Friday 19 September 2008

Another New Arrival...

Prayers are needed, please.

My sister gave birth to her second child this lunchtime.  It's a boy, and he's a good 7 lbs despite being about three and a half weeks early!

My sister is in hospital for observation, as her blood pressure is a little high, and they want to keep an eye on my new nephew too, just to be on the safe side.

No name yet, but hopefully they won't name this one after a drink!

"New" Blog On The Block

The Cellarer has commented here once or twice.  Today I spotted that he has a blog, fairly new as well: How the West was Lost.  I'm assuming that it is indeed a "he" by virtue of the fact that there is a gorgeous picture of a mini-Cellarer with the comment that the mum was doing well...

Pop on over and say hallo!

Burdensome Talk...

Driving back home after a very tiring week, I switched on the radio.  Bad move.  I got to hear Baroness Warnock declaring that people suffering from dementia should, if they do not wish to be a burden on their families, be allowed to commit suicide.

The Baroness then followed this up by stating that, not only should they be allowed to make this choice, but that in fact they had a duty not to be a burden, financially or emotionally, on their loved ones... and also they should not be allowed to be a drain on the resources of the NHS.

And then, of course, it was made clear that, according to the good Baroness, people with dementia are not able to make that decision for themselves by the time they become "burdensome" and so there should be research to determine at exactly what time sufferers from dementia are to be considered as no longer responsible for making their own decisions...

She was vehement in protesting that she only wanted this to apply to dementia patients.  But, to be frank, if one were to take the arguments of the Baroness seriously, and follow them to their logical conclusion, then it would not be possible to stop at dementia sufferers, as anyone with a debilitating disease which was a drain on limited NHS resources, or anyone who was considered to be a "burden" by their nearest and dearest should be considered fair game.  And if they were no longer compos mentis, then someone would just have to take the decision for them...

Listening to the Baroness talking was a terrifying experience, as she seemed to have no idea that what she proposed was already demonstrating a slippery slope, from a person not wanting to be a burden, to a person who should not allow themselves to be a burden, and then to a person who, by virtue of being unable to speak for themselves, would be considered a burden and disposed of accordingly... to save the financial resources of the state.

A burden.

Whatever happened to "Honour your father and your mother, that you may live long in the land that the Lord your God gives to you..."?

Wednesday 17 September 2008

Sulking...

I was clearing away a few things in the Sacristy yesterday, and overheard His Hermeneuticalness telling our deacon that he now had a better phone than mine... it did everything that my phone did, and a bit more, and it was smaller...

I wasn't going to let that sort of statement pass unchallenged, and promptly sent Fr. Tim into the presbytery to get his phone.  I wanted proof.

Alas, on inspection, the statement was borne out.  The phone is much smaller and sleeker... the camera is 3.2 MP as opposed to my 3.0 MP and it even has the same sat-nav software...

He's having problems getting it to synchronise with his PC though...

Heheheheheheh...


Monday 15 September 2008

Stress...

It's been a pretty hectic day.  I was running a little late this morning, so only squeeked in at 8am.  Then there was a queue for the photocopier... and, horror of horrors, I discovered that I'd left my precious photocopy card at home.  Luckily, the lady in resources took pity on me, and gave me a new card.  I did have to sign my life away in order to get it, but I'll grovel to the Head of Science later.

I taught two lessons on the trot, and then had my weekly break duty... last year I was blessed with a cushy English corridor number, this year I'm outside: but it's the small patch just outside the science classrooms and part of the staff car park, so not too problematic.  I suspect I will get very cold and wet over the next few months.

Unfortunately, break duty was followed by a cover lesson, and I was positively gasping for a coffee by the end of it.  It wasn't too bad... I found that I had taught most of the kids in that class the year before, so they didn't play up.  Fourth lesson was taken up with ordering equipment for all my lessons during the coming week (unlike many other subjects, Science lessons have to be planned well in advance, as the technicians have to check equipment availability.)

