...and it's the day after the Baird book launch at the Sackville Street bookshop, Sotheran's, which was okay - in that sort of okayish way that things sometimes are. About 45 choir members, who were roughly in a 7:1 ratio of guests.
Still, it is done, and it was fun.
Bookshop had the feel of a part of the Harry Potter filmset: all Diagon Alley and gnomic shop assistants who'd been hiding behind the Architecture bookshelves since before Merlin was a lad... emerging only to read ancient texts for Indiana Jones and knight errants heading in search of grails, holy and otherwise.
Choir sang quite well I thought. Enjoyed accompanying. Nice time at pub after and then chasing the Scotsman in the car in the rain.
And now back at cafe Esca to tip tap away while Aviary awakes from her German slumbers somewhere in Nether Clapham and gives us a bell.
Enabled a my.opera.com account today (oh the irony!) Which seems happy to transfer largeish files across the e portals of the intersphere - maybe it's sumo/opera-singer sized processors can cope with my file sharing at last after the disappointing performance by AOL. One would have thought that America on line would be capable of some 'going large...'
Life gets back into the swing of the thing again after the week away from reality that was Herefordshire. My bodyclock took a bit of a blow I can tell you and the Harmer twitchiness was twitching after several days on Greek timekeeping back in London...
Esca's filling up now with mums and tiddlyum's enjoying the Friday feeling of a bit of space a the end of the week.
Feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus today. Good day for a cooked breakfast perhaps...
Why do computer answers (on the question mark buttons of programmes) not provide the ability to click on what they are telling you to do??? I.E. why do we have to try and remember numerous degrees of jargon and process in order to do the operation we're looking up instead of just being able to click on the process described...? Answers on a postcard please!
There's a little toddler tucking into some bacon just behind Chloe's screen... ooh now she's enjoying a sausage... 'Is that nice?' says Mum.
Scottish accent...
I always feel a bit shy saying my name when on the phone in a public place... chap just other side of table has told me (inadvertently) that his name is Daniel. I suppose he could be on the phone to himself or no-one and all that solipsistic paranoia. I remember Jack Lewis asking in a book once how one knew there was a city called New York and how we would prove that if we hadn't definitively been there. How too I suppose can you prove the name of anything?
Guess it's that part of us that is in definition by where it touches others that becomes our name, our identity etc.
This is just musing and wonderings. Nothing much to say today.
Still, it was a good morning for a cooked brekafast! And for that....
Molto grazie!
Friday, 15 June 2012
Friday, 8 June 2012
I'm in heaven... with Peter Skellon...
Maybe that is too grand a claim (yes it is Peter!) but the strains of that blessed Noel Cowardesque tune were wafting around in my subconscious this past 12 days or so, perhaps because Hugh-Guy Lorriman had mentioned it as being the soundtrack to a previous production that the Gatesdene Players had put on at St Richards', perhaps also because we just had such a fantastic time...
The blessed season started with the Mogendorff 19th anniversary - managed to come up with a parody of My Fair Lady... 'the best friend of course/ of Richard Mogendorff/ lives right here on the street where you live'... which seemed to go down nicely: good evening providing piano bar entertainment with Eamonn - loved the poem Marilyn (see picture). Unusual crowd and very nice with it, featuring pro(?) ukelele player and several dancers. Wonderful weather too...
Then Sunday; Literary Lunch and Musical Munch at Tarragon Persian Bar, here on Lavender Hill. 30 or so guests including Susi MacInnes's brood of four. Many thanks to those who came along and especially Barnaby, Sarah and Beverly for helping with the music side of things. Thanks too to Kami and Simin for wonderful ambience and food and service. Special thanks to Elaine for picking me up from Harper Hall at 9pm that eve and driving us to Herefordshire (plus copious amounts of equipment...)
Peter Jones and a crew of merry pranksters greeted us at St Richards' school at gone 1am ish sprawled acorss the hallway sofa and chairs... all seemed quiet and sleepy until they SPRANG into life!
A wonderful week at the school in the depths of the countryside, far, far away from Nodnol and its trifling concerns(!?) such as bank statements and bills... Aah! blissful idyll....
We managed two performances outdoors which was a great mercy as the clouds were very much looming - prayer support from Aviary amongst others - better weather in the earlier part of the week which was a blessing and a half. The school was wonderfully Victorian and gentlemanly, the views over the Malvern Hills most restful and easing to the eye after London greyness.
