Blog Break...

You may have noticed my absence from the blogosphere during the past week. Then again, I could be kidding myself!

I went to the Faith Summer Session, a five-day residential conference organised by the Faith Movement. For quite a few years now, the summer event has been held at Woldingham School, Surrey.

Unfortunately, as Fr. Tim has already noted, Woldingham School is the communications equivalent of the Bermuda Triangle... there are one or two payphones which work with phonecards (no coin-operated phones, as far as I could make out), and that's it. No mobile signals. We say this each year, and each year you find new people who can't quite believe that it is possible to be completely out of range of a phone mast... and you see them wandering around with phones held out as they search for a magic "spot" from which they can phone or text another human being. No Wi-fi. No broadband. I believe that there is a computer made available to the conference organisers (and anyone canny enough to know whom to bribe!) but the connection is worse than useless, and the school's security system blocks sites such as Blogger and Facebook.

It's almost a comfort to realise that the private education system in this country suffers from the same lack of IT support as the state sector...

"But how is it that Fr. Tim managed to blog during the week?" I hear you cry! Hmmphhhh. A very sore point. He sneaked off to the local service station on the M25 and blogged from there. I didn't have my car, so this wasn't an option for me. I didn't have a laptop either, so the car wouldn't have been much use anyway. I did try to check my favourite blogs on my phone when I went to the local pub for lunch, but the signal was still pretty dicey, and then my phone battery ran flat. I had forgotten to pack my charger (I was distracted by my hair crisis!)

The flat battery was more of a problem than you might suppose - it meant that I couldn't get lots of photos as a record of the conference. I did get a few at the beginning. This was the biggest Conference to date, and the chapel was full, which is a sight for sore eyes: all these young people have given up a week of their holiday time to come and discover more about their faith.

There were over 35 priests there for most of the week, nearly all of them young, sprightly and enthusiastic. There were also loads of seminarians present: remember this when next you are told that there is a vocations "crisis" in the Church which means we need to plan for fewer priests. There are plenty of young men who are willing to answer God's call, but if we "plan" for fewer priests, then we forget to make that call heard in the parishes, and so we will get what we plan for!


Twitch of the mantilla to Fr. Tim for the photos of priests and seminarians. I had absented myself from this particular photo-fest, partly because my camera had died, and partly to ensure that I wouldn't be cajoled into appearing in any photos...

There were over 230 participants, and the atmosphere was pretty fantastic. Each day there were talks, time for questions, discussion groups, and the Liturgy of the Church - Mass, Morning Prayer and Compline each day, the opportunity to attend Exposition and Benediction each afternoon, and a Reconciliation Service on one evening; there was also plenty of free time each afternoon, as well as a ceilidh on one night and an "Entertainments Evening" on another. I can't wait for the Winter Conference!

A Busy Morning...

I had to get up disgracefully early this morning. Not early by school-day standards, but I'm supposed to be on holiday... However, the promise of a Mass in the Extraordinary Form (there you go, Joe, don't say I never read your blog!) was too much of a treat to resist!

Fr. Tim's car had a flat battery (he suffered an "honorary" blonde moment, but I shall be magnanimous and wait for him to admit it on his own blog!) so I helped him to get it started again (ie. I opened my car bonnet and then watched while he did the thingy with the jump leads...) Feeling positively inspired, I drove down to Kwik-Fit to get my air conditioning re-gassed.

I was quoted £45 for re-gassing, and an extra £20 for "de-bugging" to remove all nasty, whiffy bacteria. However, I spotted a poster on the front desk which proclaimed a special offer - "£25 for re-gassing (when you spend £50 or more) or £40 re-gassing and de-bugging (no minimum spend applies.)"

Feeling very blonde, I called the mechanic over. I asked why the price was different from my quote. "Ah, yes Madam... but you see, that's a special offer if you spend £50 or more."

I still didn't quite get it, but there was a potential saving of £25, so I pointed out that, if I had the de-bugging as well there was, according to the poster, no minimum spend.

