A fifteen-hour day today. Four services including a guest sermon at All Hallows on Simplicity. I quoted Bill Bryson saying the British like their pleasures small:
[The British] are the only people in the world who think of jam and currents as thrilling constituents of a pudding or cake. Offer them something genuinely tempting - a slice of gateau or a choice of chocolates from a box - and they will nearly always hesitate and begin to worry that it's unwarranted and excessive, as if any pleasure beyond a very modest threshold is vaguely unseemly.
'Oh, I mustn't really,' they say.
'Oh, go on,' you prod encouragingly.
'Well, just a small one then,' they say and dartingly take a small one, and then get a look as if they have just done something terribly devilish.
I've no energy left for more brain work tonight. Just enough for one simple pleasure of my own: clicking 'Post and Publish' and putting my feet up for half-an-hour with When Saturday Comes. Excuse me....
john davies
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