After about 6 weeks of cold, wet, changeable, windy, sunny weather.... a short patch of settled sunshine has begun.
Yesterday I felt sufficiently energised to trot down to St. Pugin's to hear a high mass with great music. OMG. If Mrs Bogle hadn't put me off the faith of my fathers - this hammered another couple of nails into the coffin. It was the 1962 Latin rite, celebrated by a sallow, unkind looking priest called John Saward. His Latin pronunciation was beautiful, very Italian sounding - no doubt the product of years in Rome. It was all done back to the people, everything including gospels in Latin - only the sermon in English (wish it had been in Latin too - then I wouldn't have understood so much of the sectarian, authoritarian stuff). It did not feel inclusive or engaged with the people - it was performed rather than - well, what should an act of worship be? It was an extraordinary spectacle - although there were some very odd clergy there... and a vast gang of "simple faithful" pilgrims... from an organisation called "A Day with Mary" - who organised a procession with a flower clad statue processing around the greens of the West cliff, singing Ave Maria and saying rosaries. Clare and I got into the church in the middle of a full Latin litany of Loreto (don't think I've said a full one of those for years... and never in latin : turra eburnea - ora pro nobis, rosa mystica - ora pro nobis etc.). Some of the music was very beautiful and moving and any moments of spiritual stirring were during those moments. I did pray a bit, but I felt at the end of the Mass that this has been God's way of telling me not to go back to the Church!
After Mass Clare came back for wine and we hung out for ages - then she went off to hear more music - and then later, came to us for supper. We had our first barbecue in the garden - fantastic hot charcoal, only slightly spoiled by not very exciting meat from local butcher - sausages, chinese ribs, thin beef steaks and pork chops. We had asparagus, salad and fried aubergines... and then some coconut cake with blueberry fool (something I've just invented). Then M and Clare and I saw the sun set and the dusk fade and sat in the dark with blankets on us for hours - then we went in, and eventually M went to bed and Clare and I carried on talking until 2.00pm when I rudely suggested she leave!
Needless to say, I felt utterly crap the following morning - but eventually forced myself to get up and M, Finn and I went to the beach - where there was swimming! Amazing. I paddled, I might have swum if I hadn't been feeling so ghastly. Then we lay in the sun toasting and reading. Finn dug himself a hole to sit in - and we chatted. We made our way up the beach and stopped at Alexandra's for a drink (2 spritzers) and a snack - garlic bread and olives and a pizza - we began talking to the couple at the next table - really nice people. I especially liked the woman, felt she was intellectually curious and probably quite fun. It turned out they are the people who are now operating the Maritime Museum - a useful contact I think. He is keen to work with the Summer Squall - which is great.
Then we came home - where, despite exhaustion, I managed to make chicken baked in mango chutney (very good - my own invention!) with rice, beans and a tomato, pepper and courgette thing - it was delicious... followed by last night's pudding - plus some new homemade Oreo cookie ice cream - also good.
I must say that this is very detailed and perhaps a little boring - BUT - there's a reason, because it was - apart from the hangover - a perfect summer weekend... a barbecue, a friend around, a trip to the beach, a friendly conversation with strangers... and not too expensive. The sensation of feeling warm and happy and unworried has been rare in the last few months - so is to be cherished.
When we began to make our way home, I felt too knackered to go any further, so I waited with the baggage and M came to get me. While I was standing there a elderly lady, leading a tugging dog, spoke to me. She was a local woman, in her 60s/70s... only 3 teeth, she just smiled and said "Hasn't it been a lovely day? I hope it goes on like this!"
I replied that I'd heard there were a few more days like this to come. She was so full of joy - she made me feel very happy and blessed and glad to be able to share more words with a stranger. There are so many good people in the world, and just experiencing a bit of her pleasure in life was a great treat - and infected me with a similar delight!
Yesterday I felt sufficiently energised to trot down to St. Pugin's to hear a high mass with great music. OMG. If Mrs Bogle hadn't put me off the faith of my fathers - this hammered another couple of nails into the coffin. It was the 1962 Latin rite, celebrated by a sallow, unkind looking priest called John Saward. His Latin pronunciation was beautiful, very Italian sounding - no doubt the product of years in Rome. It was all done back to the people, everything including gospels in Latin - only the sermon in English (wish it had been in Latin too - then I wouldn't have understood so much of the sectarian, authoritarian stuff). It did not feel inclusive or engaged with the people - it was performed rather than - well, what should an act of worship be? It was an extraordinary spectacle - although there were some very odd clergy there... and a vast gang of "simple faithful" pilgrims... from an organisation called "A Day with Mary" - who organised a procession with a flower clad statue processing around the greens of the West cliff, singing Ave Maria and saying rosaries. Clare and I got into the church in the middle of a full Latin litany of Loreto (don't think I've said a full one of those for years... and never in latin : turra eburnea - ora pro nobis, rosa mystica - ora pro nobis etc.). Some of the music was very beautiful and moving and any moments of spiritual stirring were during those moments. I did pray a bit, but I felt at the end of the Mass that this has been God's way of telling me not to go back to the Church!
After Mass Clare came back for wine and we hung out for ages - then she went off to hear more music - and then later, came to us for supper. We had our first barbecue in the garden - fantastic hot charcoal, only slightly spoiled by not very exciting meat from local butcher - sausages, chinese ribs, thin beef steaks and pork chops. We had asparagus, salad and fried aubergines... and then some coconut cake with blueberry fool (something I've just invented). Then M and Clare and I saw the sun set and the dusk fade and sat in the dark with blankets on us for hours - then we went in, and eventually M went to bed and Clare and I carried on talking until 2.00pm when I rudely suggested she leave!
Needless to say, I felt utterly crap the following morning - but eventually forced myself to get up and M, Finn and I went to the beach - where there was swimming! Amazing. I paddled, I might have swum if I hadn't been feeling so ghastly. Then we lay in the sun toasting and reading. Finn dug himself a hole to sit in - and we chatted. We made our way up the beach and stopped at Alexandra's for a drink (2 spritzers) and a snack - garlic bread and olives and a pizza - we began talking to the couple at the next table - really nice people. I especially liked the woman, felt she was intellectually curious and probably quite fun. It turned out they are the people who are now operating the Maritime Museum - a useful contact I think. He is keen to work with the Summer Squall - which is great.
Then we came home - where, despite exhaustion, I managed to make chicken baked in mango chutney (very good - my own invention!) with rice, beans and a tomato, pepper and courgette thing - it was delicious... followed by last night's pudding - plus some new homemade Oreo cookie ice cream - also good.
I must say that this is very detailed and perhaps a little boring - BUT - there's a reason, because it was - apart from the hangover - a perfect summer weekend... a barbecue, a friend around, a trip to the beach, a friendly conversation with strangers... and not too expensive. The sensation of feeling warm and happy and unworried has been rare in the last few months - so is to be cherished.
When we began to make our way home, I felt too knackered to go any further, so I waited with the baggage and M came to get me. While I was standing there a elderly lady, leading a tugging dog, spoke to me. She was a local woman, in her 60s/70s... only 3 teeth, she just smiled and said "Hasn't it been a lovely day? I hope it goes on like this!"
I replied that I'd heard there were a few more days like this to come. She was so full of joy - she made me feel very happy and blessed and glad to be able to share more words with a stranger. There are so many good people in the world, and just experiencing a bit of her pleasure in life was a great treat - and infected me with a similar delight!
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