Lord H and I got up in time to show our faces at church today, which was okay really. Some lovely traditional hymns, and I do always like that. As long as they get the right tunes of course - on the whole they did. St Mary's had a visiting priest today, who seemed very soothing. Just what you need on a Sunday. Mind you, he started off his sermon with an apology for talking about his visit to the family mausoleum and therefore sounding pompous. Actually, Lord H and I are much taken with the concept of having a family mausoleum that you regularly visit - ah, the vaults, the vaults, the family vaults ... - and would do it ourselves if either of us had one. We do wonder what in fact he might have been doing there - were they putting someone to rest or taking someone away? Perhaps they had to make sure old Uncle Albert wasn't up to his usual tricks and were there to put a stake through the old codger's heart or some such excitement? Did the priest have to check his supplies of garlic and silver bullets before he set off?? All very thrilling, you know - and probably not the thought processes the priest meant to encourage. Especially as the point of the sermon was that we turned our minds away from death and towards resurrection. My dears, by then I was already planning the decor on my own personal vault. Something fetching in gold and black perhaps?...
Talking of matters religious, Lord H and I were both saddened and sadly amused by the recent reporting of a harassment campaign against a rural woman vicar that included throwing a lighted candle in her car. Sad to say, harassment campaigns against women priests are par for the course and have been since they were invented. Naturally the culprits should be soundly whipped and locked in the vaults with old Uncle Albert, but we were amused by the concept of church abuse. Is this the precursor of would-be agressors scrawling the Nicene Creed over rectory walls in blood and sending hate mail in Latin? How very Midsomer Murders, if so ... There's something peculiarly British about it all indeed. Revolution for the praying classes.
Today I have managed another 500 words or so to Hallsfoot's Battle and am about to take Annyeke on a journey back to her past. I think it's going to be part of her battle, and will somehow help Simon. At least I hope so. I've also finally booked our December holiday (winter birding and other chilly thrills) at The Briarfields Hotel where we stayed in August. Well, we enjoyed it so much then that we thought we'd go back. So good to get it sorted out though - something to look forward to always being welcome.
Tonight, I shall be desperate to know the Strictly Come Dancing results, and then it's the pain and catharsis of the last episode of Tess. Prepare to weep indeed. We've also finally watched our video of Antony Sher in God on Trial. Wonderful stuff, but very very bleak. Not to mention thought-provoking. Marvellous to see such quality on TV though. A rare treat.
This week's haiku is:
Glamour frocks, slashed shirts,
fleckerls, glitz and Claudia.
I'm hooked on Strictly.
Yes, I did look up what I thought was "fleckle", but apparently it's "fleckerl" or "flekerl" - but I don't know which. Please enlighten me if you do!
Today's nice things:
1. Church amusements