Every year it’s the same.

The eggs, milk and flour are waiting.  The syrup is decanted and the lemons poised.  The house is as tidy as it’s likely to get, and the coffee maker is hissing away.

Three congregations with the challenge of ferry time-tables and narrow roads through the hills means that the party starts early, at 4pm.  But there are locals too, which means we don’t finish till about 10pm.

So, in the hour that remains before I start cooking, shall I burn ash, write a sermon, or prepare the pew sheets, do you suppose?

I can never really focus on Ash Wednesday till the last pancake has been eaten.   Which makes for an early morning of austerity and fervent prayer, I assure you.

3 thoughts on “tradition”

  1. Addendum: Thanks be to God for wardens who come early and stay late, pancake parties that end an hour sooner than expected, and service booklets that appear as if my magic from the liturgy file. Now, time to battle with flame resistang palms. (oh bother, I’ve forgotten the bread.)

  2. Great pancake party, great tradition. We should continue it. Please leave the American pancake recipe with us for next year. You have taught us well. I think we now all know the correct accoutrements (butter and maple syrup, not lemon and sugar!).

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