Back to St Cecilia's

Off I went last Sunday on what was planned to be a group of three of us learning with Sr Bernadette and at the last minute, alas, turned into just me. There was another person in the house, so I was not all alone and of course the sisters are extremely hospitable. Anyway, after Vespers and Compline on Sunday and fish and chips, and Terce and Mass on Monday, it was time for ...the lesson. I attempted to write everything I was told onto my Triplex, rendering the page a little busy, so I could photocopy it on my return and send it to my partners in crime. And I got to sing toute seule, me and Sr Bernadette. Mm. I'm still alive. So hard was I trying to sing exactly as she was - though realistically how could I possibly do that? - that I kept breathing at the same time as her and the more I listened, the more I could tell when she was going to breath and then, breathed with her. Oh dear. One thing that we two in the Garth decided was though we were only sharing the place for 24 hours, we felt like we'd been there for ages and also how quickly you get sucked into the monastery timetable. Bong, must dash.