Why?

I love the free catalogues that you find tucked inside magazines. It's such fun seeing the stuff that other people buy! But one of them has me stumped. The motorised coin sorter. You throw your coins in the top, and it sorts them out for you, and tells you how much they're worth.

I've just done an experiment—emptied my purse, sorted and counted the contents. The coins add up to £9.33. It took me 19 seconds.

So who spends £30 on a machine to do it for them? And why?

Apparently it's a catalogue bestseller. I can only think that it must be men who need them…

The advent of…

I spotted two Playmobil Advent Calendars in a toyshop window. Great fun. Nicely made. A new figure or object to add to the 3D model each day of Advent.

One of them built Santa's Grotto. Ah well, a secular product, I guess you can't expect too much.

The other built a stable. Ah, that's better - even though a stable isn't actually mentioned in Matthew or Luke (Jesus was probably born in the animal's section of someone's house) - but at least we're in the zone of the biblical account.

Oops. No we're not. Great stable - lots of glowing horses and grooms to take care of them. Stalls for each animal. Plenty of tack. Even riding helmets (a 21st century nativity scene). But… no baby.

I always thought that Advent was about the coming of Christ: looking back to the time when He was born as a human being; looking forward to His return as King over all. But I must have got that wrong. To the delight of little girls everywhere, it's actually the advent of a riding school.

A ritual black tie

I was struck by this recent quote from the historian David Starkey:

Ritual is necessary. You want something to stand between you and the rawness of death. I'm a ritualised athesit; the big moments need marking.

I like the modern approach to funerals that sees them as a celebration of a life; an opportunity to look back fondly and with gratitude. But when it comes to "something to stand between you and the rawness of death", I don't want a ritual - I want a Saviour.