And Yet Another Post About Cats...

I received a concerned email from Delia asking whether everything was ok with Miaowrini. Looking at the blog, I realised that I'd actually allowed two whole weeks to elapse since my last update... In fact I've been putting up lots of mini updates on Twitter and Facebook, and hadn't realised that I'd neglected to post on the blog.

Thanks to the further kind intervention of Annie Elizabeth, who borrowed it from a friend of hers on my behalf, I managed to get a larger cage for Miaowrini, and bought a smaller litter tray to fit in it, which made life easier for Miaowrini, Furretti and me. Miaowrini can use the litter whenever she wants, Furretti is no longer locked out of the sitting room and I can relax without worrying that the cat needs to pee.

I took Miaowrini for her first check up at the end of the first week. The vet was justifiably pleased with the way that surgery had gone, and was even more pleased by the state of Miaowrini's leg after the first few days - there was good circulation, the wound was healing, and the cat was able to move her paw. I was shown the x-rays and the need for enforced cage rest was stressed in no uncertain terms. I was given some more painkillers (for the cat) and told that the stitches would be taken out after a further fortnight, but that the collar was no longer needed.

The knee before surgery (you can't see that the cartilage on top of the tibia has completely sheared off, and the ligaments are trashed.)

And here is the leg after surgery...

I then went out and bought the cats some catnip toy treats (and I thought Furretti would appreciate some extra attention.) However, Miaowrini tried rolling over and over in her cage, kicking at the mouse toy in her ecstasy, and I thought it wasn't a good idea, so confiscated her mouse. Furretti enjoyed her mouse toy very much...

I am more convinced than ever that catnip ought to be a controlled substance.

In the past few days, Miaowrini has been getting more and more fractious and has made several breaks for freedom. The last one involved some duplicity on her part: she scooped up all the litter to one end of the box and started crying as if it needed changing. Now it isn't pleasant to be stuck right next to a used litter box, and that is without the feline sense of smell and general fastidiousness. I opened the cage to get the box, and as I reached over, she scooted under my arms and jumped down to the floor.

I went after her, but had omitted to close the sitting room door. Out through it she hobbled... and I hobbled after her (the damp weather has made my knee play up) but I couldn't catch her. She made a mad leap for the kitchen counter (by the cat flap) and I had visions (nightmares) of her escaping into the wild outdoors, but she didn't have enough strength in her back leg to sustain the leap, and slithered down the side of the cupboard. I promptly grabbed her and stuffed her back in her cage. Again.

My main concern is that leaping about will put strain on her newly-reconstructed knee. It's only held together with nylon threads as artificial ligaments until enough scar tissue can form to stabilise the knee. Even so, there is no guarantee that the operation will work - the vet was careful to warn me about this, hence the strict cage rest regime.

We go back to have the next checkup on Friday - and hopefully the stitches will be removed. What happens after that is anyone's guess. I shall let you know how it goes...

More About Miaowrini...

I realise that you are all probably fed to the back teeth with constant cat reports, but I'm pretty preoccupied with what is happening to Miaowrini, so it's either the cat report or nothing. And several people want to know what is happening, so...

I brought Miaowrini to the vet before work on Monday morning. The idea was that the vet would give her an anaesthetic and x-ray the leg, and then decide whether to strap the leg up or just give enforced cage-rest. It proved to be a stressful day. At break time I got a call from one of the nurses saying that the blood tests were fine and the anaesthetic and x-rays would be going ahead after the morning clinic was finished. At lunchtime I got a call from the vet himself, and his first words were "Don't panic, she's still under anaesthetic and doing well, but..."

The x-rays were not good. Not only was the cartilage at the top of the tibia completely trashed, but so were the ligaments - all of them. The vet told me that he had never seen anything that bad in over 30 years of veterinary practice. He then explained that he'd got out his textbooks to see what the best treatment was - and the textbooks merely confirmed that this sort of damage was a very rare occurrence, and that no-one had agreed on the best way to tackle it, because it was so rarely seen.

The vet then gave me the option of going to see an orthopaedic specialist - which would involve a very long drive, a new assessment appointment later in the week, another anaesthetic for the cat, huge fees (around £3000) up front and no guarantee that it would work. The alternative was that he just give it his best shot then and there.

I opted for the latter - it had the advantage of immediacy, and I don't have £3000 to spend on something which might not work... I then had a whole afternoon of waiting to see how the operation panned out.

At the end of the day I got a call from one of the nurses reporting that the operation was over, and the vet was very pleased with how it had gone. Miaowrini was drugged up to the eyeballs, but was doing well, and had even had a little food - this made me smile: Miaowrini doesn't miss a meal if she can help it. She would be kept in overnight because of the major anaesthetic and the need for heavy pain relief, and would be reassessed in the morning, and if all was well she could probably come home in the late afternoon on Tuesday.

On arrival at the vet, I was told that the total cost was about £1300 (not counting the first two examinations)... only the knowledge that it would be collected directly from the insurance company prevented me fainting, I think. I was given several syringes filled with painkillers (to be administered orally), and instructions on keeping Miaowrini in a cage to prevent her trying to jump up and wrenching the ligaments out of position.

Tonight, Miaowrini made a bid for freedom when I took her out of the cage to allow her access to the litter tray. It was rather heart-rending to see that she couldn't manage the jump up onto the low windowsill. I promptly grabbed her and stuffed her back in the cage - stuffed is the correct term. A cat that doesn't want to go into a cage seems to have more limbs than any normal cat. As you can see from the photo, the cage (on loan from Annie Elizabeth, bless her!) is too small for long-term confinement, and I have to try and find a larger one so that Miaowrini can have her litter tray within easy access, as well as a bit of space in which to walk a bit. That's my next project.

