Saturday Sunshine...

To add injury to insult, I thwacked my little toe on the edge of a door yesterday evening, just to put the lid on my "Friday the Thirteenth" woes, and it has really swelled up.

However, the sun was shining this morning, and we had our regular Missa Cantata - a week late because there wasn't any Mass last Saturday morning - and just before it began, I got a phone call to say that my car had been fixed, and would be waiting for me to collect when I was ready.

Apparently it wasn't the thermostat which was the problem. Some pipe or other was leaking, so the water wasn't getting hot enough to get the thermostat to open the valve so the water could circulate and cool the engine down... I'm not really too clear on the details... whatever the problem was, it's fixed now, and I have my car back, for which I am profoundly grateful.

Friday the Thirteenth...

I'm sulking.

Friday the Thirteenth has so far been marked by the fact that I am without my beloved car, just before I am due to return to work, and so have to endure public transport...

...and also by the fact that, as it's Friday, I can't even indulge in a consoling bacon sandwich.

I can't. I checked with the PP after Mass.

Trouble Again...

*sigh*

No. I didn't forget the oil. Nor did I forget the water. And there wasn't actually any steam issuing from the engine... the picture is just a bit of poetic license.

However, I thought that there was going to be steam. And maybe even an explosion. The car was making some very unusual noises, and it hasn't ever made them before...

It started like this... I have learned to keep a close eye on the temperature gauge on my dashboard (the car one, not the Blogger one!) The indicator is normally bang on the centre, where there is a little thermometer symbol - helpful for blondes such as myself. If it goes slightly over the symbol, I top up the water in the radiator... it generally doesn't need much, and I've only had to do it a couple of times since my last major mistake.

I went to Bluewater this afternoon. On my way home, I noticed that the indicator was ever so slightly over the middle. I left the car to cool down, and then, a couple of hours later, checked the water and the oil. Both seemed to be fine, though there was rather a lot of water in the overflow container (you remember the overflow container? The one everyone thought was the windscreen wash bottle?) I emptied some of the excess from the overflow, topped up the radiator and proceeded to drive to church for Benediction.

The indicator seemed to stay really low for much longer than usual, but then suddenly it started to race up. It went way over the middle and crept relentlessly towards the red. With about a centimetre to go till the indicator hit red, I realised that there was this loud bubbling sound coming from the engine, and I was convinced that the thing was going to explode. I pulled over, turned off the engine and decided to walk the rest of the way to church...

I did consider calling my breakdown service, but I would have missed Benediction. Added to which, there weren't any garages open by that time. And I figured that nothing could get fixed in the dark anyway.

Several men have listened, smiled pityingly at the terrified blonde wreck I had become, reassured me that the car wouldn't actually have exploded, and have said that it sounds like the thermostat valve thingy in the radiator has gone. I shall investigate tomorrow... when I've calmed down just a bit... Unfortunately, I can't quite bring myself to believe that it will be quite so simple.

Say a prayer that it won't prove to be too expensive...

The Easter Vigil At Blackfen...

The Easter Vigil is always a very beautiful service. There is something very special about coming into the dark church and gradually watching it light up with more and more candles lit from the Paschal candle. Having the readings from the Old Testament by candlelight is a bit of a challenge for the readers... But then, at the Gloria, the bells which have been silent since Maundy Thursday ring out, and the organ starts up, and the first Mass of Easter starts.

There is something tremendously encouraging about the welcoming of new members into the Church - this year we had two baptisms and one reception...

I love the Vigil. There is a building excitement, a real sense of anticipation... in fact, I think that if I were to go straight from Good Friday to Easter Sunday, without the Vigil, I'd feel cheated... not least because I'd have to wait even longer to get stuck in to the Easter Eggs!

I've taken a few more photos, which you can see on Flickr...

Good Friday...

We celebrate the Afternoon Liturgical Action of the Passion on Good Friday in the Ordinary Form at Blackfen. I was tempted to go to St. Bede's, Clapham Park for the Extraordinary Form liturgy, but for the Triduum I sort of feel that I should stay in my own parish. After all, it's all done very well at Blackfen - there are none of the liturgical abuses or horror-stories which have been recounted by friends located elsewhere!

