The Quarant'Ore Continued...

I found it hard to tear myself away from the kittens. I managed it, though I felt awfully guilty. I consoled myself with the reflection that they had plenty of food and water, the flat was nice and warm, and they had each other for company. I also thought that it wouldn't hurt to get them accustomed to the fact that I'm usually out all day. I did wonder whether I'd have any statues left by the time I returned, but then realised that most of my statues are actually bigger than the cats...

Anyway, off I went. The Mass on the second day of the Quarant'Ore is a votive Mass for Peace. I thought it would be a Low Mass, but it was a Missa Cantata - no mean feat, given the limited space available. I took one or two photos, mainly to show off the beautiful vestments, but didn't have the best of angles. At least this time I didn't need to photoshop anyone out of the picture!

After a brief interlude in the Parish Club, I returned at 11pm to the church for a night of watching. I had brought my Office, a biography of Teresa Higginson, (she introduced the devotion to the Sacred Head of Our Lord) a book on the early development of the Mass, a book on novenas and indulgences, and I had my rosary, but in fact I hardly used them... I have no idea where the time went!

During the night, several of the candles needed replacing, and I was the most sacristy-savvy person around. I was unwilling to go clunking up onto the Sanctuary - the crutches made me even less agile than usual - so I had to direct various people to retrieve the candlesticks for me one after the other, and bring them to me in the sacristy. Unfortunately I had forgotten that what looks like a reasonable-sized stump of a candle from my vantage-point in the pews is, in reality, a very short stump of a candle... Sometimes there wasn't enough candle left to get a good grip, and I ended up with very hot wax on my poor fingers, fingers already tender from being chewed by razor-sharp kitten teeth. I had to remove some candle stumps by pulling on the wicks... and sometimes I had to resort to gouging the stumps out using a pair of scissors...

The Mass for the end of the Quarant'Ore, like the one at the start, is a votive Mass of the Blessed Sacrament, so it has the same texts as Corpus Christi. The Litany of Saints was sung, the Blessed Sacrament was carried around the church in procession, and then we received Benediction... after which Our Lord was reposed in the tabernacle. Again, just as we found last year, having been privileged to be so close to Our Lord, there was a definite sense of loss when it was all over, and the Blessed Sacrament was once more hidden from view.

Anyway, I thought I'd share some of my photos...

One of the things which struck me at the end of the Forty Hours' was what a tremendous blessing it was to have this as part of the parish calendar. It is very special, and yet it isn't a "special event" - at one time I'd have thought that the Forty Hours was something for which you went to a Cathedral, or an Oratory, or a Monastery... but this was just our own parish... As such, people could come along just for ten minutes on their way to work, or for half an hour at the end of the day... Our Lord was just there, waiting... which, as Fr. Tim mentioned in his sermon, is one of the things which the Quarant'Ore reminds us - Jesus is waiting in the tabernacle of every church, every day, just waiting for us to remember him.

If you do get the opportunity to go to a Forty Hours' devotion, make the most of it. Go along. Five minutes, an hour, a Mass, or an afternoon... I'll bet that, whatever time you "plan" to allow, you'll find it hard to tear yourself away. God is never outdone in generosity, and he just waits to give us his blessings... but we have to remember to ask!

Back To The Cats...

Well, you didn't really believe you would get off so lightly, did you? Oh, foolish, foolish person...

I had to play with the cats when I got home. Well, they had probably been snoozing all day, and so it didn't seem quite fair to go straight to sleep. When they eventually curled up on the sofa, I decided that it might be a good time for me to get some sleep. No sooner had I gotten into bed than I felt a soft little thud, and found that Monsignor Furretti had joined me. Cardinal Catzinger arrived shortly after.

I didn't sleep well... I think I was unconsciously afraid of squashing one or both of them... One ended up asleep on the pillow by my head, and one curled up under the duvet - it was pretty cold last night. Every time I changed position, I became aware that my toes were providing entertainment. And, no matter how soundly asleep the two appeared to be, each time I got up to go to the bathroom, I was followed...

They are fascinating to watch. Cardinal Catzinger, in the animal pen, appeared much bolder than the smaller Monsignor Furretti, and, indeed, he made the first move in the adoption process. However, now, Furretti is definitely more active and demanding. Catzinger is quieter. Furretti will follow me about, almost at my heels, while Catzinger will wait to see what is happening, and then, once I've settled, he will make his move.

Neither of them ate very much yesterday, but by this morning all the food I had put out had been eaten, and they were keen to have breakfast. They don't appear to be so keen on the biscuits... that might be the brand - Sylvester wasn't too keen on them either. He much preferred the special biscuits I bought from the vet... Hopefully these two won't need a special diet for quite a few years yet...