The mechanic checked the poster. He was forced to admit that this was indeed the case.

I decided to make absolutely sure, and so, in my best "I'm a ditsy blonde who doesn't quite understand that 1+1=2" manner, I asked again, "So, it's £45 to have the air conditioning re-gassed, but £40 to have it re-gassed and de-bugged?"

I think the mechanic was feeling blonde at that point... "Yes, Madam, it would seem so..." he admitted.

"Great!" I exclaimed, "I guess I'll take that option!"

I don't really use air conditioning in the car, but any passengers I have seem to need it.

I then happened to drive past my hairdresser. I noticed it was empty. I looked at my watch. It was still early. I shot in and explained my predicament. She looked at my hair. Trying to be diplomatic, she said that she could see it was "very dark" and not at all suitable... later, once the colour had been stripped out and my usual shade of blonde restored, she admitted that, when ash blonde goes wrong, it goes very wrong...

I shall now go off to Woldingham to recover from the emotional turmoil. Blogging resumes Friday, unless I can find a computer!

Hair Today...

I've tried to put up with the dark ash blonde colour. I've tried to offer it up too. But it's really ghastly.

Fr. Tim has tried to be kind. I suspect he saw my cri de coeur on the blog and decided that it was more than his life was worth to comment. But if the colour was really ok, I'm sure he'd have said so. Instead, when I mentioned my dissatisfaction with the result of my last fiasco, he gave the priestly equivalent of a politician's "no comment!" - namely, a shrug of the shoulders and "I really wouldn't know about that sort of thing..."

I do not have time to go to the hairdresser. Tomorrow afternoon, I am off to the Faith Summer Session at Woldingham. For a week. And then I'm helping on the Faith Summer Break at Woldingham. For a week.

I'm not sure I can stand a whole two weeks of being dark ash blonde.

I have some pre-lightener, which should strip off the ash blonde colour. I can then apply a light blonde colour instead. That's the theory...

The reason I haven't done it already is a simple one: I've had some very bad experiences with hair dye. This makes me a little cautious. Kasia has described her hair disasters, but I think I can trump that...

My worst experience was about 7 years ago. I saw a new hair dye preparation which was advertised as an on-off product... it was permanent, but you could remove it with a special chemical when you'd had enough of it.

I suddenly developed the urge to go aubergine.

How the hell do I know why I wanted to go aubergine?

I went aubergine on Saturday evening. By Sunday morning I hated it. I used the chemical "off" switch. It didn't remove all of the aubergine... I was left with a few pinkish tones...

By Sunday afternoon, I had unearthed a packet of my usual ash blonde colour. I decided to apply this in the hopes that it would cover the slight pink tinge.

It didn't.

Instead, my hair went a rather horrible shade of brown. It looked, to me, like a bad case of diarrhoea. I phoned up a good friend, and poured out my woes. Like all good friends, she tried to reassure me. "Don't panic," she soothed, as I was describing how death was preferable to having to go in to teach while my hair was in such a mess (girls can be awfully bitchy!) By this time it was Sunday evening.

"I'm sure that your hair can't really be that bad... it just looks that way to you, the same way that you think a spot stands out a mile when no-one else can see it..."

I protested that my hair really was a mess. So she suggested that I come round for her to give her honest opinion. "If the worst comes to the worst," she said, "there's an all-night chemist near me, and we can figure out what to do."

I drove round to Angela's house and rang the bell. As she opened the door, her smile of greeting faded.

"I'll get my coat."

So, at 10pm, we went to the chemist to see what hair dye options were available. A pre-lightener and a blonde shade were selected. We then went back to Angela's house. I applied the pre-lightener.

To my horror, the hair went a vivid orange colour. Definitely carrotty. Angela declared that she liked it, but as she also had bright orange paint on her walls, I decided that she was biased.

