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.

The BBCs election web pages have suceeded in making me feel old!  There is every likelihood that the next PM will be younger then me.  Not by a huge amount, evidently Messrs Cameron and Clegg are both 43, but there is something rather discombobulating that the nation will be run by people younger than my little sister!

There doesn't seem to be too much to talk about at the moment, and I am trying not to post merely from habit or (self-imposed) expectation.  It is fine to say nothing if there's nothing to say.

This weekend has been just glorious.  Weather reaching near summer temperatures, windows flung wide and Glaswegians shunning their woollies to dine al fresco in skimpy tops.  At the same time, there is still a little snow on the top of the hills I can see from my window, glinting defiantly in the morning sun.

On Saturday 32 of us shared the West End Christian Walking Club outing to New Lanark.  The unexpected high temperatures, lack of breeze and squelchy mud, calf deep in places, coupled with a slightly longer than usual walk, made it unusually demanding but a great time was had by all.

This photo sent to me by one of our number evidently caused some amusement as it appears I have a person hidden in my back pack...

The Falls of Clyde were in spate, so looked amazing, and we were able to view the peregrine falcons nesting along the route (Operation Peregrine provides a viewing area as well as ensuring the birds are kept safe).  Truly a glorious day out, concluded with good food and a birthday cake for the club's leader.

Sunday dawned equally bright and sunny and I was impressed that anyone came to church when the temptation to spend the day in the sunshine must have been enormous.  I had invited the Sunday School team round for lunch and a meeting, so 11 (eight workers, two children and me) of us sat down in my kitchen to share food.  It was, for me at least, an enjoyable occasion, with plenty of laughter as well as some serious conversation.  A's cranachan (typical recipe here) made with her husband's 12 year old single malt was potent to say the least (I only managed one spoonful) and E's banana bread a delight.  Some of us were introduced to marmite cheese (see the website for mamitealoholics here) which is truly superb, while others discovered root vegetable crisps.  Truly a day of new experiences all round.

The day drew to a close with a gentle, meditative evening service focusing on some of my favourite Easter events - Thomas' and Peter's encounters with Jesus - and a chunk of Matthew 25.  We sang 'Come with me, come wander' (BPW 333) a capella which was stunningly beautiful and there was a picture on our service sheets of a tube 'station' called resurrection (here).  Each of these took me back to other Easters in other places ... singing the hymn accompanied by a saxophone in Manchester, and preaching on 'being a place called resurrection' when I was in Leicestershire (near Dibley is a place called Anstey, evidently a corruption of Anastasis which means resurrection).  It felt a good, nay, glorious, end to my first Easter connecting past and present, sharing a journey into the future and being reminded of my own calling to walk with Christ.  So thank you B for a special moment.

Today is 'off' and includes the inglorious prospect of seeing my new dentist, but the sun is lovely and Glasgow is glowing... another good day in prospect.

Friday morning brings The Baptist Times to my letterbox, not usually the highlight of my week but an important connection point with a view of Baptist life primarily, of not exclusively inside BUGB.  The BT takes a lot of flack; it is always easier to criticise than to offer something ostensibly better - just ask any editor of church magazines!  I would have to say that on the whole the BT is a far more interesting read nowadays than when I first subscribed back on the mid 1990s (indeed, in those days a work colleague and I used to compare frustrations with it regularly!!).

This week's edition struck me as worthy of praise, not damning faint stuff, but genuine appreciation for what is being attempted.

There is a centrefold article with input from Christian groups within the three largest UK parties (pace Wales and Scotand) which will find its way to one of our noticeboards ahead of the upcoming hustings.  (If any equivalents in SNP or others want to send me their words I can add them too).  There are some provocative, but not aggressive or defensive, letters on extreme politics, women in leadership and the relationship of each to freedom of conscience (there are aslo one or two more typical letters).  There are some good book reviews - including a helpful and balanced one on Pullman's new novel (well, I basically agree with it, so it must be OK ;-) ).

I think what I like about the BT these days is that it is less diffident, less defensive, less narrow-shallow, less holy-huddle than it was when I first read it.  To be fair, these comments apply to me too, though whether because I'm older and better informed or because the whole world has changed who can definitively determine?

My only gripe (and it's not a major one) is that there are, nowadays, bribes, I mean gifts, offered to new subscribers, whereas those of us who have loyally supported Beattie during her own journey into the present don't get so much as pencil (in the early days of my subscription you got an annual gift of a BT notebook!!).  Do I really want gifts?  No, of course not, I am just a little sad that it is deemed necessary and even appropriate to offer inducements to new readers.

Anyway, well done all at BT for this excellent edition.