Bara brith, the unpublished bolshy bits.
The 'and another thing, whilst I'm on the subject,' renta rant posts.
'Cos you could really go to town on this Tablet thing.
Or not.
I don't have any photos of Mass. I don't generally look at the Priest anyway. I don't want to be an expert in checking he's doing the right thing. That's his responsibility. Let him get on with it, I say. The less I know, the less I can be distracted. (Grandma RIP Rule No.1 Never criticise Priests or Mothers. They have things down to a tee in West Clare.)
The Cardinal Castrillon Hoyos Mass at Westminster Cathedral was quite something. Something you could really get excited about. Outside on the Piazza afterwards there was a great buzz. Big crowd. The huge congregation, waves of people kneeling as the Cardinal passed. The singing. The atmosphere.... But really, as with all intangible things, you just had to be there.
Someone once said to me,'How are you?' and I was very touched by their kindness, but it sounds like nothing in the re-telling.
(Sorry that does sound somewhat melancholic. Quick put the Mahler 10 on. Time for the 'Aach, Alma!' bit. Cue late Romantic Austrian angst.)
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