Solemn Vespers At The Oratory...

This is one of those weekends - becoming more frequent, Deo gratias - where those with a traditional leaning are spoilt for choice. Cardinal Burke is visiting the London Oratory, and there are Ordinations for the Ordinariate at Westminster Cathedral (at which John Hunwicke is to be ordained deacon at long last!) There are a few other things happening as well - the Reluctant Sinner has more details on his blog.

Having decided that I really couldn't spare the time on Saturday to trek up to London, I decided to make the supreme effort to attend Vespers at the Oratory this evening instead. Cardinal Burke was to be there and there would be Pontifical Benediction after Vespers.

After a very trying day I was tempted to head straight home, but resisted! I'm very glad that I did - it was rather wonderful. Five-Cope Vespers, no less, and a Cardinal at the Throne!! I even got there early enough to get permission to take photos - after promising that my camera was silent and I wouldn't use a flash... they were much more understanding than at Westminster Cathedral!

I spotted a few familiar faces, though I'm sure several regulars are actually off on their way to Chartres. I nearly plucked up the courage to introduce myself to Fr. James Bradley, but he was deep in conversation and I thought I'd spare him the mad-Catholic-lady ordeal!

If you are in London for any of the events mentioned, do have a wonderful time...

Miaowrini's Sulking...

I was planning to have a well-deserved and very rare "early night" curled up under the duvet with my kindle. I heard a loud commotion from the catflap, and realised that something large was being dragged in.

I was right - Monsignor Miaowrini had caught a pigeon which was almost as large as herself. While hunting in the airing cupboard for a towel to throw over the pigeon, I saw Miaowrini's pigeon-handling technique in action. She's really rather good at it - sitting astride the bird, she grabbed its neck in her mouth and then "duck-walked" it into the living room. She then held it down with her paws and spat out a few feathers, presumably preparatory to taking a large chunk out of the bird.

Sadly for Miaowrini, I had succeeded in finding a towel by this point, and used it to scoop the pigeon up out of harm's way. Miaowrini was still in the living room, literally spitting feathers, as I held the bird out of my bedroom window, and let it fly off.

We've been free of wildlife for a while, and I had hoped that the hunting season for pigeons was over for this year (I assumed that it was the younger, more inexperienced birds which were being nabbed!) It seems that I was wrong. Watch this space for further developments!

Our Lady's Month...

I was running a little late on Sunday morning, and didn't make it to church in time for the crowning of Our Lady's statue after the 9am Mass, though the floral crown did look rather good. Nevertheless, I wanted to get the picture up on the blog. Enjoy!

Green Eggs Without The Ham...

Apologies to Dr Seuss! Annie Elizabeth very kindly presented me with a box of newly-laid eggs. Her hens lay eggs of varying colours, the most unusual (in my limited experience) being a greyish green.

I am about to turn two of them into fried egg sandwiches, as I haven't yet had lunch. I meant to have lunch much earlier, but gave in to the temptation of watching the England v Windies match being shown in the parish club (with Zephyrinus and Greg providing commentary as to the fielding positions and the effects of weather on the number of men generally in the slips.) Then I had to go and get some of my rubbish delivered to the Re(f)use & Recycling Centre before it closed.

I then made the mistake of sitting down for five minutes, and was promptly pounced upon by Monsignor Furretti, who is most definitely a lap-cat. With my generous proportions there isn't much in the way of lap, but Furretti managed to insinuate herself onto what little there was...

Now those egg sandwiches are really calling me...

'Tis The Season To Be Wet...

The jury is still out on whether the rather more than slightly damp conditions started as soon as the drought was declared and a hosepipe ban brought into play, or whether it was due to the cricket season getting under way. I favour the latter explanation.

I still hope to be able to get to see my first "real" (ie. not on TV/radio) cricket match sometime soon... possibly in the summer holidays, if it isn't droughting it down cats and dogs. In the meantime, there is an excellent summary of cricketing mythology over at Husborne Crawley, courtesy of the Archdruid.

Free Speech Only Allowed If It Doesn't Offend...?