I spent lunch preparing for another lesson (the work I'd hoped to get done the previous evening) and then a bit more teaching.  Then, at 3:30pm, I was able to settle down to some marking...  unfortunately, children keep coming in to the Science Faculty office, as do other teachers, and the phone is pretty constant... and my desk is right next to the phone, so guess who's job it is to answer it and take messages...

The Head of Science came in and told us we were to expect to be visited by an Ofsted inspector on Thursday and Friday.  We're not due for an inspection, but our school is doing something or other on "creative schools" whatever they are, which means we get the joy of more people coming in to inspect us.  So, we all need to have lesson plans, "just in case"...

By 6pm when the caretaker came round to throw me out, I'd finished a pile of books and planned a few A Level lessons.  I figured that a 10-hour day was more than enough, and didn't take anything with me.

I had a few things to do on my way home, so, by the time I reached my front door, I was pretty tired.  I opened the door and suddenly realised that there was a strange beeping noise...

My first thought was that one of my alarm clocks had gotten itself stuck... and then an ear-splitting siren went off: the burglar alarm!

Now, I have never used the burglar alarm, because Sylvester walking about would set off the extremely sensitive motion sensors.  I explained this to my landlord when I moved in, and he was happy enough for me to leave the thing switched off.

The noise was getting worse, and I had no idea what the code was.  My heart was racing, and I was sure that I was about to be stormed by hoards of policemen demanding proof that this was indeed my flat!  I tried to phone my landlord on my landline, but that was dead!  Then I had a brainwave: I went outside and phoned him on my mobile. He didn't know what the code was... but, luckily, his wife did!

It seems that there had been a major power cut in our area during the day, which had tripped several alarms, including mine. I was confused, because I knew there had been a few power cuts since my arrival, and the alarm had never gone off... but my landlady said that the battery was probably low, so that it wasn't able to switch to battery backup when the electricity supply went off.  And the power cut caused the phones to go down (no idea how that works!!)

My pulse rate is now almost back to normal, the cat has calmed down (poor thing didn't come home until I went and called him, and he was extremely jumpy!) and I feel as though I've been put through a wringer.  A soothing glass of muscle relaxant might be just what the doctor ordered!

Small World...

At the launch of Usus Antiquior yesterday, I was chatting to a young man who explained that he had changed jobs because he'd moved to the Orkneys, and the commute from Leeds was ghastly! I can't remember the exact reason it came up, but he mentioned a friend of his who had moved to the Orkneys from Alaska, who had married a farmer...

I asked if she had a blog, as there was something vaguely familiar about the foreigner-marries-farmer scenario...

Apparently the friend did have a blog, but he couldn't remember the name...

"The blogger I'm thinking of, her husband's got a weird name... begins with "E"..."

"Erlend?"

Eureka.  I was right... turns out that she's the Coffee Catholic.  But how spooky is that... two complete strangers just happen to mention a person they both know!

Sunday 14 September 2008

Usus Antiquior

Cardinal Darío Castrillón Hoyos, President of the Pontifical Commission Ecclesia Dei, today welcomed the launch of a new scholarly journal, Usus Antiquior in a message to the editors.

Noting ‘launching of the journal Usus Antiquior which is intended for the promotion of the study of the classical Roman rite from historical, philosophical, theological and pastoral perspectives’ he concludes his desire for success of the Journal, and its concern for all forms of the Roman Rite in current use because ‘as our Holy Father has indicated, the two forms of the Roman rite “can be mutually enriching”.’

Opening the launch, Dr. Susan Parsons, of the Society of St. Catherine of Siena, said, ‘It is of course on this Feast, the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, that Benedict XVI’s Summorum Pontificum was promulgated one year ago. No day could be more appropriate than this to set out upon this venture’. Announced ten weeks ago and launched only today, the Journal has already more than 350 potential subscribers including UK seminaries.