In the meantime, another dose of her painkillers (two sorts) has left her sleepy and relatively comfortable. I prayed my office with one arm in the cage, scratching her ears and feeling Miaowrini purr... hopefully she'll get some sleep.

Miaowrini's Progress...

Poor Miaowrini.

Not only will she not be in the running for a red hat, but she won't be running at all for a while. She went back to the vet on Friday evening for another examination, and the antibiotics had reduced the swelling enough for a proper examination. The vet thinks that she has a fracture on the top of the tibia. I have to bring her back to the vet on Monday for an anaesthetic and x-rays. In the interim, she got given another dose of painkillers... and in order to prevent her making things worse by increasing movement with the reduction in pain, I decided to keep her in a cage over the weekend.

This hasn't gone down well with either cat.

Miaowrini is unhappy that she can't wander around. Furretti is unhappy that I'm spending time alone with Miaowrini... She actually threw herself at the sitting-room door handle in an attempt to open it yesterday while I was feeding Miaowrini... fortunately, my insights into cat psychology meant that I had jammed the door shut from the inside...

Furretti retired in high dudgeon, and is now sulking in the bathroom.

Parish Appeal...

Fr. Charles Briggs, the Parish Priest of St. Mary's, Chislehurst, frequently appears on the internet despite not having a blog of his own - particularly on mine, His Hermeneuticalness' and Fr. Michael Brown's blogs.

Fr. Briggs' church is famous for being the parish attended by the Emperor Napoleon III and the Empress Eugenie when they fled from France, and the Emperor was originally buried in the church before being given a mausoleum at Farnborough. Michael Davis, indefatigable defender of the TLM is buried in the churchyard. It is a beautiful church, but the parish is very small, and doesn't have much of an income.

When the church was redecorated in the 1980s, there wasn't enough money to include a proper confessional, and so they are attempting to raise the funds to put this right. This week's newsletter shows the design for the new confessional, and, although half of the cost has been raised through parish fundraising efforts, there is still another £3000 needed (approximately US $4930, €3607.)

If any of my readers would be willing to help, it would be greatly appreciated - and it would help so many in their experience of this wonderful Sacrament. There is a button for online donations (as well as the address for cheques) on the donations page of the parish website.

Cat Concerns...

Miaowrini is very much an outdoors sort of cat. She is also one of the clumsiest I have ever seen. As a kitten, she jumped up on the toilet on the one occasion when I had left the lid up, and fell in. She also fell in the swing-bin when attempting to jump over it. And she has fallen in the bath when I was filling it.

It was only a matter of time before she did some damage to herself. On Sunday night she appeared to have major difficulty walking, and growled when I attempted to examine her back legs. Despite the difficulty, she seemed to be ok when lying quietly, and happily munched through her dinner when I brought the bowl over to her, so I decided to keep her in the bathroom and assess the situation in the morning.

She was still unable to weight-bear on the left back leg in the morning, but since she had slept quietly during the night, I decided to leave her in the bathroom until after work. The minute my last lesson had finished, I headed straight home to collect the cat for a visit to the vet.

Miaowrini lived up to her name, miaowing plaintively as I took her out in the cat carrier, though she calmed down once she was in the car. I'd phoned earlier in the day to make the appointment with the vet, so we didn't have to wait too long.

The vet seemed a little puzzled, and called in a colleague for a second opinion. Miaowrini's knee was very swollen and she had a high temperature, which suggested an infection of some sort, and there was no obvious sign of a fracture (my original fear) but the leg was too swollen to be sure. Apparently there is a slight possibility that she had damaged the top surface of the tibia in some sort of fall, but the vets didn't want to rush to give her an anaesthetic for x-rays, and decided that it was better to give her a painkiller and anti-inflammatory and a course of antibiotics. The other possibility is that she's had a run-in with another cat or a fox.

In the meantime, I was to keep her inside and monitor her. If she didn't show any sign of improvement, or got worse overnight, I was to bring her back as an emergency, but otherwise the vet would try and carry out an examination on Friday when the swelling had gone down.

This morning Miaowrini seemed a little more active, though still unable to weight-bear. I was heartened by the fact that she made a break for it when I opened the bathroom door, but it was pitiful to see that she just couldn't manage more than a quick hobble. I was going to keep her in the bathroom for another day, but it occurred to me that, if the pain was less, she might try and jump up on the bath or other slippery surfaces, and I didn't want her to make things worse, or fall.

As a result, I moved all her things into a corner of the sitting-room. Sure enough, as I left for work, I saw her through the window trying to curl up on the (low) windowsill where she could watch what was going on outside.

It's a case of watching and waiting. Fingers crossed that she won't need an x-ray. Prayers would be appreciated (if only to soothe my frazzled nerves!)

Happy Feast Of The Epiphany...

The Magi have now appeared in the Christmas Crib at Blackfen...

To celebrate, this evening we had a Missa Cantata. Mass IV, Credo I. And We three kings was sung while the sanctuary was being prepared for the blessing of the Epiphany chalk.

I duly inscribed 20 C + M + B 14 above my door when I got home. Annie Elizabeth beat me to it, and has posted a picture already. I had to stretch to reach a spot where the chalk would "take" and my dodgy knees made me wobble, so my writing is all crooked, hence the lack of a photo. Very shaming for a teacher! I might re-do it tomorrow...