I don't normally read non-Catholic blogs. My free time is limited, and I don't manage to read all the Catholic stuff I'd like to get through, so it's a matter of prioritising. Two exceptions to this are the Beaker Folk of Husborne Crawley - the Archdruid Eileen and her crowd nearly always make me smile, even when getting serious points across - and also Archbishop Cranmer.

The Archbishop, although long-dead, is being pursued by the Advertising Standards Authority for daring to run the following advertisement.

I fail to see anything offensive in it.

The advert is at least as inoffensive as the "Some people are gay. Get over it" adverts that were run on the buses (without any problems suggested by the ASA) a short while ago. I suspect that the ASA received rather more complaints about the "Some people are gay" advert than the 10 received regarding the C4M advert on Cranmer's blog. The bus adverts were not withdrawn. The phrase "What's good for the goose is good for the gander" seems to apply here - especially as the advert in question is merely asking for people to support the traditional (and true) meaning of marriage as understood over at least the past two millennia, if not longer.

National "Offend A Feminist" Week...?

A twitch of the mantilla is owed to the inimitable Fr. Z for highlighting this one! I hadn't heard of it before, but I'd love to add my support.

The majority of self-professed feminists I've encountered in my life seem to believe that equality of the sexes means unisex. Well, sisters (and the rather wimpish brothers who tag along) I regret to tell you that biologically there is no such thing as unisex. Men and women are NOT the same. We are adapted for different roles, and no amount of legislation will ever be able to overcome this. Women are designed for bearing children, men are not. And our biology has an effect on the way we think too. Our brains are just wired differently.

This is not to say that one sex is better than another, it just means that each sex is better at some things than the other.

And yes, I know there are exceptions.

So, here is my contribution:

How many feminists does it take to change a lightbulb?

ONE ! And it ISN'T funny...!

Idle Curiosity & Points To Ponder...

Is it just me whose first thought on hearing that François Hollande had been elected as French President was whether his parents had wanted him to have an identity crisis?

And am I the only person to be unable to avoid sniggering when reading that the CIA has discovered a bomb which bore "all the hallmarks" of the 2009 underwear bomb...?

Ah. Ok. Just me then.

Oh well, the kids at school will be chortling about the dinosaurs. They already find the fact that cows breaking wind counts as greenhouse gas emissions highly amusing...

Why...?

Why is it that I never write things down when I think of them, but rely on my increasingly unreliable memory? I had several ideas about which I intended to blog today, and now I can't remember any of them...

Delayed Gratification...

I blogged about having passed my half million hits mark a short while ago, and reminded the delightful Zephyrinus that he'd promised me a bottle of something bubbly with which to celebrate. I failed to remind him that this had been over a year ago (I've had a bit of a blogging block, so it's taken me longer than anticipated!)

Nevertheless, this morning Zephyrinus presented me with a rather nice bottle of fizzy stuff. And no, it wasn't my usual tipple of coca cola (though I had some of that after Mass today)...

Thank you Zephy! I shall drink a toast to your very good health...

LMS One-Day Conference 9 June 2012

On Saturday 9th June 2012, the Latin Mass Society is holding a one-day conference at Regent Hall, Oxford Street, London.

It's the first time the LMS has organised a one-day conference, and they have invited some excellent speakers. The conference is aimed principally at ordinary LMS members, although non-members are very welcome to join them.

For those who would like to attend Mass, there will be a Low Mass at St. James' Church, Spanish Place (which is very close to the conference venue.)

Doors open for registration and browsing of stalls at 10am, and the first talk, by Dr. John Rao (Director of the Roman Forum) starts at 11am. Stuart McCullough (Good Counsel Network) is the second speaker. After lunch, Fr. John Zuhlsdorf (WDTPRS), Fr. Tim Finigan (Hermeneutic of Continuity) and John Hunwicke are due to speak.

Admission is by ticket only, but these can be obtained by phoning the LMS office, sending a cheque or booking online. Further details can be found on the LMS website.

It is an impressive line-up, and I am really looking forward to it (though I wish it could have been at the beginning of half term rather than the end!)

Another Plug...

I'm delighted to see that Jane Mossendew of the Catholic Oasis has had a pamphlet published by the Catholic Truth Society. Called Gardening for God, it's a spiritual and practical guide to gardening.

