"Truly, it is the indescribable sweetness of contemplation which you give to those who love you. In this you have shown the tenderness of your charity, that when I had no being you made me; and when I strayed away from you, you brought me back again to serve you and commanded me to love you." The Imitation of Christ
Taking full advantage of having my car back, I popped over to see a friend this evening. She hadn't eaten, and so she ordered a pizza, while we both settled down to watch Shrek 3 (a little mindless entertainment at the end of a hard week!)
The pizza was duly delivered by a smiling delivery chap, who clearly had other things on his mind.
"What's the score?" he asked, anxiously, as he handed my friend her dinner and the ice-cream we planned to share as dessert.
We both confessed that we weren't watching the football, as neither of us had the slightest interest in it... and in fact were doing our uttermost to avoid any reference to it.
He looked very confused. "Not watching...?" he faltered.
Then he pulled himself together, handed over the soft drinks we'd ordered, and bid us a cheery goodbye.
"Enjoy the game!" he said.
Ever wonder if you're speaking the same language as everyone else?
Those insane friends who want to cycle to Rome this summer have posted their route map. I'm showing the rest of you as proof of my assertion that they are totally insane.
This sort of insanity deserves support, and you can sponsor them by visiting their charity page. They're doing pretty well - so far they've raised about £150. They're aiming to raise £1,200 which they plan to divide between Mary's Meals and the Cardinal Winning Pro-Life Initiative.
I hope to be able to blog on their progress... (maybe even a blogging exclusive!!) ... but I haven't asked them yet!
My snazzy camera is coming up to its first birthday, and I have to say that I have had a tremendous amount of pleasure using it. I haven't really experimented much with it, as the normal point-and-click photos have been pretty good, and I haven't wanted to mess anything up.
Some of the photos I managed to get in Lourdes were very good (even if I do say so myself!)
I took a few at the Torchlight Procession one evening - for some reason it seemed much lighter than in previous years... which is pretty nonsensical, as the pilgrimage is at pretty much the same time of year, and the length of the days is therefore much the same... However, the weather was better, which might have had an effect...
This one was taken just outside the Chapel of St. Michael, as there was a very large Mass being celebrated at the Grotto (I'm not sure which group) with pilgrims even participating on the other side of the Gave River, opposite the Grotto...
And, finally, this was a photo which cried out "postcard" to me, apart from it being slightly crooked. I promise I didn't touch up the colours... Unfortunately, standing at the edge of the area outside the Crypt of the Immaculate Conception Basilica, I couldn't get the whole of the spire into the shot. I shall experiment with a few of my photos to see if I can photoshop it together...
I have discovered that the purpose of my life is to serve as a warning to all my blonde friends.
One such friend (who shall remain nameless, as I wish her to remain my friend) confessed to me that, after reading my blog post on my most recent car-tastrophe, she immediately took her own car in to the garage and asked them to check the oil.
She was down to her last smidgeon... apparently, one more journey to Bluewater and she'd have suffered the same fate.
Three (certifiably insane) young friends of mine are planning to cycle all the way to Rome this summer. That's a distance of 1200 miles, passing through France, Switzerland, and Italy before finally arriving in Rome.
They describe the trip as "a holiday and a pilgrimage" and, though they have already funded the trip for themselves, they thought they'd use the opportunity to raise money for two charities while they were at it. The two charities are Mary's Meals and the Cardinal Winning Pro-Life Initiative.
Mary’s Meals provides a staple, daily meal in schools for children in some of the poorest countries in the world, thus fighting poverty through tackling malnutrition and encouraging education. The Cardinal Winning Pro-Life Initiative provides non-judgemental practical, spiritual and emotional support for mothers in the UK, struggling with crisis pregnancy and the prospect of bringing up a child alone.
They promise to keep any sponsors in their prayers en route.
Did I mention that I consider them insane?
However, such generosity of spirit deserves generous support, so, if you can, do please consider donating by visiting the donations page.
