Pat at the launderette didn't recogsantanize me...

The Fellowship of the String keyboard department learnt an important lesson about preparing the song you're going to sing at our gig at The Half Moon pub on Friday. Good job the music stand was on stage - it was more the guitar chords played standing up that were my undoing, rather than anything at the ivories (the plastics?) - anyhow, the old musical confidence took a bit of a knock. Haven't felt that nervous during a concert for many a half moon...

Thursday's offering at Heythrop College with Joey Dreycott had gone fine, and La Indomitabila de Nordwall and I did a sort of double act of friends of the choir with poetry and song; The people that walked in darkness (from The Messiah) went down quite well and Indomitable did a couple of poems including Our Lady of the Pirates. She's quite a performer and a very good storyteller.

Saturday (post Half Moon) was encouragingly successful. Holy Trinity Clappers was hosted by the Sun pub and we presented about 50 mins of carol singing and poetry and Alpha invite. David Isherwood was amusing about a particular verse of Away in a Manger...

'Christian children all must be
mild obedient good as He'

"So no pressure kids then!"

I've never particularly noticed any under 12's buckling under the parental pressures of the theology of the Christmas carol, but still it is a bit Victorian... I remember James Odgers from Besom making similar comments about All things Bright and Beautiful - "the poor man in his castle, the rich man at his gate... He ordered their estate..." 'pish tish!!'

I know what he means - it does stick a bit in the throat, especially in this day and age, then again 'riches come from the Lord'. I suppose unjust political and economic systems come from other places (the culture of fear I have been reading about this morning), but the Lord is in charge. I suppose we have to do our bit for the rule of Heaven and that includes not accepting injustice especially if it's inherent in the law of the Landed.

Anyhow, back at the Sun, mulled wine was drunk and carols sung to an assembled crowd including Chris Macarthy and Whiting plus one that seemed appreciative - reassuring after Friday's debacle. HTCC have been asked to provide the same again please to The Falcon at Clapham North on Wednesday (7pm on.)

I spotted a Walrus across the Esca breakfast table this morning - Aviary had bilocated briefly and (yes she knows about this) a Walrus had merged with her DNA briefly as she portalled somewhere over the south Atlantic - such are the mysteries of the Lord: fortunately the confusion in the spacetime continuum was quickly healed by some guffawing prayers and vanity slaying merriment. (See picture - thanks for allowing me to put it up!)

Earlier in the Saturday, the Piano Inspector was on duty for his erstwhile one-time childhood sweethood Isobel (plus her two little munchkins and their grandmother). Long-time the manxome foe we sought (in Merton) until we arrived to the sounding of Tomtoms at Hanna Pianos. The charming Charlie showed us quickly away to the other showroom where the 'bargain' pianos under £3000 where stashed, a brace deep.

Fortunately for hubby Marcus' summer holiday plans, Isobel was persuaded to come in roughly in budget and the munchkin duo of Sophie and Lucy Grace are now booked for their Music Scholarship auditions in 2019 and 2021, retroversely.

Sunday was a long day - some poor chap (or even chappess I suppose) had ended up under a train so there was a bit of reroutage via Barnes Bridge which meant a lovely Priest Powered lift through wonderful Richmond Park, sparkling in the frostmorn. (Please God there is more fruit from their life than that slender yet wonderful redemption.) The trees in the park reminded me of the deer - something that had never occurred to me - think antlers! The deer were all busily foraging in the undergrowth. What a treat to see it all in the 930am-on-a–Sunday-morning quiet! Richmond always reminds me of Africa - the plains thing: not of course the flight-path-to–Heathrow–overhead planes thing.

After Mass, another Priest Powered lift to Number 121, and then after lunch chez JMB et al, to St Mary Magdalene's Wandsworth Common for our 3 hour marathon of a rehearsal and then 1 hour service. Candles; fairy lights; organ music; readings from the Nativity story by Anglicans in Robes; Beards and Bairds and Bairdian bairns with Medici Magsters singing going onto poetry plus open fires and mulled pies and minced wine: Yulemas doesn't get much better.

Father Christmas put in his usual trip to the Willow Nursery school of Wandsworth Road on Thursday morning. Ho Ho Ho! I chatted to a few folk 'in character' (Pat at the launderette didn't recogsantanize me -  a master of disguise Watson; a master!)  and generally nearly got run over by a decidedly Wintervalish bus driver. Ha ha ha.

This is another John Craven of a blog post I'm afraid - have been to busy to think much, despite what my facebook status says.

Grazia.