I love the idea of a prayer garden. Unfortunately I am not good gardener material - not so much a lack of green-fingers as possession of positively black ones. It took me quite a while to realise that the red-flowered pot plant I had was losing its flowers and leaves because of the gastronomic activities of my cat, Sylvester! I have no idea how the Monsignori would react to a pot plant, but I suspect that they would view it as the latest thing in salad bars...

Although I am not a gardener, I am very happy to enjoy the fruits of other people's labours, so I would encourage all you gardening enthusiasts out there to get Jane's pamphlet...

Time For A Plug...

To my consternation and everlasting shame, I realise that I have failed to include the excellent Etheldreda's Place on my blogroll. Written by Supertradmum, it is truly a Traditional Catholic Blog, and well-worth reading.

My only excuse is that I didn't realise she wasn't on the blogroll because she was in my Google Reader list...

Something To Celebrate...

It seems that the Irish Parliament voted overwhelmingly to reject a Bill which would have allowed the abortion up to birth to save the life of the mother.

It can be seen in the UK how that law would have degenerated. From being to save the the "life" of the mother it would have morphed into saving the "mental health" of the mother... and would actually come to mean whenever a mother wanted it.

The defeat is truly good news, which, surprisingly, doesn't seem to have hit the mainstream media...

Twitch of the mantilla to those wonderful Sisters of the Gospel of Life (more of those "proper" sisters I've been on about!)

More "Proper" Nuns...

I've written very briefly about the feminist-fruitcakes of the LCWR (I can't bear to describe their antics, but Fr. Z has plenty of examples.)

The problem is that it's the nutcases which attract attention. There are plenty of religious sisters who do wonderful work, and the ones who are faithful to the Church's Magisterium tend to be the orders which are flourishing. They also tend to be the orders which don't attract much in the way of media attention: "Nuns faithful to vows!" and "Sisters do good work for poor!" aren't the most gripping of headlines...

But we do need to make sure that these "proper" nuns get their share of attention, especially when it comes to promoting their charitable work.

This evening after Mass we had a visit from a Sister of St. Elisabeth's Convent, Belarus. The charitable works covered by this order of Orthodox Nuns are truly remarkable - they seem to help everyone from drug and alcohol addicts to orphans, from sufferers of mental disorders to ex-prisoners. As well as practical assistance, they offer spiritual support and prayer too.

If you want to support the work of the St. Elisabeth Convent, do have a look at their website and especially their online shop.

Credit Where It's Due...

I have been quick enough to criticise the Catholic Education Service of England & Wales in the past, and feel, in the light of recent events, that I ought to send some positive comments its way.

The CESEW is coming under fire for daring to encourage support in Catholic schools for the petition in favour of the traditional view of marriage.

Secularists are getting their collective knickers in a twist because the Catholic Education Service is daring to advise Catholic schools to support Catholic teaching on marriage.*

I can see why they would be shocked. After all, the CESEW hasn't exactly made a name for itself speaking up for Church teaching in the past. I detect a sense of outrage among the secularists that this body should suddenly "go native" and revert to orthodox Catholicism. Maybe getting rid of Oona Stannard wasn't just cosmetic.

Before I get a spate of comments telling me how bigoted the stance of the Catholic Church is against equality for gays, I would just like to point out that civil partnerships already give homosexual couples every legal protection and advantage (or lack of it) afforded to heterosexual couples. This is not about equal rights for gays. This is about the right for people to define marriage as the union of one man and one woman for the purposes of procreation and bringing up of children. This right is under attack: if the secularists get their way it will be illegal for faith schools to teach this.

Megan Moore and Michael Merrick have each written excellent posts on this topic. Do check them out

*Actually it's not just Catholic teaching. It affects the whole of society...

Nun Of That Nonsense, Thank You...

Sorry about the post title. It was either that or "Nuns on the Run", so I think you'll forgive me...

There is a bit of a kerfuffle across the pond among the leaders of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) because the investigations by the CDF and the American Bishops have concluded that the sisters have pretty much lost the plot, doctrinally-speaking.