I have been finding things very difficult without a car.
Most of the bus drivers seem to take a perverse delight in braking as sharply as possible and then accelerating for a minuscule distance only to brake sharply again. And please don't get me started on cornering techniques... As a result, I'm having to brace myself (if the bus is crowded, which it generally is) in order to avoid falling over, and my knee and ankle are really reacting badly. I have the ankle strapped with a tubigrip bandage, but the knee has to fend for itself.
Teaching is not a sedentary occupation... by the end of the day, I am in quite a bit of pain.
One of the buses I catch each day has a "Hail & Ride" section, where the driver is supposed to stop anywhere it is safe when someone flags it down. After a very long day, I decided that I would try and flag the bus down rather than limp all the way along to the next official bus stop. It meant a much longer wait, as two different routes stop at the official stop, but my ankle was really sore. I made sure that the spot was a safe one, and that there were no double yellow lines or any other prohibitive road markings, and I perched on a low wall to wait for the bus.
After about fifteen minutes, the bus turned the corner, and I signalled in plenty of time. The bus driver waved his hand as if to say "no chance," then pointed forward to the next bus stop... and drove past. Even if I'd been able-bodied and fit as a flea, I couldn't have gotten to the stop in time. I was not a happy bunny.
Not wishing to risk being ignored again (and knowing that the next Hail & Ride bus wasn't due until 20 minutes later) I limped over to the main bus stop... and was overtaken by one of the other buses...
When I arrived home, over an hour later, there was a beautiful sight to greet me. My little green Hyundai was sitting in the courtyard, and the key had been posted through my letterbox.
Mass is the central part of the pilgrimage to Lourdes. We were incredibly lucky to have the opportunity to celebrate High Mass twice during our pilgrimage, both times in the Crypt of the parish church, Sacre Coeur.
I managed to take plenty of photos during Mass on the first visit to the Crypt, although not quite as many as usual, as I was responsible for singing the Mass propers (just the Rossini psalm tones, nothing too complicated) and I hadn't quite figured out how to hold the music and the camera at the same time...
It seemed rather strange to have stained glass windows in a Crypt. The entrance to the Crypt is outside the Church, near the back, and there is a steep staircase down into it (it does have a good hand rail.) I noticed people's feet just near the top of the windows, so realised that there must be some sort of basement area outside, though I didn't get time to explore.
On the second visit to the church, I was battling with the sequence Lauda Sion as well as with the Mass propers, as it was the feast of Corpus Christi. When I was first informed that I'd need to sing the sequence, I thought I knew which one it was, and was pretty sure I could manage it. I then discovered that it wasn't what I was thinking of... but was still not too worried, as I thought that the music was probably the same for each of the verses...
... and then I saw the music. It changed every two verses (roughly) ... and there were 24 verses. By the Wednesday evening, I was desperate. Fr. Tim sent me an MP3 file, and I tried to learn it. I couldn't just sing along: the acoustics in the Crypt meant that it had to be sung much more slowly than in the clip. At 3:30am, after falling asleep for five minutes sitting bolt upright with the hymn book in my hands, I realised that I really needed to go to bed...
On reflection, I should have kept my mouth shut, and made it up as I went along.
;-)
James Barton, senior MC from Chislehurst, knew it a bit, Fr. Tim knew it best (but as celebrant he had other stuff to do first) and I had a good stab at it. Between the three of us, we managed quite well, although there was a little faltering round about verse 10...
This seriously interfered with my photographic activities, and I contented myself with taking a shot during Benediction after Mass...
Mass on the first day in Lourdes was in the Glorious Cross chapel. I had been informed by the Domaine staff that this was a replacement for the St. Michael Chapel on the Grotto-side of the Crypt. There was no mention of the chapel anywhere on the Lourdes website, and Google failed to throw any light on its location.
