Thursday, 9 April 2026

Personal resources in financially challenging times

 Because of how things are rolling at the moment — political ideologies, geo-political tensions, etc — there is a constant undercurrent of uncertainty about food security, energy security and supplies.

When government wants to alter our way of living, the first method is usually to apply financial pressure, mixed in with information pointing us in a particular direction. So I assume we can expect that the cost of living will further increase with a particular squeeze on the more nutritious foods.

This in turn means that we have to adjust downwards to stay solvent.

Since the whole of my life from childhood to the present day has been characterised by having a small disposable income, I thought it might help to share some of the approach I've found useful.

The first thing is to stay out of, or get free of, debt. This is an often overlooked New Testament principle, arising from the teaching of Jesus and of St Paul. The New Testament recognises that freedom is essential in determining, and putting into action, life choices, and recommends believers to protect that freedom by staying free of debt and being cautious about commitments and entanglements. 

After that, the next step is to evaluate one's resources. These broadly fall into three categories — time, energy and money. Most people are not rich in all three, but recognising that they are equally valuable helps in forming a strategy. If an example is useful, think of my mother. She chose to be a stay-at-home mother, and my father's income was low. So we were not money-rich. But she had plenty of energy, and because she stayed home to raise her family, she had not sold her time, she still had it. She used her time and energy to grow our food — vegetables, fruit, hens for eggs, and later sheep as well (obtained cheaply by taking on orphaned lambs and growing them on). This may not apply to you in an urban setting, it's just an instance of identifying which of the 3 resources you have, and putting them to good use.

You may not have a garden as we did in my childhood, but if you have time and energy you can learn about wild food and forage it. In the town where I live, there is enough wild fruit (blackberries, and self-seeded apples or unwanted pears/apples dropped on the ground from people who have trees), and greens (dandelions, nettles, ramsens and tri-cornered leek or whitebells), and mushrooms, that given the time and the energy I could cover my fruit/veg requirements without money. Plus in the summer people put out on their garden walls unwanted produce from their gardens (zucchini/courgettes especially).

People have started fly-tipping a lot, for reasons I won't go into here, but it's allowed me to scavenge a fair few non-food items like furniture and household items. 

So the triad of time, money and energy is important to consider and evaluate how it applies to you.

The next thing is to recognise that relying on capital is dangerous, in that it creates a false sense of security. It goes faster than you think, and then what? So it's important to place an emphasis on income rather than capital — and reduced expenditure is in a sense a form of income, because the less you rely on money the less it matters how much you have of either capital or income, and the freer you become — less subject to coercion by others.

A good use of capital at the present time (in my opinion) is to create a bulwark — so, to clear debts, and then to create some prepper resources like solar panels or a power station (eg a Bluetti or Jackery, like people who live in RVs have) or plant a garden, or get in a sensible (not massive, don't go mad) stock of supplements/meds, toiletries, tinned foods etc, so you are covered for power outages and supply disruptions. 

Then there's another important thing — adjustment of expectations.

We have adjusted up to a very consumerist society, where leisure and making a purchase are almost inextricably linked. Gone are the days when all hospitality required was a pack of cards and the makings of a cup of tea, or a piano in the living room. Going for a walk together is not most people's idea of a jaunt.

As the cost of living rises, it's helpful to adjust down our expectations rather than increasing our debts. This adjustment isn't quick to do, because habits are so ingrained we don't notice we have them. The objective is to ensure that income covers outgoings and leaves something over to set aside for inevitable unforeseen costs.

Our decisions (life choices) develop our habits, and our habits develop our expectations, and our expectations drive our costs.

So to adjust down for reduced circumstances, it's imperative to begin noticing our habits (carefully track and review expenditure), and then interrupt this cycle. 