Ok, a couple more pictures...

Monsignor Furretti has longer fur, and very long, curly whiskers, and her fur actually appears to be slightly brown in places. It is possible that, as she gets older and fills out a bit, her fur may darken... or she may go brown all over... I'm not quite sure how fur colour works in cats...

Cardinal Catzinger, on the other hand, is a sleeker, shorter-haired cat, and his fur is jet black. He reminds me of Sylvester, but without the white patch...

I shall keep you all informed...

Blackfen's Quarante'Ore Under Way...

I did manage to drag myself away from the cats...

I thought I better put some pictures up from the start of the Quarant'Ore at Blackfen, before I lost all credibility as a Catholic Blogger.

It was really awesome. The Mass (a votive one of the Blessed Sacrament) was beautiful - and we had more candlesticks this year, the extras on loan from the Parish Priest of Chislehurst. Fortunately I had remembered to collect them. His Hermeneuticalness informed us, during the sermon, that the Jansenists used to insist, in their attempts to avoid ostentation, that there should be no more than 40 candles. Fr. Tim took great delight in pointing out that we had more than 40...

I didn't want to leave the cats alone all night for their first night, so, after a brief pause in the Parish Club for a coca cola and a chat, I stayed only for an hour, and then went home...

A Hunter Shoots A Bear...

...actually, he doesn't... unless you want him to.

This has to be one of the most awesome adverts I have ever seen. It's for Tippex, the correction fluid... though it's not fluid any more.

Play the video and then decide what you want the hunter to do. Even if they don't have that option, it's very, very funny. There is some bad language at the beginning, which is a shame, but...



By the way, that reminds me... How do you know that a blonde has been using your computer?

Easy. There's Tippex all over the screen!

While My Toes Are Being Chewed...

Having been out all evening at the start of the Quarant'Ore devotions at Blackfen (with a brief interlude in the Parish Club... it's thirsty work singing the Litany of Saints!) I didn't feel it was fair to go straight to sleep...

I'm sitting in front of the computer with one kitty playing catch with my toes, and another perched precariously on my lap. The latter is watching my keyboard with interest... she will probably try to update her mouse skills shortly.

I just thought I'd give a new blog a bit of a shout out - Linen on the Hedgerow was started a little earlier this month by Richard Collins. It's good stuff, and he needs encouragement, so do pop on over and tell him I sent you!

I wonder why he chose that particular name for the blog...

Another Cat Post... Sorry!

Well, actually I'm not a bit sorry.

If you have no interest in cats, I suggest you ignore my blog for a week or two. I have two new kitties, and I guess that I'm smitten enough to want to show them off to the whole world.

If my stats go down, so be it. Of course, you might miss the amazing photo posts I plan to do for Blackfen's Quarant'Ore, which starts tonight.

The kitties arrived earlier today. I allowed them time to explore on their own, as I had stuff to do. When I got back in, I fed them... or, rather, I attempted to feed them. Neither of the cats was interested in eating. As Monsignor Furretti is a little on the thin side, I wasn't very happy about that. However, the two little furballs have had their jabs this morning, and have been microchipped, and I was warned by their carer that they might have upset tums today.

They did. Mind you, the cats are so small it was hardly a problem. Somehow they looked bigger in the shop...

I thought I might be distracting them, so I left them in the kitchen by the food bowl, and went to sit down in the living room. Within two seconds I had been followed in. One cat jumped up onto my lap, and the other lay on my shoulder and arm. Both started to purr. And then they went to sleep.

After half an hour of sitting still, I had to get up. Cardinal Catzinger wasn't impressed, but he accepted my apologies (in the form of chin-tickling) and the two cats are curled up on the armchair - taking up less space than Sylvester did on his own - while I'm typing this. I did manage to get a photo or two...

I am just a little reluctant to go out...

*sigh*

Mad Cat Lady...

I have to say that I was a little discouraged by the response from the cat charity I phoned. I understand that they want their cats to go to good homes, but the person who spoke to me was very negative about my wish to get a cat who would be able to go out.

I wondered if they had rather a lot of indoors-only cats they needed to rehome. I can understand this attitude, but the owners' needs do have to be taken into consideration. I really do want cats that can go out - I would feel less guilty about being out at work for long hours.

In the com-box, Genty reminded me that there are plenty of other cat charities. I assumed that they would all have similar procedures, but, on impulse, I phoned one up, just to see what sort of response I would get.

A very different attitude, it seems.

"Please do come in, we have lots of cats needing homes. See if there's one you get on with... we can do the home check when we deliver the cat."

So, today I popped in to see the cats waiting for someone to adopt them. There was one very demanding feline - absolutely beautiful - and he was desperate to be let out of his cage. I like "chatty" cats, but was warned that this one was on his own in a cage because he didn't get on with other cats, and needed a home alone. I was tempted, but I really wanted two cats to keep each other company during the day.

