That was quite a weekend. I have only been Acting Archdruid for eight days, but it's so good of the Beaker People to take me to their hearts as they have.
I would be less than honest with you here, if I were to say that all four hours I spent looking at Rordrik's holiday photographs were massively exciting for me. Rordrik has a particular interest in fenland skies, and 700 photographs of what, as far as I could tell, were basically the same sky really did start to wear. Rordrik introduced each shot by saying "doesn't that cry out the wonder of the Hand behind creation?" And it would have been wrong to say no. But I can understand why my predecessor was inclined to walk softly and carry a Slazenger V400.
Then two hours of Burton explaining Double-entry book-keeping. The only way I escaped in the end was to shout "isn't that Archdruid Eileen over there?" and run out while he was hiding under the sofa.
And then the six hours I spent digging a pond with Gabbreau were - well, let's say they were probably good for my overall fitness. Gabbreau herself says she suffers from that terribly debilitating condition, a "bone in the leg", and therefore her assistance mostly consisted of saying "hot, isn't it?" and pouring herself another Pimms.
And in between all that, I have led six services. All the usual suspects who lead services were most insistent that, since I am the new Druid on the block, I should be covering all the acts of worship today. But six? How did we ever get to the point where we needed a "Blended Worship" service, a "Taize", a "Nu-Metal Orthodox", a "Contemplation of Pebbles", a "Messy Terce", and a "Complan Church"?
I am shattered. I like to think that I have exhibited an incarnation ministry - one in which I have been alongside the people I am to care for in their everyday lives. But somewhere at the back of my mind, I have that niggling feeling that I shall not be such a mug next week.