They're not being criticised for their good works, or stuff like that. They're finally being held to account for the lack of fidelity to Church teaching. When you have groups of nuns advocating the ordination of women or acting as client escorts at abortion clinics, then it is pretty obvious that something is very, very wrong.

Of course, in true feminist fashion, the LCWR is protesting against this discrimination by a male hierarchy. After all, it is soooo unfair to expect religious orders to follow Church teaching... They mobilised some support, and their supporters decided to start a twitter hashtag: #whatsistersmeantome. Unfortunately the vast majority of faithful Catholics think that the LCWR is long overdue a reality-check, and can't help comparing the angry, bitter, liberal nun-types with more traditional and faithful orders of nuns.

With the encouragement of Fr. Z, people started to use the hashtag to give examples of true religious vocations, sisters who have been canonised, religious orders which are flourishing... and all of them have one thing in common: fidelity to the Magisterium of the Church...

Proper nuns - the Fransiscan Sisters of the Immaculate

The British Preoccupation With Weather...

The British are supposed to be totally fixated on the weather. It is a sort of national characteristic, rather as the Germans are thought to be well-organised early-risers and the French are supposed to be onion-selling cyclists. Foreign language lessons in British schools seems to bear this out - the weather conditions seem to feature heavily in all the language textbooks I've ever seen during cover lessons...

Several years ago I decided that the British preoccupation with weather resulted from the fact that we had so much of it. As an island with a temperate climate, one expects to have seasons. However, we do seem to be rather prone to having four seasons' worth of weather in the space of a week, and occasionally we get the lot in just one day. Speculation on the weather conditions therefore can occur at several points during the day, and the conclusions will not necessarily be the same in the afternoon as they were in the morning.

Given the vagaries of the British weather, you'd think we could cope with pretty much anything nature decided to throw at us, outside anything actually cataclysmic. This is far from being the case. Whatever the weather conditions, you can guarantee the British will be taken by surprise.

Snow is always a good one. It snows here most years, round about winter time, for about a week. It has been known to snow as late as April or as early as November, When the snow actually falls is immaterial, as is the length of time the weather forecasters have been warning of its arrival. For the week that the snow falls, the country grinds to a halt. The explanations are varied, but generally boil down to "nothing worked because it was the wrong type of snow."

I said we had seasons. Britain has a lot of trees, and in Autumn all the deciduous trees shed their leaves. This is a fascinating process, and it is also predictable. However, the rail network has more than once ground to a halt because of "leaves on the lines." Not whole trees, mind you. Just some wet leaves. The wrong type of leaves, you understand...

We do get some good weather. But as soon as the sun shines for more than a week, we hit problems. At the moment, we have drought warnings all over the south of England. There is a hosepipe ban in force. The fact that this is turning into the wettest April for goodness knows how long (with flood warnings being issued left, right and centre) is immaterial - it is, apparently, the wrong type of rain...

We are all guilty of using too much water, according to the water companies, and we have depleted the reservoirs and the water table by our indiscriminate washing of ourselves, our clothes and our cars. We also waste far too much on our gardens. The amount of water lost through the water companies' neglect of leaky pipe networks is totally negligible... according to the water companies, that is.

I'm the first person to admit that my knowledge of Geography is sketchy. However, last time I looked at a map, Britain was an island nation. Islands are, by definition, surrounded by large quantities of wet stuff. Surely it is not beyond the wit of Man to desalinate some of the stuff and stick it in some reservoirs? Or is that too simple a proposition?

In the meantime, I have two disgruntled Monsignori staring out of the catflap, trying to avoid looking like this...

Existentialist Angst...

The inimitable Fr. Z sent me a couple of YouTube video links which he thought might amuse me. Henri the cat has a hard life, and ponders the meaning of his existence...

There is also a sequel...

The look of withering contempt given by Henri to the camera is one I see on the face of Monsignor Furretti quite regularly. Maybe it is something to do with being long-haired? Certainly it is not an expression I have observed on Monsignor Miaowrini's face... she is much more likely to be "begging for cheeseburgers" - or rather, for smoked salmon...