Photos from the Mass and the blessing of Epiphany chalk can be seen on my Flickr page.

Blessing Of Epiphany Water...

Today we had the blessing of Epiphany water after the Sunday morning Missa Cantata at Our Lady of the Rosary, Blackfen.

Fr. Finigan always blesses holy water for the parish with the traditional prayers - first exorcising the salt, then blessing it, then exorcising the water and blessing it, and finally mixing the two and blessing that. But the blessing of Epiphany water is rather impressive - a super-charged blessing, with knobs on.

First of all we chanted the Litany of Saints, then a few psalms (Psalms 28, 45 and 146, with antiphons) and then Fr. Finigan chanted the exorcism against Satan and the apostatic angels - and there's no messing about. The devil is given very firm marching orders. He is commanded to depart, and with each prayer I felt that the big guns were being lined up - Almighty God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit, the majesty of Christ, the sacred mystery of the cross, the mysteries of the Christian faith, the Virgin Mary, the faith of the apostles, the blood of the martyrs and the devout intercession of all holy men and women.

Begone Satan, you father and teacher of lies and enemy of mankind. Give place to Christ, in whom you found none of your works: give place to the one, holy, Catholic and apostolic Church, which Christ himself purchased with his blood. May you be brought low under God's mighty hand. May you tremble and flee as we call upon the holy and awesome name of Jesus, before whom hell quakes, and to whom the virtues, powers and dominations are subject...

Then the Benedictus was chanted, the exorcism and blessing of the salt and water carried out, and finally the Te Deum was sung.

And, at the end of it, we were encouraged to get some of the Epiphany water to take home. Holy water to really "kick ass," if you will forgive the expression! More photos can be seen on Flickr. (I also see that Fr. Z has posted his thoughts on Epiphany water.)

Tomorrow night we are having a Missa Cantata for the Epiphany itself, and there will be chalk blessed and distributed. Great stuff - I love sacramentals!!

Starting Early...

I may have imagined it in my fevered and flu-ridden state, but I was sure that someone posted a picture of shelves teeming with creme eggs. Yes, I know that they are no longer only sold for a few brief weeks at Easter, but still, Boxing Day did seem a little early to start.

However, today I noticed that not only are some shops already selling hot cross buns, but that they are actually trying to sell them off at a reduced price...

Will It Be A Whitewash?

I have been indulging in the luxury of listening to the Ashes Test Series while on holiday - the time difference precluding anything other than the briefest of snippets during term time. As I said in a previous cricket post, I don't understand the tactics involved in determining batting order or the intricacies of choosing when to use certain bowlers...

Mind you, given the current state of play, it would seem that the England team is in much the same state of ignorance.

In an attempt to learn more, I started following various cricket-related people on Twitter. So, on Monday morning, I saw the following tweet in my timeline:

Flower: "I'm looking forward to sitting down with Paul Downton (new M/D) and mapping a way forward…"
— Jonathan Agnew (@Aggerscricket) December 30, 2013

This just seemed to be too good an opportunity to miss, even though I haven't watched a single episode, and so have no idea whether it's any good. So I tweeted back:

Are you sure it wasnt actually @Aggerscricket: Flower: "I'm looking forward to sitting down with Downton (new DVD) and watching it" ? ;-)
— Mulier Fortis (@MulierFortis) December 30, 2013

I was amazed to see that I got a retweet from Aggers himself! When I mentioned this in the Sacristy a few days later, the Senior MC did a double-take - I really wish I had been recording. But since neither Jonathan nor Zephyrinus look at Twitter (and to preserve this earth-shattering moment so I can gloat for a bit) I thought I'd put up the proof that Jonathan Agnew actually retweeted me...

The final match in the Series is about to start. England won the toss for the first time, and they've changed the team quite a bit, so maybe it won't be a complete whitewash...

On a side-note, I think perhaps that cricket seems to appeal to so many of the traddy crowd because it is ever so gentlemanly. For example, just now Geoffrey Boycott deplored the use of bad language, explaining that he'd heard (and used) plenty of bad language himself in the changing rooms etc. but that it really wasn't appropriate with women and children present. I like that.

My First Award For 2014...

Yes, I know it will probably be my only award in 2014. However, I live in hope...

The exceptionally erudite, wonderfully witty and seriously saved Bruvver Eccles has nominated me for a Sunshine Award. This is awarded to "bloggers who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere." I was pretty chuffed to find myself on Eccles' list, until I realised that I'm probably only there because of the cats.

Apparently I'm supposed to write 10 pieces of information about myself. I'm not very interesting, and anyway, people only read the blog to check up on the cats. I know this is true because of the number of times I am greeted by the phrase "Oh, so you're  Mulier Fortis! How are the cats?" So I'm concentrating on them...

1. I have two cats, Cardinal Furretti and Monsignor Miaowrini.
2. Furretti is named for Pope Pius IX whose family name was Mastai-Ferretti.
3. Miaowrini is named after the Papal MC, Monsignor Guido Marini.
4. Furretti is furry.
5. Miaowrini miaows at me when she wants to be dried off after getting caught in the rain.
6. Furretti's brother was called Cardinal Catzinger but he died a few days after I adopted him.
7. Furretti demonstrated her traddy credentials early on by shredding The Catholic Times and leaving The Remnant unshredded.
8. Miaowrini is the better hunter - she came in riding a pigeon one morning.
9. Both cats are champions of Cat-holic orthodoxy - they trashed The Bitter Pill and left the Catholic Herald unscathed.
10. The cats have special "kitty steps" to help them get to and from the cat flap, made by Blackfen's Senior MC.

