I'm on the move...

Due to "chronic problems" with blogger, I have decided to move host.

You'll find me at:

http://pontesisto.wordpress.com/

Hope to see you there!

Jackie's back...!

Hoorah!

http://catholicmomof10part3.blogspot.com/

In the hour of my distress...

Today, some dear friends will bid farewell to a treasured father and grandfather, known affectionately as “Bod”. With almost a month’s delay between his death and obsequies, the emotional strain has been tremendous. There is something very acute in the pain one feels at the loss of a parent; that source of wisdom and guidance has left this physical world and the bereaved is now alone. In truth, we hope and trust that our loved one is closer to us than we might imagine, by virtue of the Cross and the grace which flows from it; soon to be among the multitude which no man can number (Cf Apoc. 7).

There is a beautiful poem by the C16 English poet, Robert Herrick, “His Litany to the Holy Spirit”. I came across this poem when I was nine. During the late 1970s I used to spend summer vacations, and other holidays, in Cirencester, due to my mother’s illness. She had terminal cancer and her death was drawn out over several years. I think my father and grandmother felt these extended holidays would provide a young boy with some form of respite.

It worked. I had wonderful times staying with our kind family friends. Fr John Beck, and his wife Susan, had been friends of my family for many years. They moved from Cheltenham to Cirencester in the mid 1970s, where Fr John assumed the position of Priest-Organist at the magnificent parish Church of S John the Baptist. They were a formidable team who turned the choir of men’s and boys’ voices into one of the finest parish church choirs in the country; indeed, Cirencester Parish Church choir was possibly better than some cathedrals at the time. While staying with the Becks, I, too, sang in the choir. In addition to building up their own choir, they arranged weeklong choir courses for choristers from the surrounding counties. These courses were always over subscribed, such was their popularity. It was during these weeks, that I came to know Charles Hazlewood, now a renowned musician, conductor and BBC presenter. I used to enjoy long conversations with his father, who in addition to his role as Vicar of Prestbury, was exorcist for the Anglican Diocese of Gloucester. (His parochial living was apposite, as the village of Prestbury, on the outskirts of Cheltenham, is noted for being one of the most haunted places in the UK. Even the church has a ghost!)

The Becks had a magnificent medieval home in Cecily Hill with an amazing garden, which featured in all the national gardening magazines. I claimed the entire loft space as my domain and when I wasn’t enjoying the vast house, I could wander, safely, into the adjacent Cirencester Park- a vast grassy avenue of about six miles leading to Sapperton. Amidst the trees were follies and summerhouses, such as “Pope’s Seat”, named after the poet who frequented the park when a houseguest of the then Lord Bathurst. Some readers may know of the park’s royal connections, notably polo and the Prince Charles.

This was the childhood of a bygone age; even back then, it was not typical, such were the rapid encroaches of modern life under which we travail today. I had great fun, so that looking back, I feel awkward. I know my mother was happy in the knowledge that I was contented and well looked after; but, nonetheless, to have such happy memories of times which were also marked by my mother’s pain seems wrong. Perhaps that is why certain things from that time have remained so vivid in my mind. The Herrick poem is one such example. I sang it as a solo one evening at Evensong; my mother, well enough to travel to Cirencester, sat in a wheelchair with the most serene smile on her face, listening as I warbled. However, it is more than just a pretty piece of music. This poem reaches into our innermost solitude, that part of our being (soma, psycho and pneuma) that no other mortal being can ever know, and reminds us that we are not alone. The Sweet Spirit is ever-comforting us, always our companion and advocate. I’ve reproduced the text of the poem beneath the video. I think you’ll agree, it’s powerful!

As you listen to “His Litany to the Holy Spirit”, please remember “Bod” and his loving family in your prayers.