I could wax too lyrical and list all concerned but special thanks to Greg Lorriman and Laura Callaghan our noble quartermasters who provided top notch fare at knock down cost. Joyous times!
Then back to Nodnol (thanks again Elaine!) to a dreamy capital empty of traffic but full of rain and Reigning - then to the Barranettes Jubilee party to play the piano till about 1am. Much fun! Imo's birthday happily sung at the stroke of Midnight.
Then....
(yes there's more...)
to St James' Park on the Monday to wave a flag with the best of them.
Molto, molto grazie!
The blessed season started with the Mogendorff 19th anniversary - managed to come up with a parody of My Fair Lady... 'the best friend of course/ of Richard Mogendorff/ lives right here on the street where you live'... which seemed to go down nicely: good evening providing piano bar entertainment with Eamonn - loved the poem Marilyn (see picture). Unusual crowd and very nice with it, featuring pro(?) ukelele player and several dancers. Wonderful weather too...
Then Sunday; Literary Lunch and Musical Munch at Tarragon Persian Bar, here on Lavender Hill. 30 or so guests including Susi MacInnes's brood of four. Many thanks to those who came along and especially Barnaby, Sarah and Beverly for helping with the music side of things. Thanks too to Kami and Simin for wonderful ambience and food and service. Special thanks to Elaine for picking me up from Harper Hall at 9pm that eve and driving us to Herefordshire (plus copious amounts of equipment...)
Peter Jones and a crew of merry pranksters greeted us at St Richards' school at gone 1am ish sprawled acorss the hallway sofa and chairs... all seemed quiet and sleepy until they SPRANG into life!
A wonderful week at the school in the depths of the countryside, far, far away from Nodnol and its trifling concerns(!?) such as bank statements and bills... Aah! blissful idyll....
We managed two performances outdoors which was a great mercy as the clouds were very much looming - prayer support from Aviary amongst others - better weather in the earlier part of the week which was a blessing and a half. The school was wonderfully Victorian and gentlemanly, the views over the Malvern Hills most restful and easing to the eye after London greyness.
I could wax too lyrical and list all concerned but special thanks to Greg Lorriman and Laura Callaghan our noble quartermasters who provided top notch fare at knock down cost. Joyous times!
Then back to Nodnol (thanks again Elaine!) to a dreamy capital empty of traffic but full of rain and Reigning - then to the Barranettes Jubilee party to play the piano till about 1am. Much fun! Imo's birthday happily sung at the stroke of Midnight.
Then....
(yes there's more...)
to St James' Park on the Monday to wave a flag with the best of them.
Molto, molto grazie!
Thursday, 24 May 2012
Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner...
...that I love Nodnol Town? Maybe it's because there's pretty much a new street to go down every day, or a new shop or church or sight or concert to see?
Stood for about 10 mins this morning looking in the window of an estate agent in Victoria (Hathaway's?) checking out their portofolio of period properties on offer. Some of the houses in this fair city biggle the mond. Trouble is that if you elect to live in the 'conservation area of St James', with access to the park and the convenience of Victoria Station' it's a pretty long walk to find a paper shop or a 7-11 grocers past office hours. Great for pubs though, as every Westminster schoolboy and schoolgirl will know.
But nowadays I am genuinely happy living in Lavender Hill, where the instrument shops nestle next to the model, toy, puppet and fish n chip places. Here we have no infestations of phone shops a la King's Road, nor their profusion of any-posh-town retail outlets: not for us a sea of sandals stretching to the false Oasis points of the Starbucks...
Here, where one knows the locals, and the un-Commonness of Clapham is kept at bay by the estates to the Northside of the Hill, where Pat at the launderette has been in small employ since about 1970 and busy with the Harper account since 1998, it is a far cry from the City boys of SW3 and SW1. Here, in this rural idyll, not a hundred thousand furlongs from Sloane Square, we know the meaning of saying hello to our neighbours (in court) and being welcomed to help ourselves to those same neighbours goods without question (from the flytip sites outside the flats). Here all is peace and plenty: (there's plenty of things in pieces littering the streets): here where the family is celebrated and mourned (he's not getting married again? Oh goody! One less gangster to avoid outside the Londis.)
Sardonism aside (is term correct?), I love Lavender Cross - my name for the junction of Lavender Hill/Queenstown Road/ Cedars Road and Wandsworth Road - you know it, dear SW London commuter? That cosy traffic lights where Caffe Nero views a little Sainsbury's and a bookies at the far reaches of SW11, before the sweep up to the Elysian heights of Clapham Common.
