Amenhotep III has always been one of my favourite pharaohs; he reigned from the 1380s-1350s BC. On his watch, Egypt bloomed artistically, and we may still enjoy some of his legacy in the world’s museums. This large head of his is displayed at London, and is rather agreeable in its proportions and style.
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I was visiting a minister of the gospel not so long back when he passed me a cup of tea. “You’ll like it”, said he, “it comes all the way from South Africa and is called Red Bush.”
Trouble in the Middle East. Serious trouble: Iran sends missiles to Israel. Israel now prepares her deadly response. Some see old Persia attacking Judah, and enthusiastically regale us with apocalyptic analysis. One American pastor excitdedly messaged his mailing list (to which I have somehow been added):
I received a text message the other day from Mum. She had evidently changed her number and thoughtfully wished to make me aware. Strangely, Mum died two years ago, so unless there is a good phone signal in sheol, I suspect it wasn’t really from her. Had I replied, I think the conversation would have gone something like this:
Mum: Add my new number mum
Twice I have called at Brampton Old Church. A sign claims that a key is available at the nearby farm, but obtaining it is easier said than done. Nevertheless, one can admire it from without and eat a picnic in the shadow of its 800-year-old walls.