Richard Mogenmacdorf you genius: that was such fun- but next time sign the visitors book please!
(We also did Joseph; good old-fashioned '70s fun!)
Margate by 1045am today, for Father Eric Mead's funeral at St Anne's Cliftonville. 700? maybe 800? attended. Archbishop Peter very sensible; although less sensible was His Grace's car being stuck in the depths of the car park. In ironic celebration of deceased Father's dislike of the place, Mum and I proceeded by Hyundai to The Turner Contemptible Gallery, hard by the seaweed beds of Margate harbour. Ah yes! My nose remembers it well. The only sulphury whiff of the day, please God.
Gallery really very good (sorry dear Fr.E. and gentle Barnarnaby) and they've added to the somewhat slender collection every visit I've made. Rodin's The Kiss, from the Tate, is quite superb, especially framed by the giant sunset window and the sea, the sea, the shimmering selerous sea.
The Contemptible had me thinking of our TFoTS rendez-vous lunch this summer bank holiday, when Aviary and Lulu plus Barackananaby arrived a la Margate to meet the gathered Bonet plus Mum and me there, and unwrap the plan of our crazy 2 days of playing and eating and firework watching and pool-playing and late- night-staying-upping and sandy-beach-swimming and how over those few days, dear General Leah Goodtime was persuaded that Gulliver Nibble was added to the Tracey Emin's tent adornment dictionary of conquests and conquerors. Yahoo!
Met with Joey Draycott in The Strand yesterthursereve at 9pm after a 30 minute rehearsal (andamadasaharperdashacrossthetubeandthenthebridgebacktoclappers) for Sunday at HTCC at Suzie McKinnes' friend Suzie's house (plus a harperharmer lookalike - Bob - on bass.) Joey and I just about sorted Friday's concert programme and got busy with the pencil and the hymn sheet solo allocation. Dear Milo Blackley's very kindly donated Apple G4 very unkindly alloweth a mere 21 minutes of working time away from the plugpoint; so upon our being summarilary kicked out of the nethergatury regions of Leon at 2300h, and the welcome through the Pearly Gates of Pizza Express welcomed us (but without the long desired 3 point pin point: such was the strawloss-work we suffered) it was a race against time before we settled to talking of Nestorianism and Docetism and kenosis and Philippians 2:99 for want of the nail of electricity. For those of you scratching your Bible Indexes at this juncture, it's a kind of ice-cream theology: gentle reader, allow me to explain.
We imitate our Lord by emptying the Chocolate Glory dish (yes - there is one called that on the Pz. Ex. menu), yet we retain our glass bowl - we do not cling to equality with the cook - and take the nature of a customer, being found in hungry likeness, and humbling ourselves to sharing one portion between two spoons, and being obedient until the last jot and tittle of chocolate sauce has gone. Even scraping the dish.
I'm thinking through that analogy and am a little bit puzzled. Probably another triumph for Comedy over Theology. I haven't kept tabs on the score but PERHAPS I SHOULD! Judgement day ready reckoner - available to buy now (confessional version) or pay and pay and pay later ( !)
"Clearly."
0037hours
Christ the King feast with Indomitable de Nordwall is very close so perhaps it's Nod time here at St Anthony's Harpertage, Lavender Cross, Nodnol.
Sleeeeeeeeep!
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