I've already posted about my "farewell" to Northampton and the moment the finality of it hit me as the train pulled out of the railway station, southbound, to Milton keynes: the irony of cheap tickets to go north!

I think part of the significance of the moment was that so many significant events in, and stages of, my life began with train journeys from this station, on a small branch line in the English Midlands.

My earliest conscious memory, was a family trip to London, which must have been in the late 1960s.  I recall the collection thing for St Christopher's Railway Orphanage, and a little courtyard garden where, much later a cafe would be found.  It was exciting, this trip! I recall wanting to see Piccadilly Circus because I was sure there would be clowns and trapeze artists!  I remember on that, or maybe another, trip going to London Zoo where my two youngest siblings rode round in a bright yellow, hired pushchair, and among other animals we saw Chi Chi the panda.  Buckingham Palace, Downing Street, The Embankment, Horseguards, Kensington Gardens... these and many more we visited by train.

I remember a school trip to the Natural History and Science Museums with our teachers herding thirty-odd nine and ten year olds on and off the trains, via the underground to South Kensington and back again on a hot summer's day.  And another trip, the first year I was at secondary school, to Boulogne which involved two lots of trains, and crossing London by tube.

There were a couple of trips to Glasgow to visit grandparents - change at Rugby, change at Crew - and the hope that it would be a "corridor" train where we could claim a whole six seat compartment to ourselves...

Teen years, and here I departed with a friend, as part of an "initiative test" for the Girls' Brigade Queen's Award, that required us to travel unaccompanied to London - easier for us than for many I suspect.  And over the next couple of years would be a similar trip for a Duke of Edinburgh's Award course in Bexhill on Sea.  University interviews in Birmingham, Manchester and London all required me to travel from here (and memorably, the return journey from Manchester saw me get on the wrong train and create my own diversionary route via Stoke on Trent!).

Whilst once or twice taking coaches because the trains weren't running due to snow, from here I travelled to London to study - my official 'leaving home' and later to job interviews in Derby. My bike in the guard's van, and carrying it up the steps to street level to cut off a corner!

Although most of my adult life I've owned cars and driven, there have still been train journeys to and from Northampton to Warrington, to Manchester and, over the past few years, to Glasgow.

So it was that last Friday I boarded the 18:05 London Midland service to London Euston, calling at Milton Keynes to begin the homeward journey from what I feel is the time I left Northampton with absolutely no need to return.  The green and white train, with automatic doors and recorded messages - a far cry from the blue, British Rail commuter trains (one door between every pair of seats) I recalled from childhood. The collection thing from St Christopher's Railway orphange is long gone, even the station as I once knew it has been closed and (virtually) demolished to be replaced by a snazzy new glass-fronted thing with WH Smith and Starbucks (Coffee Republic has already failed and closed) rather than Pumpkin (the successor to Traveller's Fare)... Times move on and things change.  At least for now the paper tickets are still orange and cream, and the red double arrow sign still indicates a railway station.

But the adventures and significant moments are mine to treasure... and for me, at least, Northampton (Castle) Station (Mr Beeching having closed others long before my time) remains a significant landmark from which many adventures began and many memories were created.

The photo was taken from the train standing at Platform 1, looking towards Platform 2, and I find it somehow appropriate that a young man, engrossed in his phone is waiting to begin a journey of his own... I may never pass that way again, but the station will continue to carry new people on new adventures for a long time yet.

This week I really did have the final visit to Northampton - not that I can never return, obviously I am free to do so any time, but it really was the last time it had any direct family link with my childhood.  And I very consciously chose where I had my lunch or breakfast or tea, becuase each was knowingly a 'last'.

A last pot of tea in BHS cafe was a last in more ways than one, of course, because in a short time it will be no more, and never will be again.  A last trip to what was once the first branch of MacDonalds outside a major city in the UK!  A last coffee in the new Starbucks.  And one last lunch at Debenhams (photo above).

When Jesus knew that the end of his life was nearing, there seems to have been a week of meals at various homes, meals that would become permanently significant for those who were there.  "Do you remember..." they would say in later years, and the stirred memories would evoke something precious that time and distance could not destroy.  The "Last Supper" with it's "whenever you do this, remember me" is one such, in fact it is "The" one such, a meal shared precisely to evoke memories and retell stories of what it is that holds this extended family/community together.  Bread and wine; memory and mystery (and sacrament for those who must); old story, new story and continuing story; then and now and still to come.