And now I'm supposed to nominate 10 more bloggers who are positive and creative and inspiring. That's made more difficult because Eccles has chosen some of my favourites already...

So, in no particular order, I shall nominate -

Ladies first - Leutgeb (Bara Brith), Annie Elizabeth (Defénde Nos in Proélio), Annie (Arundel & Brighton Latin Mass Society) and Mary O'Regan (The Path Less Taken.)

The gentlemen - Zephyrinus, Matthaeus (Sub Umbra Alarum Suarum) and Laurence England (That The Bones You Have Crushed May Thrill.)

And the clerics - Fr. Michael Brown (Gateshead Revisited), Pastor in Valle (Valle Adurni) and Fr. Simon Henry (Offerimus Tibi Domine)

And In With The New...

So, having attempted to benefit from the Church's end-of-year plenary indulgence giveaway last night, it was a case of showing up this morning for the first of the January bargains!

There is a plenary indulgence attached to the singing of the Veni, Creator Spiritus on the first day of the year. So, naturally, before Mass we kicked off with prayers for the Holy Father, and then sang the hymn. Then it was off with the cope, on with the chasuble and maniple (we don't want any dead kittens) and then Mass.

We've had the gradines up for the whole of the Christmas Octave, so Mass was ad orientem, and I'm rather sad at the thought that they'll have to come back down again at the weekend...

There are a few more treats in store, blessing-wise, at Blackfen. We will have the blessing of Epiphany water at the 10:30am Mass this Sunday (it's not the Epiphany in the EF) - and the blessing comes complete with the exorcism against Satan and the apostatic angels, followed by the Te Deum (real "kick-ass" holy water, so I must bring an empty bottle to Mass) and then the blessing of chalk at the 8pm Missa Cantata on the Monday. I don't know if there's anything else in January, but then in February we'll be getting candles blessed (and possibly having a procession) at Candlemas, and then, possibly, the blessing of throats for the feast of St. Blaise...

Seeing Out The Old...

I love the fact that, at Blackfen, we are blessed with a Parish Priest who likes to help his parishioners clock up as many plenary indulgences as possible! To help us in this endeavour, we get to see out each old year with a final Holy Hour where we pray the Rosary before the Blessed Sacrament and sing the Te Deum in thanksgiving for all the blessings we received during the previous year, and finishing with Benediction at midnight.

If Fr. Finigan gets the timing just right, the fireworks are exploding outside just as we receive the Benediction. This year we were slightly off, as the absence of organ accompaniment for the hymn Of the Father's Love Begotten meant that we sang it at a brisker pace than usual - very necessary if you don't want the hymn to become a dirge. In addition, the rain was really tipping it down, which resulted in a rather muted firework effect just as we began the Divine Praises...

I have loaded a few photos up on Flickr - do go and have a look!

Midnight Mass 2013...

Just for once I'm organised with my photos - well, sort of. I have put them into a Flickr set, but haven't labelled them, or weeded any out (that may change if I get a bit of spare time.)

In the meantime, do go and have a look. I don't know of anywhere else in England & Wales that had a vetus ordo Solemn High Mass for midnight on Christmas Eve...

Fr. Finigan reported that he very nearly had his first Christmas without any phone calls to ask what time Midnight Mass was. Then, at the last minute, he got two enquiries... Better luck next year!

Telling The Christmas Story...

The use of social media for the new evangelisation? Most appropriately, this one's doing the rounds of Facebook...

Christmas Bells...

We have a lovely entrance bell in the church at Blackfen, positioned by the doors from the small hall. But when big processions or funerals enter via the main church doors, we have to rely on the organist (if there is one) spotting that the priest is ready, or a server (if there is one) ringing a small handbell.

Delia (I think), presented Fr. Finigan with a rather nice bell she had come upon in Greenwich market some ago. Unfortunately there wasn't a bracket from which to hang it. Jonathan, Blackfen's Senior MC, seems to keep a weather-eye on Ebay for useful items, however, and he spotted one which looked as if it might do the trick.

He managed to put it all together on Sunday, just in time for the big entrance procession on Christmas Eve...

If You Can't Win Using Theology...

The Anglican Divines failed to win a theological debate against Edmund Campion despite his having been racked beforehand. Four centuries on, and Canterbury has recognised the futility of continuing to use theological arguments. Instead, they have challenged Rome to a cricket match.

The Vatican now has an official cricket club, comprised of priests and seminarians from the Vatican and the Roman colleges. The match between St. Peter's Cricket Club and the Church of England's team will probably happen in September, possibly at Lords.

Australia and England fight to win the charred remains of a cricket bail. I wonder what trophy Rome and Canterbury will contest... ?

Needless to say, I would be extremely keen to go and watch this one!

Ikea Have It Sussed...

A while back, Ikea produced a video which did the rounds on Facebook. They videoed an "experiment" - releasing 100 cats into one of their stores overnight, just to see what would happen. There was precious little "experiment" about the whole thing; as far as I could see, the exercise simply demonstrated that Ikea had worked out the golden rule of internet marketing: if you put a cat in the video, it's an instant hit.

The video itself was a bit of a disappointment to many people, as there was far too much talking about the cats from their owners, and not as much actual footage of the kitties themselves. Watching it carefully, however, made me wonder if this wasn't actually just the first step - and that an actual advert starring the feline explorers would eventually be released.