In the hour of my distress,
When temptations me oppress,
And when I my sins confess,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When I lie within my bed,
Sick in heart and sick in head,
And with doubts discomforted,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the house doth sigh and weep,
And the world is drown'd in sleep,
Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the artless doctor sees
No one hope, but on his fees,
And his skill runs on the lees,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When his potion and his pill
Has, or none, or little skill,
Meet for nothing, but to kill ;
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the passing bell doth toll,
And the furies in a shoal
Come to fright a parting soul,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the tapers now burn blue,
And the comforters are few,
And that number more than true,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the priest his last hath prayed,
And I nod to what is said,
'Cause my speech is now decayed,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When, God knows, I'm toss'd about,
Either with despair, or doubt ;
Yet before the glass be out,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the tempter me pursu'th
With the sins of all my youth,
And half damns me with untruth,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the flames and hellish cries
Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes,
And all terrors me surprise,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

When the judgment is reveal'd,
And that open'd which was seal'd,
When to Thee I have appeal'd,
Sweet Spirit, comfort me !

Tainted Victory

An article by John Malon (contributing editor to Inside the Vatican magazine) that appeared at Renew America.

It is a great moment indeed in the history of our country that at long last an African-American has been elected President of the United States. We are still within living memory of fire hoses being turned on black people for nothing more than demanding the equality promised in the Constitution. All who were horrified by these events occurring in the 1960s and before, and the legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King and his tragic assassination have a right to tears of joy at this moment.

But there is a problem; a problem that taints what should otherwise be a great moment for all Americans who feel pain and shame over the legacy of slavery and subsequent discrimination that remained for a century after emancipation.

Read more

The Torch of Faith & S Gabriel Communications International

If, like me, you are still feeling low about Jackie, then you might like to visit Angeline and Alan and their British ministry, "Torch of Faith".

In their own words:

By God’s Grace we are a Catholic married couple, committed to living and spreading the authentic teachings of the Catholic Church in the service of the New Evangelization.

In 2004 we completed a 30 day novena to St. Joseph the Worker, at the end of which we felt the Lord calling us to answer Pope John Paul II’s renewal of the Gospel call and ‘Put out into the deep’ by travelling to America for two years of study for the MA in Theology and Christian Ministry at the Franciscan University of Steubenville in Ohio.

The Lord had allowed for our home to double in value during our previous two years of ownership and to sell in just two hours which helped us to fund our journeys, studies and overseas accommodation.

In Steubenville we were privileged to witness a renaissance of the Catholic Faith amongst thousands of joyful young people who were taking seriously the search for truth and holiness; to be led by prayerful priests with great love and integrity; to live amongst many beautiful families who were striving to follow Christ as His disciples and to raise their children in loving, Christian environments.

We were also blessed to deepen our faith and our love and understanding of the Church under such teachers as Dr. Scott Hahn, Dr. Regis Martin and Dr. Alan Schreck. And in the summer of 2005 we enjoyed an amazing retreat at Mother Angelica’s community of sisters in the Shrine of the Most Blessed Sacrament in Hanceville, Alabama, and the remarkable EWTN base at 5817, Old Leeds Road in Birmingham, Alabama!

At the graduation ceremony in the Franciscan University chapel of Christ the King in 2006, we were commissioned with our fellow graduates by Fr. Terence Henry T.O.R., to take the authentic truth of freedom in Jesus Christ and His Holy Catholic Church out into a wounded and lost post-modern world.

Back in the United Kingdom we are now working with the Lord to launch and develop the Torch of The Faith ministry, under the patronage of St. Joseph the Worker, Our Lady of Fatima and St. Dominic Savio.

We praise God that He has blessed us with gifts to use in His service and a sincere passion to share the Good News of Jesus Christ!

Angeline has a creative, artistic talent for designing and making Christian cards and crafts to be sold via our shop page and on stalls at Christian events throughout the country.

Angeline also has experience of leading banner workshops to help a variety of groups in parishes and schools to reflect on the Sacred Scriptures through art.

Alan draws on wide ranging pastoral experiences, a BA in Theology and an MA in Theology and Christian Ministry, plus a gift for public speaking to bring the Good News of Jesus Christ to groups of all ages in parishes, schools and colleges, universities and youth groups.

