My room is beginning to take shape finally, and Niffy (the bright pink corduroy Magnifi Cat) has found a home in my pyjama drawer, though I'm about to try and squeeze a huge writing desk into the room, possibly sacrificing my bed (actually found the same design of desk I had at Uni in a garage here - wierd!).
I've spent my time finding a niche for work (and consequently have done pretty much everything thus far) but am tending towards the cows and sheep. Well, the sheep are evil (angry eyes), but the cows seem to be good listeners and I like talking to things that aren't people.
On Sunday night I managed to get roped into something a little different. Wanting to have a brief chat with Br Damian, I may have inadvertently signed up to go along to something called an 'alternative eucharist.' Having not much idea what this might entail and thinking it might be interesting, I went along.
It turned out that 'alternative eucharist' really meant 'ukelele mass' for the feast of the Stigmata of St Francis at a church in Bristol (not at all nearby) via a marvellous afternoon tea at the local Reader's house. I had had a brief brush with the ukelele at school when a physics teacher thought it would be a good idea to teach about thirty of us the "instrument" so that we could form the chorus of a musical about Albert Einstein. I have to say, Br Damian's rendition of various Franciscan hymns dressed in habit, surplice, stole and ukelele was similarly surreal, but equally fun.
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| Damian contemplates the transcendant nature of the ukelele before mass |
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| No idea what's about to hit them |
We are all beginning to find things to occupy our free time. Some are learning new languages, others are writing poetry or learning instruments. Lyndon is knitting. No comment whatsoever.
I spent some time on my day off (when I had drunk three cups of coffee and couldn't sit still any more) having a wander around and found the chapel of St Mary of the Angels. An old coal shed, it was looking rather mournful with about 100 spiders living in the roof and walls and their... ermmm... leavings staining every surface and statue.
Five hours of scrubbing later, the chapel is looking a bit perkier, so I am due some intercessions from Our Lady perhaps, and I am frantically trying to get visitors to actually use it. Lyndon and I are plotting a minor renovation... starting with an icon, of course. Any ideas for the best Marian icon are welcome.
The bell has rung for dinner (my new favourite sound) so I must dash. It is surprising how an afternoon in the garden pulling up weeds can work up an appetite. It must be all the fresh air... I'm not a fatty.
Could Lyndon perhaps knit an icon at least for the time being? I'm a knitter myself and I gather knitting objects to then be stuffed (e.g. most usually children's toys) isn't *actually* all that complicated. You knit lots of different sized rectangles and then stuff 'em and sew 'em up.
ReplyDeleteThis is Clare M's sister Jenny here, in case you're wondering (as you well might...!). I've actually been reading your blog all the way through. Started with the most recent entry, scrolled down the first page and then jumped back to the oldest entry and am meeting myself in the middle.
Really, really enjoyed your more recent posts about synod and about communion and things. And it's a very interesting insight into a very different life. Thought-provoking. Thank you.