Here are some of my life choices:

YES to 

  • certain supplements for protecting and repairing my health
  • high quality food
  • food sourced from British farms, bought directly as much as possible to protect national food security from our short-sighted government
  • church collection, Christmas and birthday gifts for my children and grandchildren, support for my Carthusian friends
NO to
  • holidays
  • meals out
  • subscriptions — gym, journals, online Substack etc
SOMETIMES (monthly financial limit) to
  • 2nd-hand clothes from eBay
  • books
  • a coffee in town
  • ticket to a concert where family members are performing
I track all expenditure and we save monthly amounts to cover annual or occasional costs like car servicing, boiler servicing, house insurance, automobile recovery, window-cleaner, etc. I have two separate ledgers, one for my personal expenditure and one for household expenditure. We (me and my husband) put a monthly amount into a household account to cover all outgoings and generate a modest surplus to cover occasional unbudgeted bills as they come up.

So the life choices are made on the basis of how much money is available, on the Mr Micawber principle (see footnote below).

From our life choices our habits develop, so the life choice is our point of intervention/alteration/adjustment. It's normal and human to need some fun, something to cheer us up, something to look forward to.
As consumerism (a life choice) has gradually increased (and become a habit), many of us have developed the expectation/assumption that 'fun' equals 'a purchase'. But it need not. The task is to redefine 'fun'. 

So, if 'fun' means going out somewhere, that can be a walk in the woods or by the sea, or a coffee with a neighbour, or a game of cards or watching a movie on the TV together — rather than a takeaway meal or a cinema trip or a visit to the garden centre (with associated purchases) or a stately home (with entrance fee).

At first, this is hard (and lonely, while others are still taking the money route). The expectations we have developed from our habits mean we reflexively turn to occupations with associated costs. By not joining in with a family meal out this last week, not buying anyone Easter eggs or cards, not going to the garden centre for some plants for the garden, and not renewing my choir membership, I think I have saved at least £150. And that's just one week.
Those were not easy choices and involved some heart-searching and conversation. But it is by making such choices that new habits are formed and affordable expectations developed, keeping one financially safe as costs of living rise.
The choices I made instead, were to visit with different family members with whom I chatted and watched a movie on telly, to just make Easter about going to church not buying chocolate, to get new plants by taking cuttings from friends' established plants, and to sing hymns by myself at home (singing with family round the piano would be even better, and I do request that sometimes but they do have busy lives).

There comes a point where a collapsing economy takes us past what our personal strategies can cover. Even so, if we are used to adjusting down, making choices that develop new habits that shape different expectations, then we will have laid down a track to follow in even the toughest times.

I hope all that may be food for thought, and I'd be most interested to read anyone's related observations in the comments. 
________________________________________________________
FOOTNOTE

The Mr. Micawber principle, from Charles Dickens' David Copperfield, defines financial success as spending slightly less than one's income, and misery as spending slightly more. It highlights that living within your means leads to happiness, while debt leads to misery. The principle emphasises that small financial actions have significant consequences over time. 


Core Components of the Micawber Principle: 

  • The Formula: "Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen pounds nineteen and six [19s 6d], result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure twenty pounds and six [20s 6d], result misery".
  • Significance: It is considered a foundational principle of personal finance, focusing on discipline and managing the gap between income and expenses.
  • Source: Named after Wilkins Micawber, a character known for extreme optimism, who often says "something will turn up". 

Key Takeaways: 

  • Discipline: The principle warns that if you continually spend more than you earn, you will face financial ruin.
  • Proactive Management: It suggests that financial success is built on small, consistent, and positive financial choices.

 

Ben & Rose

 Am I late to the party? Does everyone else already know this darling couple from Lancaster County, Ben and Rose? They are entrancing. The evident love between them, and the honesty and simplicity of how they are — oh, I just love them!

I find them absolutely arresting. Wanting to pursue their music and (I suppose) their online presence, they have come out of the Old Order Amish context where they grew up, but their demeanour and relationship shows me something I have never seen — masculinity and femininity not acculturated to our normal Western culture in which the women are like Barbie and the men are like Shrek. There is a strength and confidence in that young woman, and a gentleness and shyness in her man, that give me hope for humanity


 




  


❤️ ๐Ÿ˜Š

Wednesday, 8 April 2026

Harmony

 The father of my children was (is) a musician. He is particularly gifted at helping groups of people to sing together — whether that be a class of school children or a choir of mixed ability. 