From the sublime to the ridiculous. His Hermeneuticalness has been poaching on my territory, posting a picture of a "cat sandwich" - cats with bread on their heads being, apparently, the latest internet craze. I can't see either of the Monsignori being keen on that one.

I wouldn't dream of subjecting my two kitties to such indignities. And anyway, a slice of wholemeal bread is remarkably difficult to balance on a cat's head...

A Celebration Of St. George

We celebrated the Feast of St. George in style at Blackfen. I didn't take photos during Mass as I was singing.

One of the senior servers decided to take the MC's strictures on long black socks to heart, and opted to get his from Gammarelli's in Rome...

After the Missa Cantata at Blackfen, a few of us decided to go for a few drinks at a local hostelry, where we found several St. Georges outnumbering a solitary dragon.

Snacks of Yorkshire puddings with roast beef were brought round for our delectation... sadly we appeared to have missed the Morris Dancers...

St. George & That Dragon...

Someone asked me earlier today whether there really was a dragon slayed by St. George. The implication was that, since church statues always depict St. George with a dragon, then, if the dragon did not really exist, then neither did St. George.

Aha! cries the sceptic: Another myth of the medieval church debunked... and so one can't believe anything that the Church says about saints and miracles...

First of all, I would urge caution about debunking medieval myths. Like the one about St. Peter being buried under St. Peter's in Rome... which turned out to be true... or the one about St. Paul being buried in St. Paul outside the walls... which turned out to be true...

Secondly, there is always the possibility that the dragon is a metaphor - a picturesque depiction of sin or the devil - and it is quite possible that St. George overcame something of that sort, no?

Whatever. The truth of the matter is that, whether it was a real dragon or only a metaphorical one, I don't actually care. St. George is a saint of the Church, and the patron saint of the country in which I was born and in which I live... and tomorrow is his feast day. Personally I think it ought to be a Bank Holiday, but no doubt some Governmental bean-counters would object to "yet another" Bank Holiday on economic grounds, ignoring the fact that working more days for longer hours doesn't actually mean one is more productive.

I shall at least have the opportunity to go to Mass for the feast day...

It's Not A Numbers Game...

I know, I know. The stats are unimportant. I would still blog even if no-one read what I wrote, simply because it means that I can voice my opinions, and not impose them on anyone else. After all, I don't force people to read my blog. They can always go elsewhere if they don't like my opinions.

But it is encouraging to think that people are actually interested enough to click on a link to see what I'm up to. My sporadic posting has lost me rather a lot of readers, but around 250 people a day have stuck with me despite it all, and when I actually post something, the numbers go up.

I'm a very small-time blogger. Nowhere near, for example, either His Hermeneuticalness, the lovely Fr. Blake or the incomparable Fr. Z. But I don't have any official role in the Church - and my opinions are just my own, without any authority behind them, so it's quite touching to find out that people want to read what I write. Admittedly I might be getting more readers for the kitty updates than for my views on religious matters.

With that in mind, I've just noticed that I've passed the half a million visits milestone - it took six years. I'm determined to have my Million Hits party well before 2018. Oh, and Zephyrinus... you now owe me a bottle of something bubbly (and washing-up liquid doesn't count!)

And yes, I know I said that stats are unimportant. But I took a perverse pleasure in noting that, on Twitter at least, I have more followers than the editor of The Suppository (aka The Bitter Pill)...

I tweet as @MulierFortis

Requiem For Fr. Pyle...

One of the customs which I have only encountered since attending the Extraordinary Form of Mass is that of having a full Requiem Mass with Absolutions at the Catafalque.

I have been at Novus Ordo Masses which have been offered for the intentions of the deceased person, of course, but in these it seems that the intention is "tacked on" to the Mass being offered anyway. The readings are those of the day, saints and seasons are commemorated as normal - the only thing that tells you that we're praying for a dead person's soul is the Mass intention printed in the bulletin or announced by the priest.

Obviously the actual funeral Mass is for the deceased person's soul... though sometimes there is far too much emphasis on celebrating the person's life, and not enough recognition that the person concerned is now undergoing the purification of Purgatory and is in desperate need of our prayers. I'm not being morbid in this reflection - just practical. St. Bernadette was concerned that people would be so busy thinking her a saint that they would forget to offer prayers for her soul... and she would be "cooking" in Purgatory. If such a great saint expected Purgatory, the rest of us really should prepare to go there too!