I've taken of early to pounding the pavements of L.C. at 530am dressed in appropriate joggeth garb in my version of hitting 40. Anyone out there having the same phenomena? On the plus side, I'm sleeping well; on the neg: I'm spending more on food! Eating healthily though and really relishing it (as opposed to eating wealthily and with lots of relish).
Nodnol at that sweet and tender hour is another country - they do things differently there. Better class of driver and limousine parked outside Ashtar, our local nightspot... the pigeons are more chilflapxed for starters... the pavements cleaner and emptier. The buses run more fleets per foot, the shops are more shut, the planes have their earmuffs on and the skies are hopeful and, at this time of year, Vernal... the vermin are hungry in the binrooms mind.
This Sunday 27th May, at Tarragon Persian Restaurant, hosted by me courtesy of Kami and Simin the owners, there's to be the 5th Literary Lunch. (43 Lavender Hill, London SW11 5QW). A host of youtube TV stars will entertain and amuse, delight and provoke to deliberation the assembled crowd with words, music and song and we shall feast (sort your own bill though guys) on whatever sweetmeats the kitchen and wallet affords. Only in Lavender Hill, where the buildings are pastel and the cubicles at Starsteam sauna over the road are a bit sweaty... OR SO I'M RELIABLY INFORMED!
From 1pm. Feel free to turn up and be nice.
GRAZIE!
Stood for about 10 mins this morning looking in the window of an estate agent in Victoria (Hathaway's?) checking out their portofolio of period properties on offer. Some of the houses in this fair city biggle the mond. Trouble is that if you elect to live in the 'conservation area of St James', with access to the park and the convenience of Victoria Station' it's a pretty long walk to find a paper shop or a 7-11 grocers past office hours. Great for pubs though, as every Westminster schoolboy and schoolgirl will know.
But nowadays I am genuinely happy living in Lavender Hill, where the instrument shops nestle next to the model, toy, puppet and fish n chip places. Here we have no infestations of phone shops a la King's Road, nor their profusion of any-posh-town retail outlets: not for us a sea of sandals stretching to the false Oasis points of the Starbucks...
Here, where one knows the locals, and the un-Commonness of Clapham is kept at bay by the estates to the Northside of the Hill, where Pat at the launderette has been in small employ since about 1970 and busy with the Harper account since 1998, it is a far cry from the City boys of SW3 and SW1. Here, in this rural idyll, not a hundred thousand furlongs from Sloane Square, we know the meaning of saying hello to our neighbours (in court) and being welcomed to help ourselves to those same neighbours goods without question (from the flytip sites outside the flats). Here all is peace and plenty: (there's plenty of things in pieces littering the streets): here where the family is celebrated and mourned (he's not getting married again? Oh goody! One less gangster to avoid outside the Londis.)
Sardonism aside (is term correct?), I love Lavender Cross - my name for the junction of Lavender Hill/Queenstown Road/ Cedars Road and Wandsworth Road - you know it, dear SW London commuter? That cosy traffic lights where Caffe Nero views a little Sainsbury's and a bookies at the far reaches of SW11, before the sweep up to the Elysian heights of Clapham Common.
I've taken of early to pounding the pavements of L.C. at 530am dressed in appropriate joggeth garb in my version of hitting 40. Anyone out there having the same phenomena? On the plus side, I'm sleeping well; on the neg: I'm spending more on food! Eating healthily though and really relishing it (as opposed to eating wealthily and with lots of relish).
Nodnol at that sweet and tender hour is another country - they do things differently there. Better class of driver and limousine parked outside Ashtar, our local nightspot... the pigeons are more chilflapxed for starters... the pavements cleaner and emptier. The buses run more fleets per foot, the shops are more shut, the planes have their earmuffs on and the skies are hopeful and, at this time of year, Vernal... the vermin are hungry in the binrooms mind.
This Sunday 27th May, at Tarragon Persian Restaurant, hosted by me courtesy of Kami and Simin the owners, there's to be the 5th Literary Lunch. (43 Lavender Hill, London SW11 5QW). A host of youtube TV stars will entertain and amuse, delight and provoke to deliberation the assembled crowd with words, music and song and we shall feast (sort your own bill though guys) on whatever sweetmeats the kitchen and wallet affords. Only in Lavender Hill, where the buildings are pastel and the cubicles at Starsteam sauna over the road are a bit sweaty... OR SO I'M RELIABLY INFORMED!