The blonde shade was then applied. The end result was a mousey-blonde. Mousey-blonde with pink, brown and orange patches. I didn't like it, but it was better than either the aubergine-red, the shitty brown or the carrotty-orange.

By the end of the week, I went to a hairdresser and begged him to put it right. It took six months before the last patches of pink tone finally disappeared.

Hmmmmm. Maybe I need to think this through again...

We've got Mass tomorrow at 7am. I'll see how I feel after that...

I Could Kick Myself...

I'll explain the blog title later.

It's been a very busy few days. I haven't had a chance to put up any pictures from the Merton LMS Conference. I will do, and will probably do a YouTube video of them, but I just haven't had the time.

On Friday, I went along to see Newhousenewjob. She's an old friend of mine (pre-blogging), and I wanted to hear all about her recent wedding and see the photos... I love looking at photos, but just looking at photos isn't that entertaining - I want to be talked "through" them... you know, what made everyone look round just at this point, why that person is scowling, where so-and-so is now, etc. etc. I was aghast to discover that it's been a whole year since my last visit.

Anyway, Newhousenewjob appears to be blooming... but she's almost as camera-shy as me, so, no photo.

Today we had the monthly Missa Cantata at Blackfen. Fr. Tim gave an excellent sermon about St. Alphonsus Liguori. Afterwards, a few of us went off to a local pub for lunch. I was delighted to make the acquaintance of James Mawdsley - author of the blog Ecce Mater Tua, and ex-prisoner of conscience. It was a real privilege, and a very great pleasure, to meet him. His enthusiasm for the TLM was also very heartwarming.

I have two regrets. One was to do with Novus Ordo Eurofizz, Real Ale, glass vessels and photographs. James' comment was: "It's lucky you haven't got your camera!" or words to that effect. The look of horror which crossed his face as I gleefully brandished my phone camera made me relent, however. So, no photo.

I should, however, have taken the chance to snap James and Fr. Tim together afterwards. I only realised what an opportunity I'd missed once I was back in the car on the way home. And so, no photo.

Like I said, I could kick myself!

Very, Very Good...

One of the funniest captions I've seen in a while. Fr. Dwight Longenecker provided the photo and Christopher Joseph devised the caption...

"Just for one week, Georg. No one will notice."

Merton Traddy-Fest

Fr. Tim laughingly told me that I should attend the Merton Conference in order to discuss the finer points of liturgical apparel and behaviour for a Traddy Womynpriest...

...and, since I'm currently on holiday, I thought that it might be quite an entertaining way to spend a day out. The alternatives were housework and lesson plans. Pretty much a no-brainer, really!

It was absolutely fantastic. The liturgy was superb, and the singing took my breath away. Lots of bloggers were in evidence... which explains why the Catholic Blogosphere is so quiet at the moment... anyway, I was able to amuse myself with a game of spot-the-blogger...

I was sitting next to Damian Thompson during Mass. Bloggers in choir included Fr. Tim Finigan, Fr. Ray Blake, Fr. John Boyle, Fr. Paul Harrison, Fr. Seán Finnigan, Br. Lawrence Lew and Fr. Guy Nicholls (even though he doesn't blog himself, so many pictures appear on Jackie's blog that it feels as if he does!)

More posts (and photos) tomorrow...

Maybe I Have No Soul...

No, it's ok. I haven't gone all weird and atheistic. I'm referring to my (lack of) artistic sensibilities.

After rearranging my prospective classroom the other day, my friend Angela and I decided to go out for a little drive. She happened to mention that she hadn't seen Ebbsfleet International, and she was intrigued by my description of it. So, off we went. Angela was as bemused as I had been by the architectural design, and both of us were completely flummoxed as to why the grassy areas outside the terminal were arranged in troughs and peaks... a sort of ripple-effect, only bigger. Imagine a lawn with row after row of speed humps (the "sleeping policeman" type) and you get the idea.

Whatever the reasoning behind it, the result is that some poor individual is going to find cutting the grass extremely hard work... and it'll have to be done with a hand mower because you can't get a sit-down one to cope with all the bumps: they're too close together.