Another wonderful ministry available to British Catholics is that of Raymond de Souza of S Gabriel Communications International. Although based in Australia, Raymond, whom many will know from EWTN, will be touring the UK this spring. If you'd like to book Raymond to address your parish or group, please contact Bernadette at Dowry of Mary Productions.

This is an opportunity not to be missed as Raymond is the Founder and Director of Saint Gabriel Communications, Australia’s first international outreach promoting Catholic Apologetics. He is also the Chairman of the New Evangelization Office of the National Shrine of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in the United States and EWTN program host.

Watch this video to see Marcus Grodi and Raymond during the EWTN 25 years celebration.

Catholic Mom of Ten

Mrs Jackie Parkes, the redoubtable “Catholic Mom of 10”, has just emailed to say that for family reasons, she has removed her blogs. She asked me to post this information.

I would like to thank her for being such a fabulous blogger and blogosphere friend.

She was my inspiration.

Best wishes, Jackie.

As is frequently said to me...

... "That's another fine mess you've gotten me into!"

Make yourself a nice cup of tea and enjoy this...

My thanks to all who have wished my aunt well. Unfortunately, the operation, which had been scheduled for yesterday, was cancelled at the last minute due to the discovery of an infection. She is now back home. My thanks to the friends who helped provide transportation to and from the hospital, which proved to be a great help to me, personally. If the antibiotics are successful, the operation might be rescheduled for about a fortnight’s time. As you might imagine, she had prepared herself – mentally, physically and spiritually – however, I’m pleased to say that she’s handling matters superbly.

At times of great stress, I fall back on two things: my faith, of course; and, my sense of humour. The latter, I should like to share with you here.

Being guilty of forwarding the odd humorous email to friends, I was reminded by a dear priest friend that the email of the “Australian ‘brickie’s’ accident report”, which is currently doing the rounds, was actually a rehash of the far funnier “Bricklayer’s Lament”; It was given as part of the 1958 address to the Oxford Union by the musician and raconteur, Gerard Hoffnung. Listening to this clip, you would be forgiven for thinking that he was anything other than a doddery English eccentric. In fact, he was born in Berlin, of Jewish parents, at the start of the Second World War. He went on to become an inspirational advocate of this country’s cultural life, especially in the field of serious contemporary music, as his heartfelt appeal at the conclusion of this clip suggests.

So, as the title of this post recommends, make yourself comfortable and enjoy the next twenty-six minutes of Gerard Hoffnung. I guarantee, he'll have you howling with laughter.

The mp3 of the address is available, here, free. It's worth uploading to your iPod.

I can't help but feel that this man of culture deserves eine kleine Hommage, and so, as icing on the cake, here is the wonderful overture to Mozart's opera, Die Entführung aus Dem Serail (The Abduction from the Seraglio). Superb!

My hero...

Un clin d'oeil a Pierre de Boucau pour la video. Merci.

Here's something lovely...

The Pilgrim Consort

singing (in mufti... hmm!) the Marian anthem,

Salve Regina «Montserratina»,

by the Catalan composer Pablo Casals,

in the sanctuary of the

Shrine and Abbey Church of our Lady of Montserrat.

You'll need Real Player to access this video file. Download it here.

The website of the Abbey.

Please do watch...

... EWTN tonight, 9pm GMT, for "Life on the Rock".


Why? Well, apart from feeling young, again (as LOTR is a show for young people - younger than I - and probably you), you will hear some music composed by Dowry of Mary Production's own BERNADETTE BEVANS... Yeah!... Way Cool!... You Go, Girl!... and other such youthful exclamations.

Bernadette's music features during video excerpts from last week's "Walk for Life" marchs in Washington DC.

Discover more about the excellent Dowry of Mary Productions, here.

Philip, contra Mundum

Ever had one of those weeks where the whole world seems against you? An exaggeration, of course, but all too often recently, problems seem to be queuing up, waiting to smack me in the “chops”. That C1 BCE wag (I said, "BCE", just to annoy you), Publilius Syrus, hit the nail on the head with this little number: “Brevis ipsa vita est sed malis fit longior.” (roughly, Our short life is made longer by misfortunes.) Ho-ho, I do have a case of the “Les Miserables”! It struck me that Vaughn-Williams’ “March Past of the Kitchen Utensils” from “The Wasps” might provide a good soundtrack to the steady, but reluctant plodding which marks my present level of motivation; the staccato ending to each musical phrase representing the kicking of the proverbial boot.