We discovered that the chapel was in what had previously been the Musée Tresor - the museum with old vestments and Mass vessels. Effectively, the chapel was nothing more than a glorified lecture room. It was marginally better than the St. Patrick's Chapel over in the hemicycle (the chapel which looked like a whitewashed garage, or large cupboard) but there wasn't much in it. It is definitely one to avoid...
The candlesticks and altar cards (and possibly the crucifix) were among the items Jonathan (Blackfen's senior MC) had brought with him. For some reason the Lourdes shrine authorities seem to like providing a single large pillar candle and a plant pot for the altars...
On the last day, we had Mass in the St. Gabriel Chapel, on the road-side of the Crypt Chapel. Once again, we provided the candlesticks...
I've been incredibly busy this week, and haven't had the time to blog... and when I have had the time, I haven't had the energy.
My car is still without an engine, and I am having to go everywhere by bus. This means that my journey to work, which should take 15 minutes (or 20 minutes if I hit bad traffic) now can take up to an hour and a half. Most of this is time spent standing at the bus stop, so I can't do anything useful (except pray the Rosary) and as teaching involves being on one's feet all day, by the end of it I'm pretty shattered.
Prayers for the speedy restoration of the car would be gratefully appreciated...
We organise our own pilgrimage activities in order to keep costs down. For the past few years, we have tried to have some sort of optional afternoon excursion: a visit to the Grottes de Betharram (caves in the Pyrenees) and a trip up to the Pic du Jer on the funicular railway have featured previously.
This year we decided to pay a visit to Bartrès, the village where Bernadette's wet-nurse lived. Bernadette's mother, Louise, was very badly burned when a candle fell on her, and she couldn't breastfeed Bernadette. Marie Laguës, a customer of François Soubirous, had just lost her own child, and she agreed to nurse Bernadette for 5 francs a month, paid in cash or flour. Bernadette stayed with Marie until she was 2 years old.
In the Autumn of 1857, Bernadette returned to Bartrès. The Soubirous family had fallen on hard times, and it was felt that Bernadette, left with severe asthma after contracting cholera, would benefit from the healthier surroundings and better food. It also meant that there would be one less mouth to feed at the Cachot, the old prison building where the Soubirous family was forced to live. Bernadette was sent to work for her old wet-nurse, looking after the children, tending the sheep and doing various jobs around the farm.
Part of the deal struck between the two families was that Bernadette, who hadn't been able to attend school regularly, would be given the chance to go to school and attend catechism classes. Unfortunately, work on the farm took priority. Marie Laguës attempted to teach Bernadette her catechism, but became impatient when Bernadette found it difficult. Finally, the Parish Priest at Bartrès left to join a Benedictine community, and Bernadette realised that there was no chance of making her first Communion at Bartrès. She made the decision to return to Lourdes in January 1858. Three weeks later, Our Lady appeared in the Grotto at Massabielle.
I didn't get a chance to visit the sheepfold, as the path up from the town would have been too steep for me. I did, however, get to visit the parish church. St. Bernadette would have seen this same altarpiece... (ignore the wooden table in front!)
A little side altar to St. Bernadette...
The choir loft of the church...
A confessional... (sadly no longer in use, from the look of it.)
Another side-altar - this one to Our Lady...
I persuaded the group to stand for a photo, as the view from the graveyard was just so perfect...
The Laguës' farmhouse...
The bed where St. Bernadette slept...
Finally, St. Bernadette would wash clothes here...
Next year, we are going to see if it will be possible to celebrate Mass in the church in Bartrès. The opportunity to attend Mass in the church St. Bernadette knew and loved will be a very special one.
Well, I'm back home again. The pilgrimage to Lourdes was really wonderful... I was almost disappointed that the Icelandic volcano hadn't prevented us leaving...
Every cloud has a silver lining: at least I've had a chance to download my photos, and upload some of them to Flickr. I have realised that Flickr works best if you choose a few photos, rather than uploading the whole lot indiscriminately.