I was absolutely right, of course, and here is the finished article...

However, it would appear that not everyone is quite as positive about our feline friends. There is a spoof version of the advert, with an alternative ending. I am posting it here for the entertainment of Jonathan, Blackfen's Senior MC, who is forever asking whether my two cats have been turned into vindaloo yet. Before you start sending him death threats, I should just point out that Jonathan actually built the cats some rather nice steps to help them get to the cat flap...

Kitty Envy...

I thought it was about time for a kitty update.

All is not peace and harmony chez Mulier.

Miaowrini seems to be the better hunter - quite apart from being out more than Furretti, she appears to be the one bringing mice home to play. Furretti is usually asleep by my feet when this happens. The first indication that there is a catch is that Furretti wakes from a deep sleep and immediately scoots out into the hall. This contrasts with her normal relaxed awakening which involves much stretching and licking of various limbs. The two cats then play with the mouse, unless I rescue it.

I was too ill to get up the other night, and figured that I'd leave them to it, unless I heard screaming. The next morning, to my surprise, the mouse was still very much alive, and being watched by two fascinated cats...

There does appear to be some sort of power struggle going on at the moment. Miaowrini sneaked onto the bed when Furretti was out, and curled up in the favoured spot next to me, under my tray table. Furretti returned, and was most displeased by this turn of events. She promptly tried to get under the table too. I blocked her by encouraging her to settle in front of me... unfortunately she decided that she preferred to curl up on my stomach, and I was then trapped. When I finally moved, I succeeded in offending both cats.

This evening Miaowrini made another bid for the bed while Furretti was out. Furretti was sulking in the kitchen when I came home. I didn't want to move Miaowrini, so I'm sitting on the edge of the bed prior to getting in. Furretti has upped the ante by stretching across on to my lap for attention, and is getting the evil eye from Miaowrini as a result...

In the meantime I am attempting to placate both kitties, and give them each plenty of attention. I suspect that I am destined to fail...

Time For A Commercial Break...

My friends all know how much Coca Cola I drink, but I promise I haven't got shares in the company, and I'm not being paid to show this (unfortunately) but it made me smile, (and brought a lump to my throat) so I thought I'd share.

After all, we need to spread as much pro-life cheer as we can, right?

Oh, and there aren't any cats. But it still works.

Twitch of the mantilla to Matthew Archbold at CMR...

Finding St. Anne Line...

When I first decided to take private vows, my Spiritual Director advised me to adopt a patron saint, preferably one of the English martyrs. I had heard lots about St. Margaret Clitherow, but I couldn't find any sort of connection that made me want her as my patron, and so I started to look at St. Anne Line as a possible candidate.

The first thing I discovered was that there was very little known about her, other than brief accounts of her arrest, trial and her death at Tyburn. However, her feisty declaration, first at her trial and repeated on the scaffold, that she didn't repent of the "crime" of sheltering a Catholic priest but only regretted that she couldn't shelter more, really did grab my attention. I decided that Anne Line was the patron for me.

For a while, I knew very little else about my chosen saint. The internet, normally such a mine of information, yielded only three sources - one from the Catholic Encyclopaedia, one from Wikipedia and one on an American website with resources on the Faith for families. That was it.

A few years later, I got chatting to a friend of mine, Joanna Bogle, and St. Anne came up in the conversation. It transpired that Joanna had recently met a priest whose church was dedicated to the saint, and we decided to make a pilgrimage there. I've described in a previous post how we ended up going to visit a completely different church to the one we'd originally intended to visit before going on to our planned destination. That's what happens when you get two blondes in a car.

The two visits provided me with more valuable information about my chosen patron - much of which I used for my chapter about St. Anne in Joanna's book, English Catholic Heroines.

And now it seems that someone else has been interested in my saint. Martin Dodwell has written her biography, claiming that she was a muse for some of Shakespeare's work. Most appropriately, there is going to be a talk (and book signing) by Martin Dodwell held at the second of the two churches we visited - the church of St. Anne Line, South Woodford. Even more appropriately, the date of the talk is 2nd February - Candlemas - the 413th anniversary of St. Anne Line's arrest. The talk is at 3:30pm, followed by Benediction.

I am delighted to learn that the statue of St. Anne Line is no longer consigned to the presbytery garage (where it was being kept safe at the time of my pilgrimage.) Fr. Coveney reported to His Hermeneuticalness that the statue has been restored and moved inside the church in a place of honour, flanked by the framed account of her martyrdom and the famous painting of the Forty Martyrs, with votive candles in front. I can't wait to see it!

Only If They're Terminally Ill...?

I shouldn't be surprised. Babies are already killed legally through abortion, disabled babies can be killed legally right up until birth. Why should the mere fact of birth get in the way?

The Belgian Senate has voted to extend euthanasia to children. It's being called "voluntary euthanasia for terminally-ill children" but nothing on this earth is going to persuade me that a child is in any way able to "decide" that they want to die.

The scaremongering tactics ("Oh, but the disease has to be terminal and there must be unbearable pain!") are pretty clever. Quite apart from the simple fact that painkilling drugs such as morphine can be given so effectively that pain should not be experienced to that extent if the medical care is being given properly, there are several other points to consider. How much pain is unbearable? How do you quantify it?