Anyway, enough of that, because I’ve had some first-rate moments, too. For a start, “Squelly”, a young teacher (or, “daydreamer”, as she describes herself, who has a beautiful newish blog), gave me a lovely award for having a blog which, with others (of course!) is “… exceedingly charming.” The award’s terms continue: “These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.” “… cleverly-written text…” - there’s humility for you, ha-ha!

It’s very true, though; blogging does create some very good friendships - with people whom we may never meet this side of eternity. The way I flit across the Atlantic at the click of a mouse is nobody’s business. Imagine doing that only a few years ago!

… and so, here are my “charming eight” (+ 3):

The blog of a courtier
Auntie Joanna writes
BevansInc (Dowry of Mary Productions)
Catholic Down Under
Adrienne’s Catholic Corner
The Mulier Fortis
The Hermeneutic of Continuity
Mum of six
S Mary Magdalene, Brighton (aka Media Office for the Catholic Church in E & W) :-)
The Muniment Room
In hoc Signo Vinces

(I’ve been a little daring by including some of the blogosphere’s heavyweights, but I don’t see why they shouldn’t enjoy such an award.)

To the above list, I would have gladly added Jackie, the Catholic mom of ten, but departing “Brum” for Egypt tomorrow, she has far more important things to concern herself with, such as passports, suitcase weight restrictions, sun block, deodorant (for the stinky camels)… etc. I went to Sharm-el-Sheik exactly three years ago last week. It was an experience (!) and one that I would not really wish to repeat. As an innocent abroad, I’m pretty pathetic when the surroundings are a little too “exotic”. Trap me in the throngs of a souk and you’ll hear me scream out like one of Agatha Christie’s more delicate characters. I thought the touting of visas in the argybargy of the arrivals “lounge” of Sharm airport was odd enough, until, that was, I witnessed my first ritual animal slaughter in public. (I’d only gone out for postcards! – a lesson for all who seek the “real Egypt”.) I had to “retire from the scene” for a while! Hopefully, Jackie won’t have to endure too much of that on her hols, otherwise, it’ll be Skegness next year. Jackie, if you do read this ‘afore ye go, have a great time!!!

Changing the subject, but staying with Jackie, I was pleased to see that she’d posted about the Association for Latin Liturgy. On their “Events” page, are some pictures of a Solemn Mass and Vespers, celebrated in Gloucester Cathedral on the feast of the Visitation. (Regular readers will know my interest concerning the cathedral.)


Both celebrations employed some attractive blue vestments (as opposed to white). In my youth, it was the custom at the cathedral to use (Sarum) blue copes during Advent as at the time, they didn’t use (nasty popish) chasubles. I don’t know who supplied the vestments in these pictures, but I do know that the cathedral had some magnificent blue copes (which I daresay are gathering dust somewhere). You’ll find more pictures, here.

Keeping with vestments, if you’ve not already noticed these chaps, Charbel Vestments, pay a visit to their website. The standard of their workmanship is amazing and compares well to the dreary drip-dry vestments that most clergy favour these days.

The CTS Lent and Easter 2009 catalogue arrived this morning. I’m a huge fan of CTS which has met the challenge of modern marketing as well as any blue chip company, and with nothing like the budget. Its printed matter is excellent (both in quality and value!) and its new website, which has only been active some eight months, has proven so successful, it has increased the Society’s mission outreach well beyond these shores. As you might expect, in order to meet this new challenge, the CTS, which is also a registered charity, needs our financial support. Please do consider supporting this wonderful apostolate, enabling them to venture further into the Lord’s vineyard; which, if we read Matthew 21, is an obligation and not an option.