The weather was glorious: we had one morning where there was a dip in temperature and that very fine, misty rain (it would have to be the morning we had scheduled the group photo) but it had stopped by the time we had finished Mass. My camera was put to very good use, and I think one or two of my photos are really stunning.
I will post more about Lourdes later, but I just want to share a little joke which always makes me smile every time I enter the Domaine. Along the ramps there are various statues of saints. At the very bottom, there are two statues...
St. Remy is on the left. The one on the right is... you guessed it... St. Martin.
I was up ridiculously late last night, desperately trying to learn the sequence for our Corpus Christi High Mass this morning. When, at 3:30am, I dropped off for five minutes, and woke with a start still clutching the hymn book, I realised that it was time to call it a night...
This morning's Mass was back in the parish church in Lourdes. The acoustics in the crypt covered a multitude of errors, and we managed somehow. I also sang Mozart's Ave Verum.
It was incredibly moving to have Mass in the parish church on the day that St. Bernadette made her First Holy Communion. We shall be back next year too, if they'll have us. We finished up with a procession around the crypt (the steep stairs, and the stream of tour groups made leaving the crypt with the Blessed Sacrament impossible) followed by Benediction. I was too busy singing the propers and sequence to take photos during Mass, but I got some at Benediction...
I shall post some photos as soon as I get back...
A leisurely lunch ensued, and then I wandered back to the hotel ( via several shops) for a brief siesta. The Blessed Sacrament procession was the only scheduled activity for the afternoon - it finishes in the Basilica of St. Pius X, and I got some good photos. Sadly, the preponderence of ladies of an overly mature age acting as incense bearers made it feel more like a pagan ceremony than Benediction. I offered it up...
There's the final procession tonight, and then an early night for me, I think...
It is wonderful to be able to visit the place where Our Lady chose to appear, as Fr. Tim reminded us in his sermon this morning.
The visit to the Baths yesterday involved a very penitential wait (I didn't have any children or obviously disabled pilgrims to accompany me) but it was well worth the effort.
This morning started with the official group photo in front of the Rosary Basilica, and then people made their way to the parish church. As we have three priests on the pilgrimage, it seemed an excellent opportunity to celebrate Solemn High Mass.
Unfortunately I am not a proper musician, and the only people really competent enough to sing the Gregorian chant were all saying or serving Mass... which left me to sing the propers according to the Rossini psalm tones. The glorious acoustics in the Crypt prevented it from sounding too thin, and the congregation joined in for the ordinary chants of the Mass, so that was good.
In the afternoon, we went to Bartres. This was the village where St. Bernadette's wet-nurse lived, and where, just before the first Apparition, St. Bernadette worked as a shepherdess. I took photos of the house and the parish church, but had to give the sheepfold a miss, as the walk over the hills to the barn where St. Bernadette was too steep for me.
Fr. Tim met and chatted to the Sacristan, and I now have the delightful task of contacting the Parish to arrange a Mass at Bartres for next years' pilgrimage...
This morning was slightly overcast, but with the promise of bright sunshine to come. We found the new Glorious Cross chapel without any difficulty... and then rather wished we hadn't bothered, as it resembled a classroom.
Jonathan, our senior MC, had packed most of Blackfen's sacristy, and the use of two proper candles immediately upped the reverence quotient (in my humble opinion - but then again, some of you may prefer the asymmetrical, faux candle effect) !
Fr. Charles said the Mass, and Fr. Tim provided a few catechetical reflections.
Afterwards I went to register our group with the Information bureau, pay a donation for the group, collect our ticket for the afternoon Way of the Cross, and meet up with our guide for the tour of Lourdes. This provided the first little hiccough... there wasn't a spare guide, as ours had reported sick or something. No possibility of a tour until Thursday. Alas, Thursday is one of our solemn High Masses in the Parish church. Then they asked if we minded joining up with another group. We didn't, so everything was back on course. I delivered the members of our group to the guide (I have done the tour many times before, and my ankle was playing up, so I decided the hilly town walk was not a good idea) and then went for a cup of hot chocolate.
