This morning was an early start necessitating two car trips to church to deliver the boxes of books, bric-a-brac, and so forth for the church Spring Fayre.  Even with the benefits of a lift at home, the energy expended in moving the boxes from a legal parking space (the parking wardens were out at 7:30) justified, in my opinion, a trip to the independent coffee house for a take out skinny-skinny latte and 'quelquechose a manger.'  Checking out what was on offer I saw something called a 'tournade au choclat' - basically a twist of puff pastry with chocolate chips and gloopy stuff down the middle (tastes way better than it sounds).  The man repeating my order back to me said 'a tournade or chocolate - or "one of them chocolate twist thingies" as some people say'.  Indeed.

Last night was spent baking cookies on behalf of Millie Mole.  It is quite problematic sharing your life with a fur fabric creature as suddenly they start to dictate your actions (I think there is a nice place for people so affected where the staff wear white coats and the doors are incredibly tricky to open from the inside...).  Anyway, Millie Mole's Cookies are now made and almost ready to go on sale.  Plagiarism?  Nah.  Not much.

Hopefully lots of people will come along tomorrow to buy all the stuff we have on offer, both raising some money for the (re-)development fund and allowing us to get to know our neighbours better.   Meantime I better do something a little more overtly ministerial than talking about food.

Having just Googled this term, I feel old!  I realise I have known this spoof almost since its inception as it spread rapidly through the nuclear industry (that is to say, the spoof spread, the element was already present in abundance!) and was displayed on almost every noticeboard.  Of late it seems that I have been affected by its presence in copious quantities not in church but in life in general - just how many address change letters does one need to write to just how many organisations, how many confirmatory emails, how many phone calls to correct the assorted foul ups?  Anyway, Ruth, if you are reading, this constitutes excuse No 38572351 (or some such) as to why research has not been happening.  I *think* I've now just about excised all the pockets of this pernicious substance for the time-being but it does reappear very readily.

Enjoy:

This bit of humor was written in April 1988 and appeared in the January 1989 issue of The Physics Teacher. William DeBuvitz is a physics professor at Middlesex County College in Edison, New Jersey (USA). He retired in June of 2000.

The heaviest element known to science was recently discovered by investigators at a major U.S. research university. The element, tentatively named administratium, has no protons or electrons and thus has an atomic number of 0. However, it does have one neutron, 125 assistant neutrons, 75 vice neutrons and 111 assistant vice neutrons, which gives it an atomic mass of 312. These 312 particles are held together by a force that involves the continuous exchange of meson-like particles called morons.

Since it has no electrons, administratium is inert. However, it can be detected chemically as it impedes every reaction it comes in contact with. According to the discoverers, a minute amount of administratium causes one reaction to take over four days to complete when it would have normally occurred in less than a second.

Administratium has a normal half-life of approximately three years, at which time it does not decay, but instead undergoes a reorganization in which assistant neutrons, vice neutrons and assistant vice neutrons exchange places. Some studies have shown that the atomic mass actually increases after each reorganization.

Research at other laboratories indicates that administratium occurs naturally in the atmosphere. It tends to concentrate at certain points such as government agencies, large corporations, and universities. It can usually be found in the newest, best appointed, and best maintained buildings.

Scientists point out that administratium is known to be toxic at any level of concentration and can easily destroy any productive reaction where it is allowed to accumulate. Attempts are being made to determine how administratium can be controlled to prevent irreversible damage, but results to date are not promising.

Not the BUGB leaflets of this name per se, but they have drifted into my attention as I prepare various things at the moment.

This morning I visted the headquarters/head office of the BUS to have coffee the Ministry Adviser and, so it turned out, the entire staff - new General Director, head of mission, etc etc.  Now that would not, and could not, happen in BUGB, far too big an organisation and me far too small a minnow.  It was a good morning and it felt good to talk to these folk who clearly love their union (even if all the Revds amongst them trained in England (discuss)).  The coffee was hot, the biscuits crisp and the welcome warm... exactly what you'd hope for.

Next Wednesday I am in Paisley contributing as a 'teacher' of sorts to the Baptist College's module on Leadership.  This is where the BUGB leaflets may come in as they have some useful starting points for thinking about this, and other, topics.  I am meant to share something of my experience as a leader in (my careful choice of word there) a local church so that will be entertaining, not least selecting suitable images to accompany what I say.

In between times I am preaching this Sunday on Baptism and the next on Membership.  These won't be either theological treatises on the topics or veiled altar calls (though requests for Baptism or Membership would be brilliant news) but will hopefully help each of us to reflect a fresh on what it means for us to be part of a Baptist expression of Christianity.  For example, the Baptism service will, as one of four reflections, draw us to Galatians 3 and the radical community that is the 'Body of Christ', keeping as ever a kind of missional edge to my waffling.

So, basically a very Baptisty time - to be followed very quickly by the supreme immersion in all things BUGB-BMS as I join a couple of thousand others in Plymouth where those being hand-shaked this time include my friends Kez, Andy, Simon and Vanessa and a newly discovered colleague in BUS, Theo, who gets his BUGB handshake after he transferred to BUS (only in Baptist land...).  All good fun.

Yesterday I was struck by the delicate and fragile beauty of the white blossom on the trees at church - three columns of loveliness heralding spring.  This morning I was woken by the dawn chorus singing out their little bird hearts in praise of the light (or to impress the girls) and a glance from my kitchen window revealed both the vibrant pinkness of newly opened cherry blossom and the aptly named spring-green of new leaves on city trees; soon the roof tops will be masked by a sea of luxuriant greenness.  Meanwhile, on my landing my azalea has blossomed early and is a cloud of pink flowers.  All of which means I rediscover the joy of adjectives and metaphors as spring reaches the city.  Alas the weather forecast for next week is grim, so the delight may be short-lived, but for now I'll just enjoy it.

There seems to have been an Easter rush of people either migrating their blogs to new platforms or deciding that it is time to 'draw stumps' or 'extinguish tealights' on their virtual worlds.  As a result my sidebar listing has been updated a bit, though unless you use it often you maybe won't notice what's changed.

I have also discovered that Scottish Power takes far too seriously the implications of Matthew 6:3 as we are now on their third attempt to sort out my fuel supplies.  Fortunately their staff are very friendly and concur that it is all very muddled up... in the meantime I try not to waste too much of earth's resources.

People have commented to me that NHS health-care in Scotland is cheaper (at point of delivery) than in England... well I'm not so sure having just been given a quote by my new dentist (nice man, shame about the gag-inducing X-ray equipment) for a few minor repairs.  The Scottish payment system is certainly more detailed, being piece-rate rather than banded, but will actually cost me about £20 more than the same treatment in England.  So, my conclusion is that the costs are actually about the same, just distributed differently, and on this occasion I lose out slightly.  I'm sure it'll all work out in the end.

Anyway, after a week of doing very little, it is good to be back to work, good to catch up on those weird jobs all ministers end up doing for which no college course can ever provide preparation, and good to know that in the good old UK we have so much by way of good infrastructure that we have the audacity to moan about it when any tiny glitch happens.