Items that jumped out of the catalogue were a selection of new liturgical resources, for both forms of the Roman Rite. For my birthday, my father gave me the republished (and revamped) 1962 missal, published by Baronius (as well as the two volume “Breviarium Romanum”, from Nova et Vetera, for Christmas – very lucky boy!); however, CTS now have a very reasonably priced EF missal for £4.95. Cheap enough for many parishes to buy whole stocks (ready for the traditional Masses they will be celebrating – ehem!), rather than wasting yet more money on the latest hogwash hymnbook from Mr McCrimmon’s empire. To help with catechesis, there are some tracts, such as “The Extraordinary Form of the Mass Explained”, by Fr Richard Whinder; “The History of the Mass Explained” by Fr Charles Dilke and “Catholic Traditionalism” by Dr Raymond Edwards. Each is priced at £1.95. What value!

Being the Lent and Easter catalogue, there are some interesting suggestions for spiritual reading, including “Lent, the Journey to Easter Joy”, which is a collection of the Holy Father’s recent addresses and homilies which have as their theme the urgent call to conversion. This too, is priced at £1.95.

The Bible for Prisoners Appeal, which I blogged about back in Advent, has proven to be a great success (not just because I blogged about it, you understand). So far, 1,700 Bibles have been funded from this appeal and already, 500 have been sent to prison chaplains, with the remaining 1,200 being distributed now. If you’d like to donate some Bibles to prisoners, CTS intend continuing the appeal into Lent. You’ll find more information, here.

Probably following so soon after my own bereavements, I missed the announcement last year of the death of Professor Henry Chadwick. I’m greatly saddened both at his passing and failing to have been aware of it at the time! Followers of ARCIC, will have know him as the “intelligent voice” of Anglicanism, resembling one of Waugh’s more suave characters. However, when he wasn’t trying to heal the rifts caused by the Henrician apostasy (and sometimes having to teach Catholics THEIR Faith!), he busied himself with old fashioned academia, having held the Regius Chairs of Divinty at both Oxford and Cambridge! As was highlighted in one of the obituaries: “To be a Head of House in both Oxford, as Dean of Christ Church and Cambridge, as Master of Peterhouse, the first for four hundred years to do so, speaks of his outstanding merit.” As we conclude this year’s “Week of Prayer for Christian Unity”, it seems apt to recall this intelligent and beautifully mannered gentleman. He did a great deal for the cause of Anglican-Roman Catholic unity, only to see his efforts smashed by the “uber- cool” liberals in the Anglican ascendancy, whose maxim, “Vox populi vox Dei” left the Holy Spirit redundant. (Nec audiendi qui solent dicere, vox populi, vox Dei, quum tumultuositas vulgi semper insaniae proxima sit. – Amen, to that!) They threw away all hope of reunion between Canterbury and Rome. This fact caused him great sadness, especially as he’d made the point against such folly many times. He was a man of rare qualities and I am proud to have known him, albeit as the equivalent of a stage door autograph hunter.

Notwithstanding its pagan provenance (and my somewhat tardy commemoration) I think Professor Chadwick would have appreciated this in tribute:

Through many countries and over many seas
I have come, brother, to these melancholy rites,
to show this final honour to the dead,
and speak, to what purpose?, to your silent ashes,
since now fate takes you, even you, from me.
Oh, brother, ripped away from me so cruelly,
now at least take these last offerings, blessed
by the tradition of our parents, gifts to the dead.
Accept, by custom, what a brother’s tears drown,
and, for eternity, brother, “Ave atque Vale”.

May he rest in peace.

Lastly, my aunt will be receiving the Sacrament of the Sick on Saturday, prior to her operation early on Thursday morning; thank you, all, for your continuing prayer.

Mgr William Smith STD

John Mallon has posted the following tribute to Mgr Smith:

We have lost yet another friend and great soldier in the battle for orthodoxy, the great moral theologian, Msgr. William Smith. He is the last of what I thought of as the great triumvirate of New York Monsignors, George Kelly, Michael Wrenn, and now William Smith. I was never an "official” member of the Fellowship of Catholic Scholars but I was always welcomed with warmth and affection at the few meetings I was blessed to attend especially by these priests—true priests in every sense.

