a happy holiday

Unbroken blue skies for the whole week - what an amazing gift from God!

Spent time in and around Harlech, Porthmadoc, Beddgelert, Borth Y Gest, Portmeirion and Llanbedr (where my Dad worked during the 70's).

Here's our snaps....

the shame of sin

We read Graham Greene's The Power and The Glory for 'A' level English Literature. I just picked it up again today at the library, in readiness for a week's holiday. Skimming through it briefly, this passage caught my eye and made me glad for the opportunity to re-read this book about the compromised whiskey priest and the calloused lietenant. Greene's sense of the struggle that sin is was acute.

He lifted little pink eyes like those of a pig conscious of the slaughter-room. A high child's voice said, 'Jose.' He stared in a bewildered way around the patio. At a barred window opposite three children watched him with deep gravity. He turned his back and took a step or two towards his door, moving very slowly because of his bulk. 'Jose,' somebody squeaked again. 'Jose.' He looked back over his shoulder and caught the faces out in expressions of wild glee; his little pink eyes showed no anger - he had no right to be angry: he moved his mouth into a ragged, baffled, disintegrated smile, and as if that sign of weakness gave them all the licence they needed, they squealed back at him without disguise, 'Jose, Jose. Come to bed, Jose.' Their little shameless voices filled the patio, and he smiled humbly and sketched small gestures for silence, and there was no respect anywhere left for him in his home, in the town, in the whole abandoned star.