He's also a superb accompanist and worship leader. He understands the rรดle of music in building an integral structure, everyone taking their part to allow it all to work together as a united whole.

Singing in harmony acts like a parable or icon of the common life. You know that psalm (Ps 133 RSV)

Behold, how good and pleasant it is
    when brothers dwell in unity!

It is like the precious oil upon the head,
    running down upon the beard,
upon the beard of Aaron,
    running down on the collar of his robes!

It is like the dew of Hermon,
    which falls on the mountains of Zion!
For there the Lord has commanded the blessing,
    life for evermore.

And my children's father, before the days when the UK National Curriculum outlawed him from doing it, used to prioritise class singing when he taught is school, because he said it not only taught them music, it also taught them how to be an effective group of people.

In the same way, the skill of a worship accompanist is different from the skill of a concert performer. The accompanist is there to uplift and promote and facilitate the others, the ones who are not him/her. The performer is there to draw attention, to take centre stage.

In music for worship, sung in harmony, the art is to sing loud enough that the person next to you can hear you, and quiet enough that you can hear them. And that is also the art of life — to play your part but also to enable others and allow them to shine.

Very few churches have congregations who sing in harmony, which is a matter of sadness for me, because polyphonic music has a marvellous integrated structure, it's very powerful.

Here's a good example of a hymn sounding as it should, strengthened by its balancing harmonies.




And here's the father of my children singing in harmony with friends at York, fifty years ago. He has the bass line.







Monday, 6 April 2026

St Luke's Little Summer

 St Luke's Little Summer, the next story in the Hawk & the Dove series, is ready for you to read now.




This is the fourth volume in The Hawk & the Dove Series 2, and follows on from A Path of Serious Happiness.




You can find it on Amazon in both Kindle e-book and paperback —

Here on US Amazon (e-book here)

Here on Amazon UK (e-book here)

The paperback's not up on Amazon Australia yet, but it should go through very shortly. The e-book's here on Amazon Australia, and the paperback should come up for you when they've got it through.

If any of the links don't work for you, you'll find it if you go to your region's Amazon and search the store for "St Luke's Little Summer Penelope Wilcock".

— Thank you, thank you, to friends who have already come along and bought a copy. ❤️ Makes me happy. Makes it worthwhile. We keep the prices low because everyone's struggling in these difficult days. This book and the one I'm finishing writing now are written into the particular troubles of our times. They speak to the attitudes that I think will get us through. My life is so small and insignificant, writing these stories is the only gift I have to bring. I love it that you are reading them. 
Come back and let us know how you get on with this new story. ๐Ÿ˜ƒ

 A hymn of joy because I'm happy.




I'm just now working on the final Hawk & Dove book, so that should be ready by the summer, and will be called The Light of One Lamp.

Saturday, 4 April 2026

Blessed feast, friends. Christ is risen.

 Alleluia! Christ is risen!

 


Low in the grave He lay

Jesus my Saviour!

Waiting the coming day

Jesus my Lord!


Refrain:

Up from the grave He arose

With a mighty triumph o'er His foes

He arose a Victor from the dark domain

And He lives forever with His saints to reign

He arose! (He arose)

He arose! (He arose)

Hallelujah! Christ arose!


Vainly they watch His bed

Jesus, my Saviour!

Vainly they seal the dead

Jesus my Lord!

Up from the grave He arose…

 

Death cannot keep his prey

Jesus, my Saviour!

He tore the bars away

Jesus my Lord!

Up from the grave He arose…






Would you be free from the burden of sin?

There's power in the blood, power in the blood.

Would you o'er evil a victory win?

There's wonderful power in the blood.


Refrain:

There is power, power, wonder-working power

in the blood of the Lamb;

there is power, power, wonder-working power

in the precious blood of the Lamb.


Would you be free from your passion and pride?

There's power in the blood, power in the blood.

Come for a cleansing to Calvary's tide.