There was a large, walk-in cage with several cats lying in beds and sitting on the shelves. I was encouraged to go in and handle a few cats. I was anxious not to scare them, so I left the crutches outside the cage, and hopped in. One big ginger cat made a bid for freedom - I didn't chase after him (I couldn't) - and he hissed and growled when one of the other cats approached him. As there are several cats in our block of flats, this didn't bode well for garden interactions.

There were two tiny kittens, very cute, but they looked as if they needed serious one-to-one care - they were terribly timid, and were licking my fingers as if they wanted mum. Too needy.

A slightly older cat got up and he moved towards my hand, purring. I'm a sucker for a purring cat. I stroked him, and he rubbed against me, and stood up with his front paws on my arm - the shelf he was on was at waist height. I picked him up, and he lay on my shoulder, rubbing his head against my chin. His litter-mate, very shyly, got up to investigate, and she also started purring and rubbing against my hand.

I was totally smitten. The helpers commented that the two cats never normally behaved that way - I did take that comment with a large pinch of salt - but I felt that I had, nevertheless, been approved by the feline adoption committee.

Having gained my full attention, the two cats, in true cat fashion, promptly decided to ignore me and go and have a nap. I recognised my place, and left to sort out the paperwork...

The cats are about four months old. It seems that they were abandoned as kittens in the stairwell of a block of flats - one with an entryphone system. It's difficult to tell a cat's sex at that age, but I was promised a definitive answer by the time they arrive - they had already been booked in to the vets for jabs and microchipping tomorrow morning, so they will be brought round to me in the afternoon. I was a little concerned that I would be out for quite a few hours each day for the first couple of days, but was reassured that letting the cats explore the flat on their own for a bit would actually be better for them...

I did manage to take a couple of photos before I left.

And so, I am proud to introduce Monsignor Mastai-Furretti... (yes, probably female, but she'll be neutered, and she looks like a "Furretti")

...and Cardinal Catzinger !

They're beautiful, and I couldn't understand why they hadn't been snapped up sooner. However, it seems that black cats are particularly hard to re-home. Superstition is one possible explanation, another is that tabby markings are considered prettier. A final explanation was given by the manager - she'd had people say that there were lots of black cats in their area, and they were concerned they wouldn't know which was theirs...

I figure that the cats can figure it out quite easily...

Anyway, I think I am now a confirmed member of the "mad cat lady" club...

Puzzled...

Taken from an article in the Catholic Times in September 2008:

"From the time of the apostles Peter and Paul there has always been disagreement in the Church, and it is often vigorously expressed – but, 'in all things charity.'"

No prizes for working out who the writer was. However, I am puzzled by the distinct lack of charity he shows towards those who criticise him.

Fr. Clifton first amended a post, following a phonecall from Mgr. Loftus, but to no avail. He then wrote:

"I regret to inform you that I am faced with an impossible situation. Mgr Loftus has refused to accept my apologies and threatens me with action in civil and church courts. As a result I am very worried..."

And then there is the threat to sue Fr. Ray Blake:

"The Monsignor threatened to sue me for suggesting that he was a heretic, if the comments were not removed within 7 days..."

It seems that a British court is unlikely to uphold any such suit (check out the explanations given by Fr. Tim Finigan and by Dominic Mary.) Nevertheless, the attitude shown by Mgr. Loftus appears to contradict his previous comment.

Not so much "but, in all things charity" as "anything but charity."

Kitty Lady To Visit...

Well, I have taken the next step in the Kitty Acquisition Task. On Thursday, I shall be visited by someone from the cat charity I had contacted, to see if I am a suitable person to adopt one of their cats.

Apparently, my address, on Google Maps, looks as if it is too close to the main road to allow me to have an "outdoor" cat... I pointed out that there is a large communal garden around the back, and the cat flap leads onto this garden, and that there is a large grassy verge (with bushes and trees and stuff) in the front courtyard, but it's not looking good.

I still hope to be able to give a rescue cat or two a good home...

In the meantime, I better get some housework done...

Sad...

I have been very saddened by the turn of events over at Fr. Clifton's blog. It is a shame that he feels he may have to stop blogging. Leutgeb has summed up the situation rather well.

I also think that Fr. Blake's post has much to commend it...

A Little Kitty Humour...

This brought back memories of the time I caught Sylvester tucking in to a cup of my sweet, milky coffee - something I make as a bedtime drink, and the only time I use "instant" ! I have to admit that I was a little shocked... I mean, I knew Garfield liked coffee, but...

...and just in case there's anyone who doesn't get the Garfield reference...