Citiz when my renewal is due. The lady in the insurance office said, "Do you have any proof?" "Proof of what, my identity?" "No, proof that your son has left the country. His ticket, for example." I thought... What proof do I have the Gwilym is now living in the UK... "His address, perhaps? A justificatif de domici

the varifocals are ordered and should be ready before Christmas. Meanwhile we can change our health insurance for next year to remove Gwilym, since he is now in the tender hands of the NHS. And my bus pass stopped working at the weekend. Strange. I searched my emails to look for a reminder to renew my season ticket and found one dates 28 November - 2013! They must have decided not to remind me this year. So I have some lovely admin to do tomorrow. Hurrah.

Varifocal glasses. OK, I'll get some glasses. Our health insurance suggested a firm of online opticians so I might give them a try. The long and crazy day went OK. Mostly as planned, except : My lunch-date was an hour late, so I got to spend more time with James and his august calvinistic baptist pastor from London. (I know I should put commas between those adjectives, but I don't want to) My shoes cost 5€. I'd taken the cheque book but I had not looked to see whether there were cheques left in it. There weren't. I dug deep in my pocket. Would you believe that I had 5.01€! Amazing. And my shoes are on my feet even as I type. Catrin's singing teacher was late, which mean that she couldn't go to her Music Bac class, which meant I cancelled the reservation for the car. I'm off to talk to these opticians.

It had been ages since we used a Citiz (Autocool as was) car, so I stopped carrying the card. Ha! So this month I've used Citiz a lot, and very happily, too. Yesterday was a good example. Firstly the CNEF pastors' meeting at Eysines. You have to go there by car, and no car was available at pessac, so I hied me away to Mérignac to find a jolly nice Clio and got to Eysines in good time. The pastors' meeting was wonderful and disconcerting. It's a gospel centered group, so sometimes I have the wild urge to pray loudly in Welsh. Just to see. Anyway. But the folks are fine and there was a fine young baptist guy from the right bank present. The afternoon was spent with our neighbours coaching in English. Very good fun, and I got to play with their toddler, too, and watch a short excerpt of Peppa Cochon. In the evening Catrin had her annual dinner-dance with her class at lycée, so we drove Pessac Peugeot by a wonderfully direct route through the city centre stree

Hey. Yesterday I didn't wear glasses, and friends would read notices off the wall for me. Today you're suggesting I get varifocals. Yes, well. You hadn't had your eyes tested yesterday, had you? So are my eyes going to change quickly? OH YES! (The ophthalmologists enthusiastic answer unnerved me somewhat) Well, you have ten years of changing your glasses every year ahead of you. Well it's a huge waste to spend LOTS of money on varifocals every year if just long-distance vision glasses would do the trick. OK. What's your profession? I'm a protestant pastor. Right. Well, let me fit these lenses in the holders. Now look at the letters in the distance. Clear? Oh yes! And the letters on the card in your hand? No problem. Now I'll do this. Try the card in your hand. Hopeless. Now the letters in the distance? Great. Ok, now unaided. The card in your hand? Fine The distance? Hopeless. So with varifocals you can see your book AND your

Bonjour, notre service a réceptionné votre dossier cette semaine, merci de nous contacter au 03.......31 entre 9h et 18h.. Réf 23.......41 That was what the SMS said. I looked up the phone number on the internet. Sometimes these things are just scams. This was a debt collection service. Do I have any bills unpaid? No. Could I have forgotten something? Well, anything is possible, I suppose. I found the company's website. You could log in and get details of the problem using the first four letters of your name and the dossier number. Except it rejected my name. Aha! I found a direct phone number and called it. At the third attempt I got through. Alors, le numéro de dossier? D'accord. Et vous et M. Machin-bidule, James? No. Ah bon, votre numéro de portable qui a reçu le SMS? Ah bon, dans ce cas-là c'est un erreur. Excusez-nous de vous déranger. Phew... I have just a little suspicion that because my phone number is on the Bordeaux Church card, that I might

For some time I have thought it would be a good idea to get my eyes tested. I can't see things at a distance as I could, and recently with a friend in MacDonalds I had to ask them to read the menu that was displayed behind the counter. In France you need to make an appointment with an ophthalmologist. All he does is examine your eyes and then give you a prescription for glasses or lenses and/or refer you to a doctor if he discovers some other problem. To get your glasses you then go to an optician, and all they do is sell glasses. There's an ophthalmologist near our home, but they aren't taking on new clients. There's an ophthalmologist further into Pessac, but they have a three-month waiting list. There's an eyesight centre at the Clinique Mutuelle near the campus, but they're awkward to get to. So I hesitated. Dithered. Then yesterday our health insurance people sent us an email saying that we could get an appointment for an eyesight check-up withi

I spotted these tweets from Justin Taylor on twitter and wanted to share them for reflection, but not to retweet them raw, as it were... BetweenTwoWorlds  ‏ @ between2worlds     2h 2 hours ago Only 3% of those at Billy Graham crusades went forward for the altar call. Evangelism is hard, even for the world's most gifted evangelist. BetweenTwoWorlds  ‏ @ between2worlds     1h 1 hour ago And roughly 1/4 to 1/2 of those going forward at Graham crusades were making first-time commitments. BetweenTwoWorlds  ‏ @ between2worlds     1h 1 hour ago Graham himself estimated that only 1/4 of inquiries at his crusades would persevere.

I don't review every book I read, but I wanted to review this book because it is such a GREAT book. I read about it on the Gospel Coalition website and the description there encouraged me to buy it and read it. Essentially it's the story of a walk from the outskirts of Rome to a village outside the city, where an old man accompanies a young man and recounts his experiences in the Great War. The prose is just wonderful. Simple, evocative, pure, beautiful. The story is heart-rending and healing all in one. Terrible events are depicted with a simplicity and a beauty that somehow doesn't clash. Desperate suffering and grief live alongside heroic courage and faith. Friendship, love, loyalty and justice. Some parts make you want to weep. Some parts make you laugh out loud. You need to know that there's not much of life that isn't depicted. Adult subjects are discussed. Terrible cruelty, savagery and barbarity. I suppose the book could have omitted these aspects of

One of the pleasures of Facebook is to see people going through the joys and challenges of the different stages of life. For example, a friend who is a new mother just put on a cartoon of herself breaking rocks, with the caption, "it's been a long, hard night and today will be a long, hard day". I don't remember it very well, but I do know that there was a time when one of our children was young when they were not sleeping through the night. Pat was able to nap during the day and apply herself to sorting out their sleep pattern, but I had a busy work pattern to maintain. So I slept on the sofa downstairs until things calmed down. In the midst of that maelstrom I don't know if it would have helped to know that one day I would have trouble remembering it. It seemed like a huge, insurmountable problem. Now it's a vague memory that Pat reminds me of.

I've had it with glottal stops. I find it hard to believe now that there was a time when I couldn't do them at all. When I first went to work in Hemel Hempstead, near London, a time I refer to as my Babylonian Captivity, I couldn't say Sn'Awbuns, 'EmwEmshted and Liw'n like the locals did. I had to learn how to pronounce things like that. Now I listen to myself speaking and what do I hear? Glo'l stops a' the end of words tha' OUGH' to finish with a good "t". No more. I am going to eradicate these global stops. Why? We recently listened to one of the current evangelical songsmiths singing a song about how great God is. And there can be no mistake. We listened carefully several times, and the dear fellow is clearly singing "How grey is our God, how grey is our God." OK. Enough! I will do whatever it takes to wipe these dreadful things from my speech.