There's wonderful power in the blood. 

There is power, power, wonder-working power…


Would you be whiter, much whiter than snow?

There's power in the blood, power in the blood.

Sin-stains are lost in its life-giving flow;

there's wonderful power in the blood. 

There is power, power, wonder-working power…


Would you do service for Jesus your King?

There's power in the blood, power in the blood.

Would you live daily His praises to sing?

There's wonderful power in the blood.  

There is power, power, wonder-working power…





Saturday, 28 March 2026

"Jerusalem"

 I'm thinking about William Blake's poem Jerusalem. Its text was set to music by Hubert Parry, and so the hymn was born that became the anthem of the Women's Institute in 1924 after the suffragettes adopted its use in 1918. Nowadays it's been sung at patriotic events like the Last Night of the Proms, along with Land of Hope and Glory, and Rule Britannia, year by year in England for ever such a long time.

It strikes me as an interesting example of conflict between style and content. Parry's tune is gloriously rousing, and the hymn itself references the English countryside — a vague overall effect is created of celebrating Tolkienesque shires and proclaiming establishment of Englishness in some unfocused way. Because of this, its use is often denounced as jingoistic and tasteless nationalism. In parenthesis, is nationalism a negative thing? I've never heard Bhutanese nationalism denounced, or Swiss nationalism, or Japanese nationalism. Only English. But, moving on — those who so denounce it are, I think responding to an impression that arises mainly from the tune. Maybe they haven't paid attention to the words, or maybe they have but struggle to understand the conceits of poetry; what I mean is, perhaps they don't get it.

Here's the hymn, in case you don't know it (if you aren't English, you might not).


What its critics miss, is that Blake's Jerusalem is not asserting English dominance/supremacy but criticising contemporary aspects of English society at that time.

Blake was vehemently antagonistic to the Industrial Revolution — the "dark satanic mills" of the poem. He hated the child labour, the social inequality inherent in a society where wealthy mill owners exploited their work force in miserable factory conditions. He loathed the mechanisation, and the constraints of social rigidity (including the religious variety). He believed in Nature as a conduit or expression of divine imagination — 
To see a world in a grain of sand
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
And eternity in an hour.
A robin redbreast in a cage
Puts all Heaven in a rage. (from Auguries of Innocence)

He believed in what one might call cosmic intelligence, or divine inspiration, in being one's natural self. William Blake used to hold nudist tea-parties. He was all about being your real self unadorned in every possible way.

So, in Jerusalem, he's bringing all the power of his spirit, the power of the natural man, to challenge the dullness, the deadness, the grim cramping coercion, that he saw in the Industrial Revolution. He's advocating for the freedom of the human soul, the liberating power and innocence of Christ-consciousness, to redeem what elsewhere is called "the huddled masses" (Emma Lazarus The New Colossus 1883).

The most similar poem I know to William Blake's Jerusalem is D.H Lawrence's Lord's Prayer. I'm not sure if that's in the public domain (most of Lawrence's work is, but not all), so rather than reproduce it, I'll link you to it — here.

Jerusalem is a roar for the freedom of the human spirit, and for the restoration of natural reverence — it's not a jingoistic assertion of political dominance, as those who oppose the singing of it (not those who love it) mistakenly believe.

Tuesday, 24 March 2026

Beauty and the beast

 The people who lived in our house before us (they were our rental tenants) chose the front door when we renewed all the windows. 

The door has a glass panel with stylised roses on it, which would not have been our choice, but we wanted the house to feel properly like their home — they rented it from us for about a decade.

On that glass panel they attached one of those sticky wall hooks, so they could put up a wreath at Christmas.

I like that idea but a) I'm too mean to shell out for a wreath, and b) all the wreaths I saw in the shops when I looked at Christmas seemed very heavy to me. I thought they might pull the hook off, and then what?

So since last summer when we moved in, we've had a front door with a glass panel and a hook but never hung anything on it.

That all changed this spring when Grace (my daughter) and Iceni (her daughter) called in after their home-ed gathering where they'd been making spring wreaths.