Nevertheless, the Good Friday liturgy doesn't have many photogenic moments. I only uploaded four photos to Flickr this year. I did find the liturgy very moving, and was in tears after venerating the Cross, but there wasn't much to see.

You can see the photos I did upload on Flickr.

Photos From Maundy Thursday...

Just a few days later than planned - I'm slowly catching up with myself...

We were extremely fortunate to be able to have Solemn High Mass in the Extraordinary Form for Maundy Thursday. The music was beautifully sung by our choir - to say that the absence of the organ was really noticeable could be taken the wrong way, but what I actually mean is that the contrast struck me quite forcibly this year.

At what felt like the last minute, I was given the task of finding men for the Mandatum - the washing of feet - and was almost despairing, when, with less than ten minutes to go, I had only succeeded in getting one volunteer. Fortunately, with much arm-twisting and pleading, I managed to get another seven before the Mass started, and four of the servers were press-ganged to make up the full number. The reluctance of men to volunteer for the Mandatum was almost comical - I had no idea so many people had foot problems. It is not, however, without biblical precedent: think about how reluctant St. Peter was to have his feet washed...

One elderly man seemed quite touched by the request - he told me that he'd never been asked before, in 70 years of attending church, and thanked me profusely, though he still refused...

I've put up a selection of photos on my Flickr page.

Bullying & Blackmail...

Monsignor Furretti is, at the moment, top cat. It seems to be a pretty fluid arrangement - sometimes one appears to be in the ascendant, then the other. Anyway, Furretti has been monopolising my bed, the top of the wardrobe, and the cat beds. Miaowrini has had to try and find herself other spots; however, each time she identifies somewhere comfortable, Furretti decides that she wants it. The exception is when I'm in bed - Furretti likes the attention, and so sleeps with me. So far, the only spot Miaowrini has been unchallenged is on the chair by my computer... and given that Furretti has ousted her from all the other spots, I haven't got the heart to move her.

I've found that I'm actually checking to see if the cat is out so that I can sit down at my computer... If she's already curled up on the chair, I leave her alone (apart from tickling her on the tummy as I pass - she likes that!) Today, I managed to get to the chair first, so she had to slum it on the sofa...

Meanwhile, Monsignor Furretti has been ill. I noticed her drooling a lot on Thursday, and on Good Friday morning found that the spot she had been sleeping on was pretty wet. She felt a bit thinner than usual, and her fur suddenly looked scraggy, as if she hadn't been grooming herself. I also noticed that, when I fed her a couple of her absolute-favourite-go-mad-for-cat-treats, she spent rather a lot of time licking her chops.

I was rather worried, and phoned a local vet. The nurse reassured me, and advised me to leave it another day - not least because the basic examination fee, not including treatment, was pretty astronomical. Nevertheless, given that Furretti was obviously hungry, but off her food at the same time (a weird combination, I know) I decided to go to the local supermarket after Stations to get some smoked salmon. It's the feline equivalent of chicken soup, in my opinion, and I was worried. I thought that I could be forgiven for going shopping on Good Friday since it was for the cat, and not for myself...

By the time I got home, Furretti was out. I called her name through the catflap, and, after a brief delay (ten minutes during which I had visions of a dead or dying cat under a bush) she came in, closely followed by Miaowrini. I distracted Miaowrini with a large piece of salmon, and proceeded to feed Furretti her share in tiny slivers. They disappeared pretty quickly, and Furretti brightened up considerably. I have to say that, not having eaten anything myself, the feeding of smoked salmon to two cats proved to be quite an arduous penance.

When I got back home after the Afternoon Liturgical Action of the Passion, Furretti had obviously been grooming herself, she looked a lot less scraggy, and she even managed to eat some cat biscuits. She had a good night, and didn't drool as far as I could see, and so I decided to forego the trauma of the vet...

When I got home after the Vigil this evening, Miaowrini was looking a little sorry for herself. There was evidence that she had thrown up a furball, but it looked as though she'd lost dinner too. Out came the rest of the smoked salmon, and I found myself feeding small slivers to the two cats, one after the other. Much purring and guzzling of salmon ensued. Both cats looked rather pleased with themselves, and have now gone out of the catflap.

It occurred to me that I'm being played for a mug...