As my train drew out of Northampton station, I found myself waving and saying (quietly) "bye, bye"... and then the tears fell.  Not many, I'm not a crying kind of a girl, but in that moment an era ended.  I have another post in mind that arises from that moment, and a photo I took form the window of the train, but for now, it is "final repasts" that occupy my thoughts.

Whenever you do this, remember me:

In broken bread and poured out wine -

Or pots of tea and strawberry flans -

Take a moment to pause

Deliberately call to mind this moment

And what it meant

Live the memory

Re-live the memory

Remember the meaning

Re-member the meaning

Because every time you do

You restore the moment,

Renew the promise

Recreate the meaning

Until the day when all things are made anew in God's Kindgom of Shalom.

I took this photo whilst visiting my Mum in the care home where she seems to be well settled, well cared for and the happiest I have known her in a very, very long time. When I looked at the photo I suddenly forgot all the hassle and heartache of the past few months, this was a moment to savour. Every mile travelled, every penny spent, every phone call, email, text, meeting... All worth it for this one moment.

Jesus once used the analogy of a woman giving birth and how, once she saw her child, she would forget the pain. I think I just about understand that now!

Sorry for extra dodgy typing... I am doing this on my snazzy phone!

This morning was, for me at least, a wonderful experience of church at its relaxed best.

The Sunday School - which is small and most children very young - really excelled, serving an absolutely marvellous spread including fresh fruit, juice, cereal, croissants, cinnamon buns, toast, tea, coffee....  They explained to us why they were holding the event, told us their target was £250 and led us in prayer.  They raised over £400... a marvellous achievement for a fairly small church.

Then we moved into the service, still around our tables.  We shared in a quiz about the history of Christian Aid.  We heard Rowan Williams (on video) explain why it matters to him.  We read some scripture communally.  We were reminded of the Christian Aid values.  We reflected and responded privately in words, drawings or thoughts to what we had read, sung, spoken and heard.  We prayed and took away pieces of woven jute to remind us the women of Bangladesh.  And we shared a very informal communion around small tables, serving each other.

At the end of the service we discovered that including the envelope collection, we had raised around £1200 for Christain Aid, which really is wonderful.

I expect everyone is needing a rest this afternoon - but we had a fantastic morning, and I am very proud of everyone who took part.

The above quiches, decidedly rustic, but I think acceptable, will be served this evening.  Somehow, though, they serve for me as a sort of parable or metaphor or something!

It's no secret that I like to have things well organised, in plenty of time, and that I can get more than a tad ratty if my plans don't work out.

I knew the week ahead was going to be decidedly bonkers, but I had it all worked out, transport booked, cat-sitting sorted, blah blah.

I also knew I had (have) guests coming for tea, and had decided to make a quiche for that purpose.  Cue disasters!  The first attempt at the case went in the oven for blind-baking and came out shrunken and flat.  No problem, I had more pastry, a second attmept was possible - deeper, thicker.... and it too came out less than ideal.  Meanwhile, I had prepped all the ingredients for the filling, so was pretty much committed.  In a moment of "nothing ventured, nothing gained" I filled the cases and baked them - and they don't look too bad.  I made a couple of mini quiches from leftover pastry, and filled them with the cheesy custard mix... they actually tasted pretty good.

In the background I was busy multi-tasking on other things (after all 20 minutes, twice, for blind-baking and 40 minutes for a quiche to cook is plenty of time to use usefully) and watching the plans for the week ahead unravel before my eyes due to factors I could not control.  If only I hadn't been so organised and booked the travel, it would have been quicker to adjust my plans (and probably cheaper, I still have to work out the most cost effective way to change them)... but it'll be alright.  Just like the quiches, the revised plans will be rough around the edges, not as I had imagined them, but they'll work just fine.

Sometimes my perfectionist, organised, even bossy nature gets in the way of imperfect, slightly chaotic, more laid back and perfectly acceptable options.  Whether I'll ever fully learn from that, I don't know.  But for now, I have "servicable" quiches, a house to tidy and clean and guests to enjoy preparing for.  Everything else can wait.