In honor of Monsignor Smith I have just posted an in-depth interview I conducted with him for the Sooner Catholic in 1995 of which I was then editor. It was for interviews such as these that I was kicked to the street from my job by dissident clergy, landing flat on my face. In the following years I took heart that Msgr. Smith was on our side. In phone calls with Monsignor Kelly, as a perceptive, compassionate, manly priest, he would sense my discouragement and exclaim, “don’t be discouraged, we need you! We need you!”

Once when I called Msgr. Wrenn, he interrupted me saying, “I’ll send you $500!” Startled—because I didn’t call to ask for any money—though I need it badly—I said "Really?” and he said, “Well, we’ve got it! What’s your address?”

I also remember sitting at a table swapping war stories into the night after a Fellowship meeting with Fr. Joe Fessio, Jim and Helen Hitchcock, a then-obscure bishop from Washington state named Francis George, and Msgr. Smith. When someone related yet another egregious insult to the Truth, I noticed the fierce disgust and rage on Msgr. Smith’s face. I was impressed and comforted.

I could go on. I loved these three men, and now the last of them is gone from our sight. May they rest in peace and assist us now from on high. Imagine the welcome they received! Well done, good and faithful servants.

Mgr William Smith died on January 24, aged 69. He was a priest of the Archdiocese of New York, noted for his conservative doctrinal stance, and one of America's leading experts in the field of bioethics. He was also a professor of moral theology at Dunwoodie Seminary in New York and had hosted various programmes on EWTN concerning Canon Law and the Catechism of the Catholic Church.

Exaudivit Dominus deprecationem meam, Dominus orationem meam suscepit

Having questioned why we hear so little from the pulpit about the Gospel of Life in my last post; Father Anthony Glaysher, parish priest of S Mary's Catholic Church in Ryde, preached a corker of a homily which left the congregation in doubt, no doubt whatsoever, concerning the Church's teaching on both relativism and the evils of the Culture of Death.

Bravo, Father!

In God, we trust?

I’ve concluded that I must be psychic. This is good news; should I ever find myself without work, I can black out a few well-chosen teeth, don the dangly earrings and gaudy headscarf and open up a little booth on the end of Brighton’s Palace Pier (although I think Fr Ray Blake might have something to say, and it wouldn’t be terribly complimentary!). I guess caution might be advised as far as the earrings are concerned; having met some hearty feminist lecturers who favoured such aural ornamentation, the last thing I want is to be mistaken for a “new age” Germaine Greer. … but seriously, yet another sleepless night was followed by the morning’s news that my aunt’s operation is scheduled for a week Thursday. I must have sensed something was afoot. The rapidity of appointment is good, but also troubling, as her condition is clearly very grave. I’m afraid the worrying gene was applied very generously in my family’s genetic makeup. You think I’m bad; you should have met my mother! (Gosh, now I sound just like Maureen Lipman’s character, “Beattie”) However, in the words of S Paul (and Pope Benedict), “… in hope we are saved” and I have great hope in the Lord, as well as my aunt’s surgeon, who, over the past six years, has provided her with excellent care, and will, I’m sure, continue to do so.



In addition to my aunt and the hotel, I’ve a number of things twirling around the little grey cells at present. Some dear and very close friends lost their father in very tragic circumstances at the beginning of the week. They were a wonderful support to me, this time last year, and it would be appreciated if you could offer a prayer for the soul of Albert and remember his widow, children and grandchildren. There is a strong possibility that his death could have been avoided. As I know from my own experience, such a situation makes the pain more acute, at least until answers are found. It seems my intercession list becomes longer and longer, and in no small part, thanks to the “Culture of Death”!