We then drove on down to Bluewater. In the entrance foyer below the cinema ticket office (I think it's called the Water Circus, only they've just gone and filled in all the fountains) there is a display area. And at the moment, the display they have up is of the proposals for a new sculpture which is intended, as one person remarked, " to put Ebbsfleet on the map!"

There are five proposed options on display, small models and postcards, and a picture and video simulation of what the installation will look like in situ, and shoppers are being encouraged to make comments on little postcards for each one. Actually, I think some of the comments are of more artistic merit than the sculptures.

The idea is that the chosen sculpture will be twice the size of the Angel of the North. And it will be visible from the A2. This latter point is, in my opinion, rather important...

The most popular option, as far as I can work out, is a horse. A white stallion, to be exact. Now, horses in fields are quite a common sight as one drives down the A2. However, this one will be 50m high, and almost the same height as the electricity pylons beside it. As the computer simulation made clear, this results in a curious visual illusion type effect. Inducing visual illusions related to perspective and distance in drivers along a busy stretch of motorway is probably not the best of ideas.

I speak from experience. This is very close to the spot where I got smashed into by an articulated lorry whose driver didn't quite appreciate the perspectives in his driving mirror...

The least popular option (and thus probably the most likely to win) seems to be a pile of scaffolding. An expensive pile of scaffolding. Oh, I'm sure it's very carefully arranged, and not actually real scaffolding... but it does look rather like a child's Meccano set construction which has been sat on by mistake.

The other three options are an open cube-on-cube building-block arrangement with a laser shining straight up through the top (maybe it's actually a disguised homing beacon for spaceships to land at Ebbsfleet Pan-Gallactic International!), the inside of a large building on top of a hill (all made of concrete) which resembles an abandoned Lego demolition site, and a large Sky satellite dish with a feather in front of it.

Art? Ummm, if you say so...

Another Of My Spectacularly Blonde Moments...

Uh-oh. They do say that the devil makes work for idle hands. I think I've just proved it...

I have posted previously on the things I tend to do to my hair. In the past year or so I have been pretty restrained, and have gone to the same hairdresser most of the time. This has cut down on some of my more hair-raising experiences.

Unfortunately for me, my hairdresser chose to go away on holiday round about the time I was due for my roots to be re-touched. This is more of a problem than it sounds: my hairdresser only works on Wednesdays and Fridays. She also gets booked up pretty early. I couldn't get an appointment for this week - she's busy. Last week, I was busy. Next week I'm on the Faith Summer Session. The week after that, I'm on the Faith Summer Break. The week after that, my roots will look really disgusting, and there's no way I can leave them that long...

So, today being relatively quiet, I thought I would fix the problem myself. I've done it often enough before...

However, being blonde, it would seem that I suffer from a particular type of amnesia, namely "blonde-shade-itis." This results in my forgetting exactly which shade of blonde looks best. I just grabbed a pack of hair dye out of my cupboard, and applied it.

In other words, I forgot "Lesson 1." Having actually blogged about it, it is particularly galling to find I have repeated the mistake!

Tomorrow I shall try damage limitation. The way I'm feeling right now, this may involve hair clippers and a wig.

Classroom Psychology

Yesterday was a good day. I went to a very early (almost indecently early for a holiday) Mass courtesy of His Hermeneuticalness. I then dropped him off at the station as it was en route to school. Yes, you read that correctly... I went to school.

Last (academic) year was my first at my current school, and, as the newbie, I drew the short-straw as far as timetabling and rooming went: most days were characterised by the need for me to move from classroom to classroom every lesson.

This doesn't sound so bad: after all, it's what the students have to do... the difference is, however, that, as the teacher, you have to clear up the classroom once the class is dismissed (you can get the kids to do some of it, but there's always something missed), unplug the laptop, disconnect the interactive whiteboard, switch off the projector, grab your books, notes, register, computer and keys, lock the classroom, go to the new classroom, unlock the door, set up the laptop, switch on the projector and whiteboard, calibrate the whiteboard so that the writing appears where you want it, give out books, download the class register, check to see that the correct practical equipment is where you expected it to be and then settle the class down so that you can start the lesson. This takes time.