They brought this.



Brilliant! Perfect! It's pretty, it's seasonal, and because it's made of simple and natural materials, it isn't too heavy. I love it. An Easter wreath, right there.

So that's one thing from our house. Here's another.

My memory isn't completely shot — I know who I am and the name of the Prime Minister and the post code for my house, all that kind of thing. I can remember the words to the Salve Regina and the Hail Mary, and I remember odd things like that the London train that goes through Saffron Walden continues on to Liverpool Lime Street, which is not intuitive in my opinion. 

But I do quite often forget to take my pills and unplug my phone after it's charged so it doesn't stress the battery and take my distance glasses on the rare occasions I go to the cinema.

Most of the time, especially when I am writing, my mind is in 14th century Yorkshire even though my body is on the south coast in 2026. So sometimes my body does things by itself that seem to bypass my mind altogether and surprise it later on.

This happened today.

I went upstairs to retrieve something or other (I've forgotten what, now), looked across my room and saw this thing on the table under the window.


What the hey? Jeepers! What the ever-loving heck is that lump of extreme weirdness? — I thought.

After a short while my mind caught up with my body and I knew what I was looking at — a chicken I'd got out of the freezer to defrost. I should explain it was in my bedroom because I have two massive inbuilt wardrobes and not that many clothes, so in one wardrobe I keep a freezer. There is arguably room for it downstairs in the pantry, but that's where we stash the water from the spring and the hoover and our clogs for the garden.

So my life is full of surprises and I know what I'm doing a lot less of the time than I should, but on the bright side I did write two-and-a-half thousand words this morning, which is not bad going even if I did inadvertently leave my consciousness behind at St Alcuins.

Monday, 23 March 2026

Not sure what to think

 For some while now we — Tony (my husband) and me — have been in search of a place we both wanted to worship.

I was very happy in Methodism, and Tony gave it a really good go but never felt quite at home there. That wasn't why I left, but the reasons for that make a story best left to sink to the bottom of the sea.

For a while we worshipped in a very high Anglican Church — all incense and processions. Again it wasn't Tony's thing (at all) but he was willing to go there if that was what I wanted. I liked it, but after I got ill, and wasn't well enough to drive for a long time, the bus times were wrong so I tried a nearer church (Methodist, and had to leave, see paragraph above).

For a couple of years, of course, we ran our own expression of church on Facebook — The Campfire Church that we started when the UK went into Covid lockdown, and it just kept going until more or less everyone had found physical communities to join again.

More recently we went to a low Anglican church — the old-fashioned kind of Evangelical rather than the charismatic sort. Tony felt comfortable enough with that, but I didn't really fit in. At all. There was a darling couple whose house group we went to, really dear people, and I did like the music in the church, though it was all on a karaoke machine, they didn't have any musicians. But it was okay.

Tony wanted to go to church with me rather than finding separate places to go, and I was running out of ideas.

In an ideal world what I'd like is either cathedral worship or to tack onto the worship of a monastery, but neither of those options present where I live. I went once to an Eastern Orthodox service, and found it very beautiful, but I think I'm a bit more informal than that.

I worshipped with the Quakers for a year or so when I first moved back to Hastings, but though I loved the silence I missed the music — and for me Jesus is central, where I think for Quakers these days it's more a meditative political kind of thing. Beautiful in its way, but not really me.

So in the last few weeks we've been going to a church where Tony is really happy — he absolutely loves it, says it feels like coming home.

It's very hip and trendy. Very ethnically diverse. A loud band — the whole place thumps like it was having a heart attack as we approach on a Sunday morning. There are lots of kiddies. The pastor is a very good preacher — the best we've come across in recent years by a long way. Women are allowed to preach as well, which is refreshing. They stick to a spiritual message and don't turn it into a party political broadcast of sorts, which comes as a relief.