From 1pm. Feel free to turn up and be nice.
GRAZIE!
Monday, 21 May 2012
Soiree Chez Barran etc.
Jane reckons there were about 50 of us, maybe 55 - certainly there were 21 performers or thereabouts: the day started at ten to three A.M., early even for us urban monks, earlier still for urbane monks in trunks who like to dunk the hunks of their croissant in the coffee at more like 10am than a couple of hours before sunrise... (I have become such a Martha these days - as in busy old Martha who was bustling about chez Lazarus doing the dishes whilst her wiser sister Mary was listening carefully to the giver of hands. Gospel of John in case you're wondering.)
The casualty of the day was my German pronunciation - very embarassing, particularly as there were certainly a few German speakers in the room - I can't even say I was following orders... I chose those pieces myself and had singularly failed to do enough practice... hmmmmmmmmm. 'It was the Rupert, he made me choose them.... oh alright, no he didn't.'
Lucy sang like a dream as usual, Barnaby was very musical, Regina and I duetted nicely, Alison played beautifully, Beverly did her stuff, Sarah was a sensation and the Revelation Rock Gospel had us clapping along and clicking our fingers... well, not at the same time of course.
Many thanks to Jane and Susi for hosting and inviting and allowing this to take place. Sarah and I both stayed the night severally chez Barran.
That was last week...
Saturday was Nicola Robinson's birthday party featuring uber ivory tickler David Gordon plus Hal Brindley and the Harper on larynx and keys. It finally happened after 37 years...
yes... the piano lid fell on my fingers...
Ouch! Just about caught it but it was a ghastly sensation and PTL no damage done. I was playing Luck be a Lady tonight (oh the irony!) and the lady "responsible" for being a bit careless with her page turning was the fascinating Sandra (retired Diplomatic Service and Cabinet Office.) NOT completely her fault as the piano was loose-lidded but I didn't thank her particularly.
Note to non-musicians: NEVER, EVER DO THAT! NOT EVEN IN JEST!
Sitting in Black Lab Cafe in Clapham Common having just tip-tapped some lyrics for a parody of Heartbreak Hotel...
Rather amusing. Should get its first official outing this coming Sunday at the Literary Lunch.
Took the photo of chap with his son on the tube (with permission). No idea of his or his son's name but he looked very sweet the little boy and the dad looked very paternal and rather noble.
Thank you Sir!
The casualty of the day was my German pronunciation - very embarassing, particularly as there were certainly a few German speakers in the room - I can't even say I was following orders... I chose those pieces myself and had singularly failed to do enough practice... hmmmmmmmmm. 'It was the Rupert, he made me choose them.... oh alright, no he didn't.'
Lucy sang like a dream as usual, Barnaby was very musical, Regina and I duetted nicely, Alison played beautifully, Beverly did her stuff, Sarah was a sensation and the Revelation Rock Gospel had us clapping along and clicking our fingers... well, not at the same time of course.
Many thanks to Jane and Susi for hosting and inviting and allowing this to take place. Sarah and I both stayed the night severally chez Barran.
That was last week...
Saturday was Nicola Robinson's birthday party featuring uber ivory tickler David Gordon plus Hal Brindley and the Harper on larynx and keys. It finally happened after 37 years...
yes... the piano lid fell on my fingers...
Ouch! Just about caught it but it was a ghastly sensation and PTL no damage done. I was playing Luck be a Lady tonight (oh the irony!) and the lady "responsible" for being a bit careless with her page turning was the fascinating Sandra (retired Diplomatic Service and Cabinet Office.) NOT completely her fault as the piano was loose-lidded but I didn't thank her particularly.
Note to non-musicians: NEVER, EVER DO THAT! NOT EVEN IN JEST!
Sitting in Black Lab Cafe in Clapham Common having just tip-tapped some lyrics for a parody of Heartbreak Hotel...
Rather amusing. Should get its first official outing this coming Sunday at the Literary Lunch.
Took the photo of chap with his son on the tube (with permission). No idea of his or his son's name but he looked very sweet the little boy and the dad looked very paternal and rather noble.
Thank you Sir!