Meanwhile, the class demands to know why you are late and asks if there is going to be a practical. You often get a handful of children all suddenly trying to explain why they haven't done their homework, and why, despite it being set a week before, they haven't managed to see you any sooner. And the rest of the class is starting to climb the light fittings... and play with the gas taps. I have occasionally entertained wistful fantasies about telling them NOT to stick bits of metal into the live pin of the electric sockets (on the basis that they will often do exactly what you tell them not to) but I have to banish such thoughts as being unprofessional...

Then, and only then, can you actually start to teach.

I have been very tired for most of the year.

This coming year, as a "reward" for surviving the timetable equivalent of hell, I have been promised that most of my lessons will be in one room. The cloud to my silver lining is the warning that I will be "responsible" for the state of that room.

Now, the physical environment of any classroom has a huge impact on classroom management. The arrangement of the room in question was less than desirable from a teaching point of view: the tables were arranged in such a way that only 20 students could be seated comfortably at desks.

Most classes have considerably more than 20 students. Quite a few have 30. With the desks arranged in a sort of horseshoe, the extra students were dotted around the back of the room, where they were able to block sinks and gas taps with items such as sweet wrappers and chewing gum, secure in the knowledge that the teacher couldn't see them.

The horseshoe arrangement also encouraged noise, as the students could talk to each other across the room. Students are far less inclined to have a conversation with someone if they have to turn around to do so. Students sitting in small groups will still talk, but the noise level is considerably less, and it's easier to control: divide and conquer has always been a useful ploy!

Hence my willingness to go in and play "house" during the Summer. I was joined by a good friend of mine, also a Science teacher, and together we discussed various options. Eventually, I decided on a "five dots-on-dice" arrangement of tables: this allows me room to move round all the tables while students are working, everyone can see the board (and me) without having to turn right around, and no-one is near the sinks, gas taps or electric plug sockets...

I will let you all know how the experiment works out!

Aha ! All Has Been Revealed...

When Cardinal Castrillon Hoyos celebrated a Pontifical High Mass at the throne in Westminster Cathedral, those in the know made a few comments about the lack of buskins. I had no idea what buskins were. His Hermeneuticalness, when challenged, said that they were some sort of stocking put on with the other vestments at a Pontifical High Mass... and he admitted that he'd never seen any, so couldn't describe them...

All has now been revealed! Shawn Tribe of The New Liturgical Movement has posted descriptions of buskins (ordinary and liturgical) and explanations of colour, decoration and manner of wearing them. He's even got photos!

I see that I shall have to work hard as a Womynpriest to educate my brother clerics as to the best way to avoid wrinkled stockings gathering around the ankles...

Sylvester...

A couple of people have asked me how Sylvester is doing. YES ! See, Fr. Tim... some people actually like to read about cats!!

Anyway, most of the corneal sequestrum seems to have sloughed off (yuck... nasty dead eye tissue, gross!) and he doesn't appear to be in any discomfort, though there is still a small, discoloured area on his eye. I'm almost certain that he won't need any further treatment.

In the meantime, Sylvester is doing his best to eat me out of house and home. On school days, he gets fed pretty early and then heads out through the catflap as I head on out through the door. I often muse on how long he actually spends outside: this week I can say "virtually none" ! He has divided his time between eating, popping outside briefly to do the necessaries, grooming, nudging my leg with his head (when he wants feeding or attention), sitting on the arm of the armchair behind me and miaowing plaintively (when he wants feeding or attention) and actually sleeping on the armchair. The latter activity takes up by far the greatest proportion of his time...

Some Of The Recent Additions...

I haven't always had time to draw your attention to my blogroll additions, so, I thought a quick round-up of the most recent ones might be in order...