I have been in what seemed to be unbearable pain which threatened to go on without any hope of treatment. I wanted to end it all. I actually considered it, but wasn't willing to put my family through the awfulness of coping with my suicide. This was some time before my reversion to the Church. As it turned out, the pain (caused by a combination of (iatrogenic) Reflex Sympathetic Dystrophy, chondromalacia patellae and the complete erosion of the front of my tibia) was easily treated once a correct diagnosis was made - but it took several years of misdiagnosis and increasingly severe pain before I got there.

Now the pain I was in was not due to a terminal disease, but the doctors I saw said that there was no cure for it. Why should a child in pain for which there is no "cure" be excluded from euthanasia on the paltry grounds that the disease causing the suffering isn't a terminal one? Where does one draw the line?

So, by allowing euthanasia for children in one scenario, the Belgian authorities have opened the way to killing children who are suffering from disorders that their parents cannot cope with, or that the medical establishment cannot afford to cope with...

It will only get worse. We need to pray for our legislators, and pray for the medical establishment.

Last Chance For The Ashes...

I'm beginning to wonder if I'm a jinx. England seem to have taken a turn for the worse since I started to take an interest in cricket. I listened to the Second Ashes Test on the radio each night as I drifted off to sleep, and it turned into a bit of a nightmare - even I didn't need anyone to tell me that England's first innings was a major disaster. It only got slightly better for the second innings, and I suspect it would have been much worse had Australia not declared early due to concerns about rain.

I'm not entirely sure about tactics - the importance of batting position, for example, escapes me. Why does it matter whether Root goes in at Number 3 or not? And if you have a bowler who gets lots of wickets, why bother to change him? As for "sledging" - it's just the equivalent of playground name-calling, isn't it? So why are grown men making such a fuss? I obviously still have much to learn...

Anyone For A Tuna Sandwich...?

Everyone seems to love cat videos. Quite simply, on the internet, cats rule.

However, even in real life, cats have the edge on other mammals. These people have presumably paid to see the dolphins, or feed the dolphins, or maybe even swim with the dolphins, and all you can hear on the video is "Hey, look at the cat!"

Yes, it's sweet. But the cat isn't kissing the dolphin. Cats aren't that stupid. It isn't even "playing." I suspect that it can smell the dolphin's tuna-breath...

I Couldn't Resist...

Yes, yes, I know! It isn't Christmas yet... but it makes me smile, so...

First Celebrate Advent...

This was posted on YouTube last year, but it still bears repeating...

A Digital Advent Wreath...

Jeff, the Curt Jester, very kindly allows his fellow-bloggers to make use of his cool Advent Wreath, which I have stolen for my sidebar. Each week, another candle is lit, and Christmas itself is welcomed by a picture of Our Lady holding the newborn Jesus.

If you want to get the image for your own blog, you can find the Javascript code over at the Curt Jester's blog.

Thanks again, Jeff!

First Vespers of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception...

My Renewal of Vows on Saturday was followed by the celebration of First Vespers of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, which was a fabulous way to round off the day (and made up for the fact that I felt like death warmed up!)

I love this particular feast - there is something so right about it. Just think, if you were God, and could choose your own mother, wouldn't you want to make her as perfect as it was possible to be, untouched by Original Sin (with all that entails)? Well, Jesus is God, and he did just that...

And then, on Sunday morning, we had the Mass for the Feast itself... (it takes precedence over the Second Sunday of Advent in the Extraordinary Form calendar.)

The Guild Meeting...

The only two bloggers willing to pose for photos at the excellent Guild of Blessed Titus Brandsma meeting back at the end of November were the two priest bloggers, Fr. Ray Blake and Fr. Timothy Finigan...

I've been snowed under (and very stressed) at work, so hadn't gotten around to blogging any sooner, but there have been other first-class reports of the proceedings from Richard Collins (aka Linen on the Hedgerow) and from the lovely Bones (Laurence England.)

Lunch was provided by Annie Elizabeth (Defénde Nos in Proélio) though I almost caused a major diplomatic incident by refusing to eat the pea and ham soup (on the basis that I loathe vegetables in general, and pulses in particular) and so was very nearly banned from having the sticky toffee pudding... She relented when my lip started to wobble (Annie's sticky toffee pudding is legendary!) but I suspect that I am paying for it now with a very bad cold (which Annie will, no doubt, inform me would have been avoided if I'd eaten my veg!)

The talk was a subject very dear to my heart - some of the miracles at Lourdes - given by Dr. Adrian Treloar. I did my best to live-tweet some of the main points. Adrian asked me to give the Catholic Medical Association a plug: something which I am more than happy to do. The CMA is responsible for producing the journal, Catholic Medical Quarterly, which is being made available online. As it happens, the May 2013 issue has an editorial by Alison Davies, a staunch defender of the pro-life cause who died just a couple of days after the Guild meeting. You can read more about Alison Davies over at Fr. Finigan's blog (he gives further links.)

Eccles also has posted an amusing account of the Guild meeting, courtesy of his Anti Moly...

A Seriously Blonde Moment...

Off to lunch this afternoon, I had a bit of trouble getting the car to start.

As I started to drive off, Fr. Finigan asked me why there was a red light flashing on my dashboard. I couldn't remember what the light was for. It wasn't the oil light. It wasn't the water light. The temperature was ok (well, actually the car hadn't had the chance to warm up) but this little red light kept blinking.

A few minutes later, driving along the road, I remembered that the last time it had been on, it was the immobiliser thingy. It used to come on when you pressed the clicky thingy for the whatsit...

My ability to explain myself wasn't helped by the fact that Father was making amused comments about the terms I was using, and the likelihood of finding "clicky thingy" in the index of the car handbook.