Pausing to drop some stuff in my hotel room, I then wandered back down to the Grotto for some personal prayer time. I also took a few photos. The sight of me taking photos I'm the Rosary Basilica brought all sorts of people over to ask me to take photos of themselves, something I was very happy to do.
Lunch then beckoned: magret de canard, one of my favourite dishes.
I'm now off to the Baths. Hopefully the lunch of roast duck won't make me sink without trace...
We have finally arrived in Lourdes, after a surprisingly uneventful journey - albeit a very long one.
I didn't manage to get any posts prepared in advance, so I'm pretty much restricted to what I can send from my iPhone... And, unless I am very lucky, I doubt that I will be able to upload any photos or video clips until I get home.
My car broke down again today. I was driving merrily down the A2 towards Bluewater, at 70 mph, when the car engine started to rattle. I really didn't like the sound of the rattle, so I pulled over onto the hard shoulder.
The A2 is actually more like a motorway at that point (obviously, or I wouldn't be doing 70 mph... or at least I wouldn't be blogging about it!) so I had to get out of the car on the passenger side.
I am not the most agile of people, so this manoeuvre wasn't the easiest to accomplish. At least this time I didn't end up with my feet stuck above the dashboard as I attempted to get over the gear stick. It didn't help that lorries were thundering past, making my little Hyundai shake.
However, I finally succeeded in getting out, and clambered over the small crash barrier at the side. I couldn't walk very far away because of the bushes growing there, but I thought I was probably at a safe enough distance.
And then it started to rain...
Luckily my breakdown service arrived pretty quickly.
The damage was self-inflicted, and I really could kick myself... I had forgotten to check the oil, and the engine, although fine when idling, is now making a nasty rattle when revved... and, since it couldn't be fixed at the road side, I was driven home again.
The engine will need stripping, and probably replacing. I wouldn't mind, but I have only just had the gearbox done... At this rate I'll have a new car by Christmas...
I was driving home this afternoon in the sunshine, and I stopped to allow a mother and her children to cross over to get to the park.
The mother obviously told her children to wave a "thank you" as they crossed.
The youngest child, a toddler, took her words to heart: he came to a dead stop in the middle of the crossing, and, facing me, waved furiously while beaming from ear to ear.
Misheard lyrics can be a source of amusement (like the one in the post title!) However, they can also really change the whole meaning of a song.
I always thought the Mamas & the Papas' classic, California Dreamin', went "Got down on my knees, and I began to pray..."
It seems that they were only pretending.
I also thought it had the line "If I didn't love her, I could leave today" whereas the actual lyrics are "If I didn't tell her..."
*sigh*
I think I prefer my version.
In the wake of having my illusions destroyed, I have been comforting myself with the reflection that this group really must have been strange... the woman in the middle looks as if she's desperate to go to the toilet, and is skittering around on one spot until she can escape, while the chap on the far right is trying to flick his fringe out of his eyes without moving his head too much... and the less said about his "dancing" the better...
I have almost completed all my preparations for the Parish Pilgrimage to Lourdes, and am no longer hyperventilating whenever anyone mentions Icelandic volcanoes or British Airways.
However, in case I allow myself to get too relaxed, a friend sent me a little snippet from the Daily Telegraph about a kitten who crawled into the washing machine for a nap...
Luckily Sylvester is too fat to fit comfortably into the washing machine...
I was quite amazed to hear that the powers-that-be are attempting to restrict the numbers of people attending events during the Papal visit.
Auntie Joanna and Bara Brith summarise the feelings of ordinary Catholics quite well, and Damian Thompson has given some of the background information which might explain what's going on.
I can understand the need to have tickets for events in enclosed spaces, such as the Mass at Westminster Cathedral. I do not understand why people are being discouraged from attending open-air events.