Roses and Jessamine writes a blog of the same name - one which evokes gently scented eau de toilette. She hails from the same neck of the woods as Fr. Ray. I'd love to know why she chose that particular name!

Benedict Ambrose writes Tremendous Trifles - "yet another Scottish blog" (his description, not mine, I hasten to add!) which contains musings on, well, just about everything.

Australia Incognita is a blog from Down Under; Terra, the author, describes herself as deeply attached to the Traditional Latin Mass... of course, Terra might actually be a "himself" - neither the Blogger profile, nor the Facebook one, offer any clues!

Hearts at Home is a blog written by Penny and Pillarclimber, two homeschoolers from North Carolina.

Saint Louis Catholic is written by Thetimman, who is unclear about why he started blogging, but he has an interesting selection of posts on various snippets of Catholic news.

And finally, the Pious Sodality of Church Ladies held me up as an exemplar of what happens when Church Ladies "go bad" after I expressed my womynpriest vocation. A very entertaining blog.

A View To A Cull...

I love blogging. And I have my favourite "must read daily" blogs as well as quite a few that I visit more infrequently. But I noticed that, although I've been quite good at adding new sites to my blogroll (usually after their authors have commented on one of my posts - I generally follow up to see who is posting comments) I have been less than vigilant in removing old links...

But I really dislike "dead" links on a blogroll. First, the blogroll gets to be rather too long and unwieldy, and then becomes more a record of "blogs I visited way back when" rather than "blogs I read and enjoy"! And secondly, I waste valuable blogging time checking out links which haven't updated in months... most blogs have a header, and you have to wait for the page to load and then scroll past the header to see if anything new has been added. I'm intending to be a little more disciplined with regard to blogging (I want to blog for a specific time during the holidays rather than just blog until I get bored!) and so I don't want to click on dead links... And I think that my various blogrolls are too long to allow me to use Blogger's "latest post" option.

So, I have spent this evening on a hunting expedition. The blogroll has been trimmed, and I have removed quite a few items. There were no hard-and-fast rules as to when I decided a blog was "dead" - sometimes I know that posting is light for a specific reason, and occasionally I've left a blog up "just in case." If you find that I've removed your blog and you want to be reinstated (or you want to be added) then just leave a message in the com-box.

Humanae Vitae Forty Years On

When I returned to the Church, nearly 16 years ago (ouch... tempus fugit and all that!) I found I had a lot to learn, as my initial catechesis had been so woefully inadequate. I didn't know, for example, that the Real Presence was actually, well, real. Oh, as a teenager I "knew" that superstitious and ignorant peasants in the Middle Ages had believed in Transubstantiation, but I thought that idea had been ditched in modern times... since Vatican II at any rate (thinking about it, I may have been more perceptive than I originally gave myself credit for!)

But on my reversion, one thing seemed clear. The main reason for my rejection of God and the Church was my own arrogance: I was of a scientific inclination, and for me that meant that, unless you could produce proof that God existed, then he didn't. So, in order to avoid making the same mistake again, I made the decision to accept all that the Church taught. All of it. No exceptions.

I realised that I wouldn't always understand the logic behind the teachings, but, by the grace of God, I understood that, where my own reason protested against something, I would make an act of humility and accept that it was my reason which was faulty, not that of the Church.

Almost immediately, I ran into the "problem" of contraception. I couldn't quite get my head round it. I was fine on the "no sex before marriage" issue, that made sense. But I couldn't understand why married couples were forbidden to use contraception. It didn't apply to me, I wasn't married, but I wanted to know why.

But I had made my decision, and I accepted that the Church was right, that there must be a reason. Maybe it was part of my formation by God, because no sooner had I assented to the infallibility of the Church's teachings in this matter, I came across Humanae Vitae.

Wow. What an eye-opener. Of course, I had the benefit of 25 years' hindsight. But reading the predictions made by Pope Paul VI sent shivers down my spine: it all seemed to be happening just as he warned it would.

