Another tram leaving Heaton Park tram station, just round the corner from my house and looking very attractive in the spring blossom and verdant green.
Bringing in it more people to walk round the park and to wander down Whittaker Lane to look at the many hairdressers, takeaways and, all of a sudden, the shop above, which offers massage, psychic readings, tarot, expensive looking rocks, dangly things and a whole cornucopia of other heresy and half baked 'spiritual' goings on. It used to be a therapy centre run by witches, at least one knew where one was with them, they were friendly and made nice tea and were happy to listen to what I had to say, but this new lot seem a different kettle of fish.
Which is exactly the conversation I was having with Andy and Adam, our builders, who were bemoaning the lack of Churchgoers in the country. We wondered if it may be to do with the lack of duty or longevity in employment, contracts or material goods. We are used to the transient, we need to keep our heads above water - and how hard it can be - and we seek not the things of God, we do not look for the hard, the hidden way, but pay someone to tell us what long lifelines, huge halos and big egos we have.