There is something very moving about having a Requiem Mass in the Extraordinary Form, especially on a person's anniversary. Today was the anniversary of the death of Fr. Tony Pyle, the previous Parish Priest at Our Lady of the Rosary, Blackfen, and so we had a Missa Cantata. It was beautiful. Yes, I know Mass is always beautiful... but sometimes it hits you more than at other times.

I wonder how many parishes get to have Mass regularly for the souls of former parish priests? We can take our priests for granted, I think, expecting them to be there for us whenever we want the Sacraments, to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass on our behalf... and perhaps we need to pray more for them in return. How often have you prayed for the priest who baptised you? Or the one who heard your first Confession? I know I hardly give them a passing thought, but without them, I wouldn't be here now...

Just something to ponder...

If you're interested, a few more photos from the Requiem can be found on my Flickr page.

Seven Years On...

It's now the seventh anniversary of the Holy Father's election to the throne of St. Peter. As you can see from the photo above, this was not a popular result...

I heard a few reports (from the more liberal wing of the Church) that the Pope was so old, he couldn't possibly last long, he was just a "caretaker" until they could get a "better" candidate. Seven years on, I just want to say these words to the naysayers - "Summorum Pontificum, Universae Ecclesiae, corrected ICEL translation, Ordinariate and SSPX!"

Well, actually I also want to add "Hah! So there!"

Not that I'm being triumphalistic or anything...

But I do sincerely hope we get to sing a few verses of "God bless our Pope" after Benediction this evening.

I wasn't blogging when the Pope was elected, but I have posted my memories of the event - last year, the year before (the fifth anniversary) and the third anniversary. It's worth going back and having a look to read the comments - which is why I'm not simply cut-and-pasting!

If you didn't get a chance to share your memories before, do feel free to comment this time around!

God bless our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI... and ad multos annos!

Thuribles At Dawn...

Oh dear. The challenge has been issued. The inimitable Fr. Z has suggested that His Hermeneuticalness is notoriously bad at incensation, because of the need for fire drills among the servers. His Hermeneuticalness has countered by asking Fr. Z to choose his weapons... himself opting for a Heckler & Koch MP5.

...I'd have thought an MP3 player would be better for reproducing the clinking sound, but then I'm just a blonde girly so I've probably got the wrong end of the stick...

However, I think that Fr. Z has failed to consider the need to train servers in fire-fighting technique. Some of those servers wield a mean thurible. Ever wondered why we don't have a carpet on the sanctuary at Blackfen...?

I can confirm that Fr. Tim has, on occasion, had to step back rather sharply to avoid concussion.

It might also be noted that Fr. Z is being just a tad disingenuous. He has had first-hand experience of His Hermeneuticalness' techniques with the thurible...

...as well as demonstrating his own proficiency...

...and, as my photographic evidence confirms, Fr. Z resisted the impulse to "take out" His Hermeneuticalness despite the obvious opportunity offered to the deacon at High Mass. Sadly, I cannot recall whether there was much in the way of clinking. Next time I shall have to video proceedings!

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...

Palm Sunday At Blackfen...

We were extremely fortunate to be able to have a Solemn High Mass for Palm Sunday. The Palm Sunday liturgy isn't for the faint-hearted, though - with the blessing of palms, the outdoor procession and the chanting of the St. Matthew Passion it is just over two and a half hours long. It's such an amazing visual and aural feast that it doesn't feel like it's that long, but it does require some advance planning for lunch...

The photos are just a little late in getting uploaded - actually, I did upload them a few days ago, but needed the Senior MC to check my descriptions. Using two cameras, one on BST and one on GMT, meant that the photo order got a little muddled. However, you can see a few more over on my Flickr page.

Tenebrae...

It has become something of a custom at Our Lady of the Rosary, Blackfen, to have extra Masses at the start of Holy Week for the benefit of those who are at work and can't attend during the day. The Monday and Tuesday Masses are in the evenings, but the Mass for Spy Wednesday is in the morning (at 7am, as the Gospel is a little on the long side...) so that it is possible to attend Tenebrae on Wednesday evening.

