Category: blog

response

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A remarkable thing happened tonight at a congregational meeting on the Draft Anglican Covenant.   We came to a conclusion.  It took three hours, mind, and there was some attrition along the way.  But by the end of it we had formed a small but coherent response to some of the Faith and Order board’s questions on the Anglican Covenant that is (mostly) in the group’s own words, and that will not be the same as the rector’s personal response.   You’d never guess what went into it by looking at it.

Now, on a different note:  is no one going to take the bait lurking in last night’s post?  Whence the title?  (gold stars await)

five a day

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Sight

The bright black eyes and shining fur of a stoat popping up through the hood (bonnet) of my car as I waited for the ferry.

Sound

The tapping of leathery hooves on the road and the shifting of wool as sheep surrounded the car.

Smell

The warm sea and kelp at Kilchattan bay.

Taste

The just picked peas, a surprise gift, eaten immediately on the drive home.

Touch

The cool smooth runner bean, waxy and soft.

peas & beans

grand-cat

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My father claims that he is going to try to find my blog, so this is a gratuitous picture of the grand-cat to say welcome.

The rest of you can indulge my posting the family photo album by simply shaking your heads and saying, ‘she is silly about that cat…’

sunday

morning song

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One of my Religious friends is off on her summer holidays. Did you know nuns got holidays?

Now, we all know what priests do on their holidays. They visit friends and family, and live out their ecclesiastical fantasies (big important provosts visit tiny rural congregations, where life must seem simpler; rectors of tiny rural congregations go to splendid big cathedrals where smoke billows and choirs sing). But nuns? What do nuns do on their holidays?

Apparently, they wake singing responsorial psalms. Or rather –responsorial not-psalms.

All join in now. Opening responses, followed by verses set to your favourite chant:

V. The littlest worm
R. The littlest worm

V. That I ever saw
R. That I ever saw

V. Was curled up
R. Was curled up

V. In my soda straw
R. In my soda straw

Ps:
The littlest worm I ever saw *
was curled up in my soda straw.

He said to me ‘don’t take a sip*
for if you do I’ll surely slip.’

I took a sip, and he went down*
right through my pipe. He must have drowned.

He was my pal, he was my friend*
there is no more, this is the end.

Now don’t you fret, now do not fear*
that little worm had scuba gear.

Glory be to the Father and to the Son*
and to the Holy Spirit.

As it was in the beginning, is now*
and shall be forever. Amen.