Friday, 11 May 2012
Powerdown with Dreth, the Newton's Nest line manager
Back at Newton's Nest, the cyber village here in Pimlico, R2-D2 Motherboards parked next to the Millenium Falcon spare parts, it's all go here: fish 'n chips powered programmers are just waking up for the night with a data deadline awaiting...
It's been several weeks since I've swung by the old office to see my line manager Dreth Newton at my SW1 Hotdesk... there goes the Battphone with another sale on e-bay... inches away from the keypad is the charming Rizla Teeth (Spelling?) on the television, our chain-smoking news presenter giving hourly updates on the state of the nation... the 4-Horsemen-of-the-Apocalypse weather report has filtered down to the Revelation that Tony Blair and Gordon Brown personally went to school with Rebecca Brooks and left her warm private messages on David Cameron's locker saying 'Love oo *laugh*'....
'Rebecca Brooks should have been sacked...'
(What do you mean by that P.M.: as in 'in the sack'?)
Forgive this wha-hey-hey-imsical nonsense: I think it's the long hours that are getting to me. I'm sure I just heard the word 'egregious' used on Channel 4 outside of Newsnight,,, must be hallucinating!
First piano lesson of the day was in another part of Pimlico @ 0915h, following various shenanigans with leaving-the-music-behind-at-home (doh!) and repeat bus journeys. First time for everything (yes but no but!)
Let me hasten to add that the day began several hours before that...
(Do I overuse the elipsis...? ...? ...?)
All part of the duties and the joy for a busy 'whatever I am' - (Musician etc.)
Bluebell the Harp is getting her inaugural outing this weekend - screwdriver and time to remove her 4 nimble feet so she can be transported willing: the Barran-Pouleaupot soiree countdown beginneth and there's still rather a lot of practise to be done.
This has been without doubt, the wettest drought ever
(Another gem from Channel 4.)
That internet thing they've invented (I gather it's big in China) is not great for practise time: somehow tapping away here in Newton's Cyber-Nest is more attractive than summoning the energy to change into my organ shoes or singers larynx.
Maybe I need an i-7 processor instead of my (well I think it's competent) i-5? Perhaps I should increase my RAM?
Sadly, that's not available to you at the moment Captain, but if you wish upon a star and make at least a google of google searches you will find the website at the end of the rainbow where all things are possible....
So I just keep on googling...?
When you tweet upon a *, doesn't matter who you are...
LOL x
It's been several weeks since I've swung by the old office to see my line manager Dreth Newton at my SW1 Hotdesk... there goes the Battphone with another sale on e-bay... inches away from the keypad is the charming Rizla Teeth (Spelling?) on the television, our chain-smoking news presenter giving hourly updates on the state of the nation... the 4-Horsemen-of-the-Apocalypse weather report has filtered down to the Revelation that Tony Blair and Gordon Brown personally went to school with Rebecca Brooks and left her warm private messages on David Cameron's locker saying 'Love oo *laugh*'....
'Rebecca Brooks should have been sacked...'
(What do you mean by that P.M.: as in 'in the sack'?)
Forgive this wha-hey-hey-imsical nonsense: I think it's the long hours that are getting to me. I'm sure I just heard the word 'egregious' used on Channel 4 outside of Newsnight,,, must be hallucinating!
First piano lesson of the day was in another part of Pimlico @ 0915h, following various shenanigans with leaving-the-music-behind-at-home (doh!) and repeat bus journeys. First time for everything (yes but no but!)
Let me hasten to add that the day began several hours before that...
(Do I overuse the elipsis...? ...? ...?)
All part of the duties and the joy for a busy 'whatever I am' - (Musician etc.)
Bluebell the Harp is getting her inaugural outing this weekend - screwdriver and time to remove her 4 nimble feet so she can be transported willing: the Barran-Pouleaupot soiree countdown beginneth and there's still rather a lot of practise to be done.
This has been without doubt, the wettest drought ever
(Another gem from Channel 4.)
That internet thing they've invented (I gather it's big in China) is not great for practise time: somehow tapping away here in Newton's Cyber-Nest is more attractive than summoning the energy to change into my organ shoes or singers larynx.
Maybe I need an i-7 processor instead of my (well I think it's competent) i-5? Perhaps I should increase my RAM?
Sadly, that's not available to you at the moment Captain, but if you wish upon a star and make at least a google of google searches you will find the website at the end of the rainbow where all things are possible....
So I just keep on googling...?
When you tweet upon a *, doesn't matter who you are...