Tenebrae is the service of Matins and Lauds of the Triduum, and a candle is extinguished after each of the psalms, until finally all are out and the lights are turned out. The banging of books represents the earthquake (I think!) But the very last candle is only hidden from view, and it gets shown again at the end.

One year I went to Tenebrae and the last candle had actually been extinguished, which caused a bit of consternation for the MC when the time came for its reinstatement...

Yesterday I decided to make the effort to go to St. Mary Moorfields. As our Senior MC remarked, it seems like a trek to get there, but you realise it was worth it afterwards. The journey itself was simple enough, though finding a parking place in Finsbury Circus proved to be a very suitably penitential exercise - I think I drove around it six times looking for the exit nearest the church - all of the exit streets looked the same and all were named "Finsbury Circus" which didn't help. I had used my mobile phone as sat-nav, and the battery had gone flat as I haven't managed to get an in-car charger yet, though fortunately it got me as far as Finsbury Circus first.

The liturgy at St. Mary Moorfields had been organised by the Latin Mass Society who had arranged for Cantus Magnus to sing the polyphony.

Although the phone camera was out of action, I had my "proper" camera with me as well, and so I recorded a couple of the polyphonic responses sung by the choir. This one is from the third Nocturn of Matins: Gesualdo's Una Hora.

I didn't take many photos, as there isn't much going on around the sanctuary during Tenebrae. This meant I was free to record "Eram quasi agnus innocens" from the second Nocturn, and you can listen to that over on YouTube.

I also recorded the Benedictus - the canticle of Zachariah - at the end of Lauds where the final candle is "extinguished"... and here polyphony alternates with plainsong. I particularly like the contrast - remember that everyone, including members of the congregation, joins in with the plainsong parts, so it's not perfect, but that is its charm.

It was definitely the best way to start the Triduum... Perhaps one year we can celebrate it at Blackfen!

That 40 Days For Life Vigil...

I haven't been blogging very frequently and, although I thought I had mentioned the 40 Days for Life campaign this year, it seems to have slipped by without comment on my blog, which is annoying. I had meant to say something!

Then followed a lot of negative press given to the Vigil, particularly when Bishop Alan Hopes indicated that he would attend in order to lead the Rosary. One comment from the pro-abortion crowd really had me scratching my head in perplexity - apparently "Bishops have no business moralising about abortion..." Actually, they do, that is the main business of a shepherd, to warn the sheep when they are going off in the wrong direction, to protect them...

Not having said anything to that point, I initially decided to stay quiet, especially as I hadn't been there for the "showdown" on Friday, when the counter-demonstration happened. I understand that there was controversy over filming on a previous occasion, which some people had found intimidating. I agree wholeheartedly that filming women going in to the clinics is completely wrong. However, filming the people praying in the vigils has actually been beneficial in the past, to guard against false accusations of intimidatory behaviour. Remember the landlord of the abortion clinic who came out brandishing a chainsaw? In addition, the whipping-up of the anti-Vigil demonstration started well before the cameraman incident, in fact, it started as soon as Bishop Hopes' presence was announced. One lone cameraman filming on one occasion was a convenient excuse, not a cause.

I've spoken to people who were actually present at the Vigil on Friday. One of the most rational accounts I have read is that of Leutgeb over on Bara Brith, and I have a great deal of respect for her common-sense approach to life, so it's her report which carries most weight with me.

But the final thing which made me break silence is the fact that, arousing such vehement responses from the pro-abortion camp, suggests that the 40 Days for Life vigils are having an effect. There wouldn't have been the need to protest against some religious nutcases standing on street corners if that was all they were. Rather inconveniently, the people attending the vigils are just ordinary people, men and women, young and old. In fact, the very violence of the response indicates to me that the truth pro-life message is slowly trickling through, aided by ultrasound images of the unborn child which make it impossible to pretend that abortion is just the removal of an inconvenient blob of tissue.

So, even if mistakes were made (we are merely human, after all), the 40 Days for Life endeavour deserves praise and encouragement for the good which has been achieved so far.