Returning to my nocturnal diversions, I decided that sleep just wasn’t on the cards. After double Matins (which, I know, sounds like something from school days; but, in this case, was Office of Readings from the breviary of Paul VI, followed an hour later by “Ad Matutinum” from the “Breviarium Romanum” of Blessed John XXIII. I felt like an over-zealous Carthusian, although I don’t suppose the good brethren read the office tucked up in bed with a large mug of English Breakfast! I repaired to the “telly”, (having exhausted the hours until Lauds, what with the suppression of Prime!) and discovered to my horror, and notwithstanding 70 odd channels, there was absolutely nothing on. I had hoped that EWTN might have rebroadcast the magnificent witness that was the “XXXVIth Annual March for Life”, held yesterday in Washington DC, but I think I’d just missed it. The night before, I’d stayed up to watch the vigil Mass for Life, broadcast live from the glorious Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington DC, (thanks to EWTN and a generous grant from the Knights of Columbus, this telecast was available worldwide). This vast building was packed to the rafters with young people: clerics, seminarians, religious and laity; It was magnificent! If you’re ever in DC, you’ll find the basilica on the campus of the Catholic University. Well done America! Needless to say, the secular media channels, British and American, failed to mention the march from what I could make out.



Here in the UK, we don’t seem to enjoy that same grass root support, which makes me appreciate even more, the witness of British pro-life activists. Without the same firm backing as their American counterparts, they nonetheless continue to defend life. I’m very honoured to count among my online acquaintances, a young British lawyer who works tirelessly, on a pro bono basis, for the cause. On the occasions we have communicated, she has something on the go. I do wish we heard more from our pulpits about the Gospel of Life; perhaps that would galvanize the masses to make their voices heard?

After flicking through the various channels, I happened upon a discussion programme on “Press TV”, a new and seemingly pro-Islamic news channel, where the commentators (including a couple of “anti-Zionist” Jews!) argued that the BBC and Channel 4 (Britain’s public service broadcasters) were biased in favour of Israel. I must confess, that’s not my experience, but attempting to take sides in this tragic situation is a fool’s game. Why can’t both sides see the horrific consequences and recognize the need for dialogue? I hope that Mr Mitchell, the new envoy to the Middle East, will be able to knock the various heads together and produce the same successful outcome as he achieved in Ulster. The programme was hosted by Yvonne Ridley, sometime Daily Express journalist and Taliban prisoner, who is now devout Muslim. She’s also pretty odd politically – the “Respect” (sic) party, I believe; so, I’m not convinced her little chat show can be considered impartial, either.

Bored with TV, I dug out my recording of “Tristan and Isolde”, which granted, is not the most ideal of music to lull one back to sleep, but hey, so what – it’s good stuff! I settled down with the “bumper” Obama edition of “The Spectator”. Later on, having exhausted Wagner, I searched out Montiverdi’s “Orfeo” and continued the playlist of delight until the commencement of the Radio 4 “Today” programme. I hate it (especially “Thought for the day” and the sanctimonious bunch who usually proffer their few minutes of waffle), but I seem unable to avoid it: An old and very bad habit that I cannot shake.

In a previous post, I expressed concern that new wave “Socialism” is far too egocentric for my liking. I have great respect for people who hold strong and honourable political views, be they left or right, but “New Labour” as it’s styled in the UK, in my opinion, has not only been a disaster – having given a whole new meaning to political corruption – rather, it should be called “New Stalinism”, so ungodly has it proven itself to be. In Britain, we have now atheism through the back door, and to a large extent, we must thank New Labour; not only has it failed to provide a moral anchor, it has actively promoted a libertine doctrine which has eaten away at the nation’s moral and spiritual foundations.



I think “Dianagate” was the first sign of this dangerous moral flabbiness when right thinking was jettisoned in favour of a perilous emotionalism. If you think back to the Princess of Wales’ funeral service, Dean Wesley Carr, managed to concoct, not a service commending the soul of a troubled sinner to a merciful Lord; but rather, it was the deification of a much-loved personality, whose cultic status challenged the Lord God, Himself, and in His own place of worship. We know what happened to Israel when idols were introduced into the Temple. Who will be the reforming Josiah of our age? For non-Catholics, that’s a troubling question; but I thank God that Christ’s Church is built upon Peter, the Vicar of the One who “can neither deceive, nor be deceived”.

