Second Sunday

Woke up this morning to snow. Not much, but enough. Enough to make the magic.
As I drove to church, a sifting fluttered from the sky.

Yesterday evening, with some trepidation, we went to Laurence's karate club Christmas party. It was a potluck and Kevin, assisted by Laurence, had made chicken wings.
Laurence's Sensei had been very insistent that we should come, and this had made me a tad fearful.
What actually happened, was that we met the very warm family of people that make up Sensei William and Sensei Alice's karate classes, had an amazing meal of food from many lands, and Laurence won an award. Tears were shed.

Alex also made me very proud, she has kicked a habit, conquered another one and is making a commitment that I value. A bit terse I know, but well, she knows and I know and I want her to know that I'm proud of her.

I was reading the article in the Guardian, well, since it's Sunday I suppose it's actually in the Observer, where Gillian Gibbons talks about her ordeal in a prison in Sudan. The farcical nature of the whole thing is in stark contrast to her horrifying experience.

The farce :-
" 'This clerk of the court got this carrier bag and produced this bear with a flourish, like a rabbit out of the hat,' Gibbons recalls. 'He put it down on the table in front of us and it flopped over, and the prosecution [lawyer] sat him up. And then he pointed at this bear in a dead aggressive manner and he said "Is this the bear?" "

The horror :-
"The open-air cell had three grey-tiled walls, a basic squat toilet in a corner and steel bars running across the facade and ceiling. 'I just stood there for three hours, thinking I was going home. It was filthy, there were ants all over the floor and in the corner there were rat droppings. There was a light shining into my yard that attracted all the mosquitoes, so I stood there and got bitten to death."

Evil stalks our planet.
But it is Advent.