It's now 40 years on. The encyclical is no less prophetic, and I'd say that things are even worse than Pope Paul VI ever thought possible. Don't just take my word for it: Mary Eberstadt, a research fellow at the Hoover Institution, has written an excellent article on Humanae Vitae, explaining exactly how the predictions have been fulfilled, using secular sources as evidence.

Mantilla-twitch to the Curt Jester.

Publication Of The New Missal...

I'm not entirely sure why what appears to be a simple exercise in translation is taking so long. I guess that if ICEL hadn't mucked it up so badly last time, there wouldn't have been such a fuss this time round... though, to be frank, I can't see why they didn't just stick to the translation given in my St. Andrew's Missal...

...oh, yeah, I forgot. We're too thick to understand words of more than two syllables.

This is despite the claims by succeeding Governments (of whatever political affiliation) that literacy is improving year-on-year, and that exam standards are comparable to those of twenty years ago.

Ok.... and the moon is made of green cheese, and my post on womynpriests was deadly serious.

And there's a bridge I'd like to sell you...

However, it seems that the USCCB has released the following information...

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops has received approval (recognitio) from the Holy See’s Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments for the new English-language translation of the Order of Mass (Ordo Missae).

This is the first section of the translation of the third edition of the Roman Missal. It includes most of the texts used in every celebration of the Mass, including the responses that will be said by the people.

In its letter, the Congregation pointed out that while the texts are binding, the approval “does not intend that these texts are to be put into use immediately.”

Cardinal Francis Arinze, Prefect of the Congregation, explained the reasons for providing the text at this time. The purpose is to provide “time for the pastoral preparation of priests, deacons and for appropriate catechesis of the lay faithful. It will likewise facilitate the devising of musical settings for parts of the Mass.”

The text is covered by copyright law and the Statutes of the International Commission on English in the Liturgy.

The more significant changes of the people’s parts are:

1. et cum spiritu tuo is rendered as “And with your spirit”
2. In the Confiteor, the text “through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault” has been added
3. The Gloria has been translated differently and the structure is different from the present text
4. In the Preface dialogue the translation of “Dignum et justum est” is “It is right and just”
5. The first line of the Sanctus now reads “Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of hosts”
6. The response of the people at the Ecce Agnus Dei is “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.”

At this time, no date is available as to when the entire translation of the Roman Missal will be released.

Actually, it looks as if they have taken the translation from my St. Andrew's Missal... I wonder if the copyright can be challenged on the basis that it's more than 50 years old?

And rumour has it that the Gloria is the one used at the WYD in Sydney... for which the texts and score were published... and approval for reproduction given as long as no money is involved.

Twitch of the mantilla to the New Liturgical Movement.

A Short-Answer Meme...

The oceanic jewel, Karen, has tagged me for a meme on her blog... and then she sat back and waited to see if I'd notice! Well, I did (because I check her blog daily), but there were a few other posts I wanted to get out first. Also, this one looked fiendishly difficult, as I tend to want to "explain" everything (that's the teacher bit of me!) Completing the answers in single words might be beyond me...

1. Where is your cell phone? Charging

2. Your significant other? God

3. Your hair? Blonde

4. Your mother? German

5. Your father? Dead

6. Your favourite things? Books

7. Your dream last night? Forgotten

8. Your favourite drink? Coffee

9. Your dream/goal? Heaven

10. The room you’re in? Front

11. Your church? Catholic

12. Your fear? Pain

13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? Anywhere

14. Where were you last night? Home

15. What you’re not? Attractive

16. Muffins? Ummm...

17. One of your wish list items? Cleaner

18. Where you grew up? London

19. The last thing you did? Blogged

20. What are you wearing? Clothes

21. Your TV? Unplugged

22. Your pets? Feline

23. Your computer? Important

24. Your life? Entertaining

25. Your mood? Variable

26. Missing someone? Dad

27. Your car? Indispensable

28. Something you’re not wearing? Earrings

29. Favourite store? Online

30. Your Summer? Started

31. Like (love) someone? Friends

32. Your favourite colour? Black

33. Last time you laughed? Lunchtime

34. Last time you cried? Armageddon

35. Who will re-post this? Bloggers!

Ha, did it... even if I'm not entirely happy with some of the answers...