The shape of the liturgy is interesting. At the beginning everyone stands up and there is a long time of singing, very repetitive songs with indeterminate tunes in the modern idiom. At some point there's an offering (with card machines!) while the singing goes on and on. Sometimes there will be a prayer put up on the screens for us all to say together. Then there's always a sermon, quite long, usually good. Then there's more singing and an altar call for people who want to be prayed with individually.

At some point there are detailed notices about the life of the church.

Now then — this rocked me back a bit. Last Sunday we went to church and it was the week of the Hastings Half Marathon, so the service was ending early in order for the congregation to go and cheer on the runners as they passed along the nearby sea road.

So there were lengthy and interesting notices about big things coming up to do with a huge programme for restoring the building, and the church had found a goodnatured and cheerful way of encouraging the wild posse of children who attend to walk in church rather than racing round like the Gadarene swine, so that was in the notices too.

There was long long long long singing as usual. Not songs I knew and hard to distinguish one from the other, but hey, that's fine. 

There was a competent (not brilliant) sermon about principles of prayer, based on the passage about Abraham's servant choosing Rebekah as a wife for Isaac.

Some more singing and an opportunity for those who wanted prayer. At that point, as they were about to all clatter off to the sea road and cheer on the runners, I went and got a bus home because I'm not good at long standing (one reason why Orthodox worship doesn't work for me).

So that was all okay except... well... hello? Hadn't they missed something out? Like, any mention whatsoever that it was Passion Sunday.

I still can't get my head around that really.

The week before was Mothering Sunday, and that was marked — nothing about Jerusalem or that it was Laetare Sunday and how it fits into Lent, but daffs for the kiddies to give out to all the women. Women! "Uh-oh," I said to Tone, "let's see how this goes." I mean we live in a world where even our illustrious leaders can't commit to any certainty of what a woman is. Sure enough, one of the kiddies gave Tony a bunch of daffs. "Told you so," I said.

Anyway that was all well and good, but for Passion Sunday to come and go without even a passing glance? Seriously?

I'm not too sure what I think about that.

At Wild Church we thought about spring and nature and new beginnings and the equinox, but that was fair enough — the folk at Wild Church are barely clinging onto Christianity by their fingernails, more into politics really.

But the C of E on Passion Sunday and no sign at all they even knew? Am I in the right place? 

I'm tired of leaving things, I'd love to find somewhere to belong. That was why I started writing stories of course — the community my heart was looking for. So I can still do that.

This is what I would have wanted to sing, on Sunday morning.




Or this (the words of the song are given under the video).

Saturday, 21 March 2026

Wild church

 Today we had our Wild Church meeting, thinking about the spring equinox, about (as our group leader put it) "facing what is new in our lives".

I was interested in that, because often what is new is regarded as exciting and refreshing. Having it worded as "facing what is new" brought out the other aspect of newness, that it can be daunting. Anything unfamiliar presents a challenge.

We had some new people in the group too, including a young baby — so everything in the whole world was new to her!

And the sun shone. We thought it would be cold, and wore our hats and took blankets to wrap round us, but no — it was actually warm.

This was our circle, the photo taken during the bit of the meeting where we all wander off for a contemplative peregrination to absorb the beauty of the natural world.




We were by the ruins of the old 12th century St Helens Church (there's a newer Victorian version not far away from it). Some parts of it even go back to the 11th century.

If you stand further back from where our chairs were, it looks like this.

There's also a spring nearby it. I know about the spring, but I have never looked for it to see it myself. Here it is — pictures from someone who has been there.



Now I know how to get to the site of the old church (before, I knew only roughly where it is), I'll go back one day when I'm feeling sprightly, and look for the spring. It has all the hallmarks of a holy well, don't you think? Anyway, all springs are holy.

So that was a good day.

My new story is very nearly ready. We've had the proofs and read them, and sent back the corrections to Jonathan. As soon as he's amended the formatted text, Tony will upload it to Amazon and — voilร ! — it'll be good to go. If Jonathan's not busy on other things, tat should be in a week or so. I'll let you know.

Meanwhile I'm about halfway through writing what will be the very last one of the Hawk and Dove books. What a long and happy journey that's been.