I personally hate large crowds, and my knee and ankle problems make my attendance at such events tricky, especially if it is necessary to walk long distances. However, I am busy reflecting on whether it will be possible for me to go and line the route somewhere...
I remember the effect that the visit of Pope John Paul II had on my father...
I was 14, and had only been baptised a couple of years, and wasn't entirely sure what "being Catholic" meant. My father had been lapsed for so long that, on trying to arrange for the baptism of my sister and me, he had returned after Mass absolutely apoplectic at the fact that "it had all turned ****** protestant!" - something I didn't understand at the time. I now realise that he'd completely missed the introduction of the novus ordo, and its contrast with the usus antiquior must have come as quite a shock.
At the time Pope John Paul II visited Westminster Cathedral, my father was helping to re-fit and refurbish the Reubens Hotel, Buckingham Palace Road. He came home that evening, and, with tears in his eyes, he recounted to me how he'd stood at the front windows of the hotel and waved as the Holy Father went past... and how the Holy Father had appeared to catch his eye as he waved back.
I know that this experience had a profound effect on my father, although I never got the chance to ask him about it - he died less than three months later.
He'd never have managed (or even tried) to get a ticket...
I have discovered that I can download episodes of various classic comedy programmes onto my iPhone... just in case the wait at the airport proved to be longer than usual!
Among my favourites are the series Yes Minister and Yes Prime Minister. The following snippet seemed rather appropriate... though, of course, we have had to endure centralised control of education for well over a decade now...
I am used to being woken up at 3am if it rains overnight, being headbutted by a faceful of wet, purring cat - he has discovered that this is the fastest way to get himself dried off.
However, he hasn't been out quite so much recently. I assumed that he was feeling his age... his whiskers have turned completely white and he's finding it harder to jump up on things.
It seems that there is more to it than simple old age. One of my neighbours has a new cat - a sleek, Siamese crossbreed. The newcomer has been asserting his territorial rights, and Sylvester (according to another neighbour) came off worst in a recent spat. No actual damage done, apart from injured pride. However, he has been top cat in the garden for quite a few years, and I suspect that his demotion has hit him hard...
Is it very wrong of me to consider lurking in the garden with a water spray...?
Even I have noticed the rise in temperature over the past few days. The mornings are still a little on the chilly side for me...
I got into my car this afternoon, after Mass and a couple of refreshing drinks (non-alcoholic in my case) in the parish club. I put one hand on the steering wheel, and found that it was actually too hot to hold... it felt as if I was in danger of burning myself quite badly...
Fortunately, I was able to pull the sleeves of my roll-neck jumper down over my hands to protect them while driving home...
...and, if it's this hot tomorrow, I might consider leaving off the t-shirt I'm currently wearing under the jumper and jacket.
I have been very touched by the response to my request for prayers... both in the com-box and over at Fr. Z's blog. I think the lesson went reasonably well, but the interview less so.
The tomato soup and cardboard ensemble performed as expected. What the students made of it was harder to assess. At least it was the lesson after lunch, so no rumbling tums to disrupt proceedings.
Unfortunately, the media clips I had inserted oh-so-carefully into my powerpoint presentation didn't actually work, something to do with the software version. Fortunately, I had remembered to save the clips separately as well, so got to show them at the end...
Tomorrow I have a job interview. Part of the process will involve teaching Year 9 about plate tectonics. I find this one of the most boring topics on the specification: I much prefer torturing jelly babies...
In an attempt to liven things up, I have planned a demonstration. When I tell you that this involves pieces of cardboard and a pan of tomato soup, you will appreciate that tomorrow could be a trifle fraught. Prayers would be welcome.
I will be providing my own tomato soup, to ensure the correct viscosity... as well as practicing my pronunciation of Eyjafjallajokull... ah-ya-fyah... aye-ya-fee-ya... ay-yor-feh... that Icelandic volcano...