The editors of Usus Antiquior are Laurence Paul Hemming and Alcuin Reid. Hemming, an academic philosopher, is recently the author of ‘Worship as a Revelation’ (London, Continuum) as well as a brief study of Benedict XVI: Reid, a contributor to The Tablet and The Catholic Herald, published the seminal ‘The Organic Development of the Liturgy’ in 2005 and is presently working on a successor volume discussing the liturgical reform beginning with Vatican II.

The Editors can be contacted by email.  The journal's website has details of how to donate money for the start-up of the journal, and how to become a subscriber.  The Society of St. Catherine of Sienna, which is responsible for founding the journal, also has a website. And don't forget, as well as financial support, this great new initiative needs our prayers.

Being Good... It Doesn't Pay!!

Today, I went to the "launch" of the journal Usus Antiquior at the Brompton Oratory.  I felt a bit naughty doing this, as I still had some work to do for school - lesson preparation: book marking is something I try not to do at home!  And then I decided that it was Sunday, and I'd had a busy week, and a nice drive into London on a sunny Sunday afternoon, with Solemn Vespers (for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross) would be just the thing... 

However, I thought that I would be very good, and not stay late...

The journey in was fabulous.  The roads were clear, the sun was shining, and I even found a parking space just opposite the Oratory... 

Vespers was pretty amazing.  I wanted to take pictures, but there were lots of signs saying "no cameras, or else" or words to that effect.  I thought I'd better be good.  There were several people I knew in the congregation, and I had a brief chat with some of them outside afterwards.  I was introduced to a couple of Oratorians as Mulier Fortis, and was gratified by the gleam of recognition... they also told me that no-one would have minded me taking photos, which was annoying, as the Oratory is quite an eyeful!

The launch was fun, apart from the fact that I was drinking fizzy water rather than wine, but I was driving, so I had to be good.

His Hermeneuticalness was present, as was the non-blogging-but-ubiquitous Parish Priest of Chislehurst, Fr. Charles Briggs.  Fr. Guy Nicholls, another non-blogging priest who appears pretty regularly on the blogosphere (mostly on Jackie's blog!) was there as well.  And, of course, the inimitable Fr. Z... I actually heard him tell someone that he was "Fr. Zed" so the English pronunciation must be growing on him...

People wanted to go and eat.  I was still determined to be good, but the name of what sounded like a nearby pub was mentioned, and I thought I'd stay for a coca-cola and maybe a bowl of chips... alas, it turned out that the establishment was actually a hotel restaurant, and not the sort of place where one would just have chips... and I really didn't want to stay for a proper meal, as I knew I'd get caught up in the good conversation and company, and would get back far too late...

So, after staying for a brief chat, I made my excuses and left.

I negotiated the Brompton Road, Knightsbridge and Victoria without mishap. I arrived at Parliament Square, and promptly got snaffled in a traffic jam.  A very bad traffic jam. Unfortunately, I only discovered the reason for the traffic jam after I had committed to going towards Victoria Embankment... the road had been completely closed.

No diversion signs, no warnings, just a major route across London shut.

Not a problem, I thought, and proceeded to try and take a few back routes I knew, hoping to join my preferred route home a bit further along.

Not a chance.  All the side roads were cordoned off.  And I mean all the side roads...

The traffic was horrendous, and there was no way out.  You just had to go with the flow.  The problem was, I had no idea where the flow was going. London is not noted for clear signposts. They took them down in the war, to foil attempts at invasion by German parachutists, and never put them back up again, presumably on the basis that, "If you don't know where you are, you shouldn't be here, so clear off!"  In addition, my knowledge of Geography is laughable.

The traffic was murderously slow, which gave me the opportunity to notice that I had visited the same one-way system at least three times in the space of an hour and a quarter.  I was beginning to panic when I had a brainwave: my phone has sat-nav!!

Apart from one sticky moment, when it tried to make me do an illegal right turn, the sat-nav succeeded in directing me to the A13 which leads to the Blackwall Tunnel... (I re-visited that one-way system again, only this time the sat-nav was able to tell me where I should turn off!) and I finally arrived home...

...after a journey which took me three hours.

Being good isn't all it's cracked up to be...
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