LOL x
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Somewhere in the e-thosphere...
"Well I never - Sherlock Holmes I do declare! And today of all days... will wonders never cease..."
"Moriarty... very good to see you and your hideout... nice curtains!"
"All the better for hiding behind... and...? Why... great blistering barnacles!"
"The very same - good to see you too Professor M!"
"Professor Calculus, here and in my living room - such an honour! But - one moment... who have we here in the Sari?"
"Salaam gentlemen and villains"
"Blessed MOTHER THERESA!"
"No need to stand-up please..."
"How is Heaven? I've always wandered."
"All the better for seeing you - as we Blessed say.. but look! Over there, with the mad hair!"
"Ludwig Van Beethoven at your service."
"Herr Beethoven - was kann wir dich..."
"...Was freude! freude!"
"Yo dudes!"
"Oh, it's Keanu Reeves and the cast of Bill and Ted's excellent adventure... hello Mr Death, Ted etc etc... (Tsch... Hollywood!)"
"Manuel... what are you doing out of VHS format... this is no time for mentioning the..."
"Edith Wharton?"
"No, Pablo Picasso actually. Easy mistake to... Yoda?"
"These are not the characters you're looking for. Fictional we are."
(Every day scene in the youtube common room.)
"Moriarty... very good to see you and your hideout... nice curtains!"
"All the better for hiding behind... and...? Why... great blistering barnacles!"
"The very same - good to see you too Professor M!"
"Professor Calculus, here and in my living room - such an honour! But - one moment... who have we here in the Sari?"
"Salaam gentlemen and villains"
"Blessed MOTHER THERESA!"
"No need to stand-up please..."
"How is Heaven? I've always wandered."
"All the better for seeing you - as we Blessed say.. but look! Over there, with the mad hair!"
"Ludwig Van Beethoven at your service."
"Herr Beethoven - was kann wir dich..."
"...Was freude! freude!"
"Yo dudes!"
"Oh, it's Keanu Reeves and the cast of Bill and Ted's excellent adventure... hello Mr Death, Ted etc etc... (Tsch... Hollywood!)"
"Manuel... what are you doing out of VHS format... this is no time for mentioning the..."
"Edith Wharton?"
"No, Pablo Picasso actually. Easy mistake to... Yoda?"
"These are not the characters you're looking for. Fictional we are."
(Every day scene in the youtube common room.)
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Perseverance builds character they say
The Brothers Grimm seem to have descended post Bank-Holiday weekend.
Hmmm.
Daddy Grimm, Mummy Grimm and Baby Grimm.
Maybe it's the weather?
Then again maybe it's the litany of Grimmness that's been percolating my way... I'm not going to list all the Grimms (and their pesky meddling cousins) who've been griming my way, but please pray for me and my friends (if you're that way inclined - maybe even if you're not!)
The one slender flame of redemption that has whisked alight is that there was apparently a 'life saving' fire at an abortion clinic at a critical moment, so my t'interwebbed chums inform me.
Does that seem a poor cause for rejoicing to some of you?
Well, maybe Magadouf is more Sodom and Gomorrah than Anglican Evensong...
More brimstone and schism cocktails anyone?
"Count it all joy..."
Hope is a cardinal virtue: hopefully possessed by Cardinals as well as the laity - we have to practise it, lift the training weights of our Grimms and black dogs and learn the strength for the fight.
Gosh! There've been a few tough rounds going on!
Grazie, grazie, grazie.
Hmmm.
Daddy Grimm, Mummy Grimm and Baby Grimm.
Maybe it's the weather?
Then again maybe it's the litany of Grimmness that's been percolating my way... I'm not going to list all the Grimms (and their pesky meddling cousins) who've been griming my way, but please pray for me and my friends (if you're that way inclined - maybe even if you're not!)
The one slender flame of redemption that has whisked alight is that there was apparently a 'life saving' fire at an abortion clinic at a critical moment, so my t'interwebbed chums inform me.
Does that seem a poor cause for rejoicing to some of you?
Well, maybe Magadouf is more Sodom and Gomorrah than Anglican Evensong...
More brimstone and schism cocktails anyone?
"Count it all joy..."
Hope is a cardinal virtue: hopefully possessed by Cardinals as well as the laity - we have to practise it, lift the training weights of our Grimms and black dogs and learn the strength for the fight.
Gosh! There've been a few tough rounds going on!
Grazie, grazie, grazie.
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