![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
"So," I said to the Universe (Universe? Multiverse? It's both, innit?) "I'm willing to participate more in society, but please can you suggest some openings to me?"
And the Universe mulled things over for a while and said. "You should try the Society of Friends. After all, you are descended from a long line of Quaker aristocrats. You keep bragging about it; so how about making the connection?"
"Thank you, Universe. You're a brick."
I did some research and found the nearest Meeting House is within walking distance. Just off Memorial Place and within a spit of The Devonshire Park Tennis facility.
I walked it yesterday morning to see how long it would take.
It took exactly half an hour.
The Meeting Room was closed but I was expecting it to be. It'll be open at 10.30 on Sunday for whatever the Quakers call their services. On the road outside the building I found a bright, shiny five pence piece- a rare find these days when few people carry cash. I took it as a little token of approval from the Universe. "Well done, you, for acting so promptly."
I walked back by the scenic route, along the coast, dropping in at the Crown and Anchor for a half of Harvey's. It was a very hot day.
I got home, sat down in my chair at the kitchen table and there at my feet was another bright, shiny five pence piece. It had absolutely no business being there, so it had to be an apport- and the Universe's way of saying, "Just so you know that that earlier token was no accident."
And the Universe mulled things over for a while and said. "You should try the Society of Friends. After all, you are descended from a long line of Quaker aristocrats. You keep bragging about it; so how about making the connection?"
"Thank you, Universe. You're a brick."
I did some research and found the nearest Meeting House is within walking distance. Just off Memorial Place and within a spit of The Devonshire Park Tennis facility.
I walked it yesterday morning to see how long it would take.
It took exactly half an hour.
The Meeting Room was closed but I was expecting it to be. It'll be open at 10.30 on Sunday for whatever the Quakers call their services. On the road outside the building I found a bright, shiny five pence piece- a rare find these days when few people carry cash. I took it as a little token of approval from the Universe. "Well done, you, for acting so promptly."
I walked back by the scenic route, along the coast, dropping in at the Crown and Anchor for a half of Harvey's. It was a very hot day.
I got home, sat down in my chair at the kitchen table and there at my feet was another bright, shiny five pence piece. It had absolutely no business being there, so it had to be an apport- and the Universe's way of saying, "Just so you know that that earlier token was no accident."
