Adieu London, Hello North Atlantic

Our short week in London has come to an end. As many times as I've been to London over the years, there is never enough time. How true it is that a 'man who is bored with London is bored with life.' In this recent trip, I had many recollections of my first trip here in 1965. There were still many signs of WWII and in the City there were still bombed out areas to be seen. It was hard to think that this was one of the countries that 'won' the war.

me at the Vauxhall Bridge

We stayed in a B&B that was 1pound per night, and followed our England on $5. a Day book religiously. Yesterday, as I took time to have a long walk...down to Pimlico, along the Thames and to the Tate, I thought how many people were about and how many places were open. In 65, London truly shut down on a Sunday and it was darn hard to find somewhere to eat. If you missed the pub hours, you were out of luck.

Soon it will be time to walk over to Victoria Coach Station and check in with Cunard. Again, in 1965, we - me, my mother and my fiance - had a devil of a time finding the COACH station and the exact bus we were to take to Stratford. We managed but we also worried a lot in getting to the coach!

Himself at Covent Garden

What 2010 Could Be

A 17th Century Nun's Prayer

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself, that I am growing older and will someday be old.

Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.

Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches and pains.

They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by.

I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others' pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessing cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint - some of them are so hard to live with - but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil.

Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people.

And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.

AMEN

prayer originally found here