The annual Parish Pilgrimage to Lourdes is coming up. I have to admit that my usual excitement at the prospect of spending a week in Lourdes is somewhat muted by the knowledge that the Icelandic volcano under the Eyjafjallajokull glacier is still merrily belching out ash, which may or may not result in flight cancellations, and British Airways cabin crews may or may not be out on strike...
However, if we're lucky, in two weeks' time I shall be praying for you all at the Grotto at Massabielle. I love Lourdes.
Last year we managed to celebrate Mass in the crypt of the parish church in Lourdes. This year we are lucky enough to have arranged two Masses there. We shall also have two Masses in the Domaine - one Mass will be in the St. Gabriel Chapel (an old favourite, next to the Crypt Chapel) and the other will be in the Chapelle Croix Glorieuse. This is a new chapel - so new, in fact, that it doesn't feature anywhere on the Lourdes Sanctuaires website.
I have been told that the chapel is near the Way of the Cross, but that's all I know. I am just praying that it doesn't in any way resemble the St. Patrick Chapel. That chapel resembled a large cupboard... or possibly a small garage... and was the deciding factor in His Hermeneuticalness' decision to run the pilgrimage ourselves, rather than using tour operators who thought it acceptable to arrange to celebrate Masses in cupboards simply because the cupboard had been named after a saint...
This year I shall have my snazzy camera with me. I am toying with the idea of bringing my monopod, but it'll be a bit of a hassle to carry it everywhere. I shall be armed with an 8GB memory card as well, so I should manage to get a few little photos for the blog...
This has to be one of the most horrible stories I've read... I thought that, in China, if the baby managed to take a breath, then it was classed as a person and had the right to life - which was why, in cases of "illegal" second pregnancies, they had the practice of injecting formaldehyde into the baby's head just as it crowned, so that the child would be born dead.
I posted the Blood Money trailer back in September of last year, but it bears a repeat showing. Fr. John Boyle received an email about it today, and apparently the producers need people to visit the website so they can demonstrate interest.
Fr Gonzales (of Overheard in the Sacristy fame) posted the following photo, which made me smile. I would just like to point out to His Hermeneuticalness that the phone in question is not a clunky Android phone, but a super-sleek iPhone...
Fr. Gonzales also posted the Holy Father's text number. I hope it's true... I shall try it out tomorrow (after all, it's 10:45pm over there now, so it's a little late to be getting text messages from strange women...)
I do occasionally stumble upon new blogs (ok, new-to-me) without having received a heads-up in the com-box or a plea to be included on the blogroll.
The Noise of the Crusadeis a new blog - it appears to have been started in April - and there is no information on Last Knight, the author... not even location or sex. From the subject matter, I shall assume that the Knight is male, unless he informs me otherwise... and the current blogroll (on which I am honoured to be included amongst very august company) seems to indicate that he may hail from Albion's shores...
Autumn asked me to publicise her two blogs and to add them to my blogroll. After checking her out (she's a wife, mother, grandmother, homemaker, and still has time to update two blogs!!? I'm doing something wrong!) I am happy to recommend both of them.
I vaguely recall Autumn as "Autumn Rose" - her main blog URL seems familiar - but I suspect she got culled in a previous existence... I get rather ruthless about cutting out dead or inactive blogs from my blogroll, sometimes too much so!
Anyway, she's got lots of fascinating stuff, and her talents in the cakemaking realm leave me utterly speechless (and drooling... definitely drooling!)
So, go and visit Life on the Home Front if you want to know about cakes, homemaking, war-time recipes and other stuff, and Autumn's Leaves for musings on life, the universe and everything else... and be sure to tell her that I sent you!
Taking full advantage of having my car back, I popped over to see a friend this evening. She hadn't eaten, and so she ordered a pizza, while we both settled down to watch Shrek 3 (a little mindless entertainment at the end of a hard week!)