Then I noticed that the light went off.

"Ah!" I exclaimed, "Good. It's gone off... Oh! It's come back on again... Ah, it has gone off again... oh, no, it's back... Ah! It's sorted... umm..."

Did I mention that the bulb was blinking...?

Sometimes I worry about me...

(Once he had stopped laughing at me, His Hermeneuticalness did confirm that it had been blinking at slightly erratic intervals, and that I wasn't actually as mad as all that sounds...)

All Animals Are Equal, But...

I've said it before. That Same-Sex Marriage thing was nothing to do with equality.

The case of Mr. & Mrs. Bull, the B&B owners who refused to allow a homosexual couple to share a double bed back in 2008 have lost their appeal in the Supreme Court.

For my transatlantic readers, a B&B isn't quite the same as a hotel or motel. It is usually a private house (often quite small) where some of the bedrooms are rented out. The owners live in the house.

Despite the fact that it was proved that Mr. & Mrs. Bull applied their policy to all unmarried couples equally, the court ruled that the policy constituted illegal discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation.

I don't quite get it - maybe I'm missing something here. A heterosexual unmarried couple could be refused a double bed, but refusing one to a homosexual unmarried couple is discriminatory...

So, one rule for heterosexuals and a completely different one for homosexuals.

And that is meant to be equality?

I suppose that, if the powers-that-be can redefine "marriage" then they can redefine "equality" too...

Mea Culpa...

Having posted a brief reminiscence on my visit to the tomb of St. Peter last year (prompted by the recent exposition of some relics of St. Peter) I decided to have a look back at my posts from my visit to the Eternal City.

I was rather disconcerted to find that I'd only written two posts - one on my first visit to St. Peter's itself and one on my visit to the Venerable English College. I then remembered that I had intended to finish captioning all my photos before actually posting any more, and somewhere along the way I'd forgotten to finish the job. Also some of my photos were locked.

I still have to finish the captions for days four and five of my visit, but I shall try to get that done as soon as possible. Part of the delay is partly because, after a while, the churches started to meld into one another, and I've had to spend a lot of time checking where exactly I went, and what I saw... I meant to check some of it with His Hermeneuticalness, but he's been busy...

I must just recount one of the funniest episodes of the trip.

In Santa Maria sopra Minerva there is the tomb of St. Catherine of Siena. I wanted to go and pray before the tomb (as well as get a good photo) so I walked closer. Now I have problems with both my knees and one of my ankles, but steps up (if not too steep) are actually less of a problem than going down. I didn't actually notice how high the altar was until I finished praying and turned to come back down...

There wasn't a handrail.

Fortunately, I noticed a sort of plinth to the side of the altar - there was a large statue on it and the bottom formed a convenient ledge to lean on as I made my way gingerly down the steps. The statue was a little unstable and rocked slightly, but I wasn't leaning heavily on it.

His Hermeneuticalness was waiting patiently at the bottom, looking slightly amused.

When I reached ground level, he asked in a casual tone, "Mac, you do realise, don't you, that the statue you were just leaning on was carved by Michaelangelo...?"

Once my heart started beating again, I just had to take another photo. It is rather blurred because I couldn't stop giggling...

The Relics Of St. Peter...

The end of the Year of Faith was marked by a Mass where relics of St. Peter were brought out for veneration for the first time since they were unearthed in the 1940s.

The BBC, with typical lack of sensitivity towards the beliefs of billions of Catholics around the world, put up a headline which read "Pope puts 'St Peter's bones' on public display." The quote marks around St. Peter's bones indicate clearly that the author of the piece doesn't agree in their authenticity.

I haven't seen the relics themselves, obviously - they've only just been brought out. I have been down to the tomb - or rather, the chapel where the tomb is. Looking at the maps of the Vatican Grottoes, I see that this is the entrance to the Confessio, and I think that the remains of St. Peter are (or were) behind the grill by the mosaic of Christ. If I'm right (and I'm very bad at following maps, and have a lousy sense of direction), the grill actually backs onto another chapel - the Clementine Chapel - which we didn't go in to because there was a Mass being celebrated at the time. It was a spine-tingling moment being even that close, and I was almost in tears. Fortunately I pulled myself together and got some photos, which you can find on my Flickr set.

Throughout the history of the Church, the location of St. Peter's remains has been said to be under St. Peter's Basilica... underneath the High Altar, to be precise.

When excavations under St. Peter's were carried out, they discovered a tomb below the High Altar with "Peter is here" (or words to that effect).

The Church hasn't been around that long - 2000 years, give or take. 266 Popes - and we know the names of all of them. Something as important as the burial place of the first Pope is likely to have been passed on with great care. So finding remains labelled "Peter" under the High Altar of St. Peter's Basilica shouldn't come as any great surprise.

Of course, no one is obliged to believe that the bones belong to St. Peter...

Patience... Or Just Exhaustion...

Am I the only person rooting for the bird to get splatted with a paw and eaten...?

Ok. Just me then...

Career Opportunities...

I previously admitted my desire to be a womyn priest, but a traddy one, as polyester tie-dye brings me out in hives. Following news that the Church of England has agreed to appoint womyn as byshops, I have come to the realisation that I have been setting my sights too low.

Upon a brief examination of the copy of Fortescue in the sacristy (seventh edition), I discovered many hitherto unexplored opportunities for the expression of traddy sartorial elegance: I think I'd look pretty stunning in a rochet and cappa. I'm not quite sure how I'd cope with putting on the liturgical stockings and shoes at the throne... 