The Bad Kitty Song...

This made me laugh... twitch of the mantilla to Fr. Erik (but only a small one... I don't want the kitty cat to chase it!)

A Non-Blonde Joke...

His Hermeneuticalness has posted on a proposal to set up a Society of Pope Paul VI. The proposal was printed in that miserable excuse for a Catholic publication known in Traddie circles as The Bitter Pill, (nicknamed The Suppository by Ttony), so it was probably a serious proposal as the contributors are not noted for their sense of humour in liturgical matters... Anyway, it reminded me of the following joke, which, for a change, doesn't involve blondes (well, not unless you really want it to!)

You are stuck in a lift with a terrorist, a paedophile and a liturgist. You have a gun with two bullets. Who do you shoot?

(Check the com-box for the answer!)

I Have Seen The Error Of My Ways...

Having seen these photos on the Curt Jester's excellent blog, I have been inspired. I feel sure that I am called and chosen... I have a vocation to the ordained priesthood. YES ! I want to become a womynpriest.

BUT... not just any old womynpriest. I like Latin, and snazzy vestments, and I believe in Tradition, and so I am totally convinced that I am called to be a Traddy womynpriest.

So, I have a few questions for my soon-to-be-fellow clerics:

(1) Should I remove my mantilla while being ordained to the Minor Order of exorcist?

(2) Does anyone know whether buckled shoes are available with stiletto heels?

(3) What action should one take when a false nail falls into the chalice after the Consecration? (Ditto for false eyelashes!)

(4) Would a clerical tonsure remove the need to have my roots re-touched?

(5) How can one remove lipstick stains from a purificator?

(6) Are tie-dye stoles obligatory? (because I really prefer embroidered ones!)

(7) Is it permissible to knit when assisting in choir?

I'm sure that there are plenty of issues which need clarification... feel free to add them to the com-box.

UPDATE: It just occurred to me... this "Seal of the Confessional" thing... it doesn't actually apply to really juicy bits of gossip, does it? I mean, what else can one talk about at the monthly parish coffee-and-cake mornings??

Death And Dumb Blonde...

Paulinus put a joke in the com-box which combines death and a dumb blonde in a most gratifyingly un-PC manner, so I couldn't let it languish in obscurity (going by the dearth of comments, very few readers actually follow the link through to the com-box...! That was a HINT, people!!)

A man who just died is delivered to a local mortuary wearing an expensive, expertly tailored black suit.

The female blonde mortician asks the deceased's wife how she would like the body dressed. She points out that the man does look good in the black suit he is already wearing.

The widow, however, says that she always thought her husband looked his best in blue, and that she wants him in a blue suit.

She gives the blonde mortician a blank cheque and says, "I don't care what it costs, but please have my husband in a blue suit for the viewing."

The woman returns the next day for the wake. To her delight, she finds her husband dressed in a gorgeous blue suit with a subtle chalk stripe; the suit fits him perfectly.

She says to the mortician, "Whatever this cost, I'm very satisfied. You did an excellent job and I'm very grateful. How much did you spend?"

To her astonishment, the blonde mortician presents her with the blank cheque.

"There's no charge," she says.

"No, really," the woman remonstrates, "I must compensate you for the cost of that exquisite blue suit!"

"Honestly, ma'am," the blonde replies, "it cost nothing. You see, a deceased gentleman of about your husband's size was brought in shortly after you left yesterday, and he was wearing an attractive blue suit. I asked his wife if she minded him going to his grave wearing a black suit instead, and she said it made no difference as long as he looked nice...

"...So I just switched the heads."