Having gloves, tunicle, dalmatic & chasuble should certainly help to keep me warm (I have constant battles with Blackfen's MC over exactly how many bars of heater should be switched on) and the crozier will make a handy place to hang my handbag. The deacon and subdeacon pinning on the pallium might be a little bit tricky - I am generously proportioned - but I'm sure I can figure something out...

On second thoughts, after having a look at this lot (courtesy of the very-saved Eccles), perhaps being a womyn byshop isn't all it's cracked up to be...

Learning To Serve...

As I have mentioned before, Jonathan, the Senior MC at Blackfen, likes to get the boys serving at Mass and other events as quickly as possible, and doesn't hesitate to get them doing different jobs.

A favourite job is that of thurifer - something to do with setting fire to charcoal, I think.

Anyway, two of our newest recruits to the serving team have each shown up on Thursday evenings for Rosary & Benediction. The job of MC is a little too ambitious for them both at the moment - Jonathan will probably give it a week or two - and it was very sweet to see thurifers who were almost the same size as the thurible chain...

You can see a few more photos over on Flickr...

A Photo Opportunity...

At the beginning of the month I attended a meeting of The Keys at St. Mary Moorfield's. Bishop Philip Egan was the speaker, talking about evangelisation in a secular culture. It was an excellent talk, and a wonderful evening, though I was disappointed not to be able to get a good photo of Bishop Egan as he had to leave early to catch a train.

However, I did manage to get this photo of Mgr. Keith Newton of the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham together with Fr. Finigan...

After the talk, Mgr. Newton chatted to me about my patron saint, St. Anne Line, about whom I had written for a chapter in English Catholic Heroines (my claim to being a "proper" writer!) - it transpires that Mgr. Newton knew the church dedicated to St. Anne in South Woodford as this was his old stamping ground, and it was a real treat to be able to swap stories with him.

I've Been Preoccupied Of Late...

Furretti was giving me cause for concern earlier this week.

I noticed that she appeared to have lost weight - it's difficult to tell just by looking at her, as she is very fluffy, but it seemed to me that she was rather thinner than usual: I thought her pelvic bones were more noticeable when I stroked her, and her vertebrae were rather more pronounced. Furretti didn't seem to be comfortable - she was holding herself rather carefully rather than just curling up on my pillow, and, most worryingly, she didn't purr when I made a fuss of her. She had a scab on her neck (though she wasn't too keen on my examining it) but no other obvious injuries, and was off her food.

When I arrived home on Monday evening, I noted with some concern that she was out (and her food was uneaten) - this was worrying because it had been pouring with rain all afternoon, and Furretti normally loathes getting wet. I wandered around outside, calling her name, and questioning my next-door neighbour. To my consternation, I saw that a fox was lurking near the catflap, and did my best to scare it off - after which Furretti made an appearance.

As luck would have it, I had lent my cat carrier to a friend and had forgotten to retrieve it at the weekend. Fortunately another neighbour had a carrier to lend to me. I then drove over to the vet's surgery, with Furretti yowling all the way.

The vet was very nice, assuring me that it was better to come in earlier rather than later. A thorough examination of the cat was carried out, including a check of her temperature. Furretti does not have a bio-chip, and so her temperature had to be assessed in the traditional manner - a procedure which ruffled her dignity somewhat. Never have I seen a cat look so affronted.

The verdict was then given: Furretti was perfectly healthy, in the vet's professional opinion, but she would be happy to carry out a blood test just to put my mind at rest. Heartless mercenary beast that I am, I made enquiries as to the cost of such blood tests. On hearing that it was in the region of £70 or so - in addition to the consultation fee - I declared myself perfectly content with the professional opinion of the vet. Indeed, Furretti had perked up quite a bit, and seemed keen to leave the surgery...

It was decided that I would monitor her for a few days, and return for a blood test if she didn't show any improvement.

I am delighted to report that Furretti has made a complete recovery...

Female Cardinals...

The Irish Times claimed that Pope Francis might appoint a female Cardinal or two at the next Consistory. They are a little behind the times - the first female Cardinal was actually appointed at an emergency Catsistory, once it became clear that England & Wales didn't have a Cardinal of voting age. Unfortunately for Archbishop Nichols, the recipient of the red hat was none other than Cardinal Mastai-Furretti (to give her her full name)...

Now that a new Consistory has been announced for February, Monsignor Guido Miaowrini is hopeful for an upgrade... and it would double the number of female Cardinals, so everyone (except Archbishop Nichols) would be happy...

After all, if people are silly enough to think women can be Cardinals, why not cats?

Photo-Fest...

It has been a busy end to the half term holiday, but I've been good, and have managed to upload various photos to Flickr before the madness of term time descends once more. This was a more onerous task than one might think, as, for some reason, I had to load the photos in batches of six or seven photos to avoid the uploader crashing in a sulking fit.

I started playing about with my phone settings (after Mass, I hasten to add!), and managed to produce the photo on the left (from the Mass for All Souls) - and think I might try to experiment a little more with sepia tones and black & white photos.

Anyway, I have different sets up on Flickr for general perusal. There were the photos from Halloween (well, ok, First Vespers of All Saints), then the photos from the Missa Cantata celebrated on the Feast of All Saints. Yesterday we had Blackfen's monthly First Saturday Missa Cantata which, fortuitously, was the Commemoration of All Souls. And today was the annual Prayers for the Dead at the local cemetery, along with the blessing of graves.

Do go along and have a look...