Recently, a number of public figures have commented how difficult it is being “open” about one’s Christianity in C21 Britain; among them, the Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, also housewife’s favourite, Jeremy Vine, an Anglican, who hosts various radio and television programmes. After twelve years of this present government, Her Majesty’s Opposition seem to regard imitation as the only means by which New Labour can be removed from office. Having disowned its own Christian heritage in this battle, will the “New Conservatives” be any the more godly than New Labour? “If you love Me, keep my commandments.” As a voter, I am now unable to find any mainstream party that comes remotely close to keeping the Creator’s commandments. In Iain Rankin’s very amusing novel, “The Crow Road”, Uncle Hamish decided to found his own religion, as the existing line-up of churches, failed to satisfy his “beliefs”. Perhaps I should found my own political party to satisfy my political indignation! Knowing me, it would be all “bling” and no substance; or, as the late, great Frankie Howard might have put it, “All fur coat and no knickers”. If only New Labour were that innocuous!

Having survived the dubious moral leadership of the Clinton administration, I wonder whether the United States really knows what to expect in Mr Obama. I’ve no doubt that he is a very well intentioned man; but, as is often the case, “the path to hell is lined with good intentions” if they don’t originate from God. Like Mr Blair before him, and before our very eyes, Mr Obama is replacing God’s law with a manmade alternative, which can lead, ultimately, only one way. He may insist on swearing his oath on Lincoln’s bible, but he clearly does not wish to open it and read. Our Coronation Service describes the Scriptures as the “lively oracles of God”. In Mr Obama’s so-called freedom of choice legislation, America will have the godless and deadly mark of death. Roe versus Wade, will pale by comparison.

Some of "Blair's Babes"

Mr Obama has wasted little time in publicizing his anti-life agenda, expressed, par excellence, in the diabolical and ironically named “Freedom of Choice Act” (FOCA). This is certainly domestic gunboat diplomacy, but I’m sure, as James Delingpole, writing in The Spectator observes, a great deal will also be achieved by stealth: “I have seen your future, America, and it doesn’t work”. He is of course referring to the Blair/Brown years, here in the UK. Mr Delingpole opens his essay, thus: “… the President… is horribly reminiscent of Tony Blair in 1997. He may be a fantastic guy, and look great, but he will bring a ragbag of scuzzballs, communists and eco-loons to power with him”. If we think back to the beginning of the Blair government, how many would have realized the hidden danger posed by the militant feminists who were ignominiously referred to by the press as “Blair’s Babes” at the time? Behind their fashion makeovers, lay a troublesome agenda. Yes, America; be aware. We in the UK now live in one of the most culture of death-ridden countries in Europe, and possibly the world – and we let it happen!

How could we have been so stupid? I found the answer in this morning’s readings. The first reading in the Pauline office was a “meat and potatoes” passage from Deuteronomy: Choose God alone! We followed the false gods of our age and listened to their beguiling message of prosperity for all; freedom of choice for all… “Now, Israel, what does the Lord your God ask of you? Only this: to fear the Lord your God, to follow all His ways, to Love Him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul, to keep the commandments and laws of the Lord that for your good I lay down for you today.”

Keep the COMMANDMENTS and LAWS of the Lord for YOUR good. Dear pro-choice Christians, that means, “Thou shalt not kill”. The reading continues, showing how disobedience will bring only a self-inflicted judgment: “See, I set before you today a blessing and a curse: a blessing if you obey the commandments of the Lord our God that I enjoin on you today; a curse, if you disobey the commandments of the Lord your God and leave the way I have marked out for you today by going after other gods…” This is how one serves the people and not through bogus liberal agendas awash with messianic spin, as the second reading on spiritual perfection hammered home. Interestingly, the readings from II Corinthians, in the 1962 breviary, complimented this theme by reminding us in whom and of what we are to boast. There is no mistaking our duty. We MUST not only obey the Lord, but proclaim His message without fear, and by whatever means we feel called.

I would suggest a good starting point is prayer, most especially regular attendance at Holy Mass and frequent confession. Not only are we fortified by the effects of grace… to do far more than we might ever imagine… but also, we must pray for the salvation of all who promote the Culture of Death, often oblivious to the consequences and perils of their actions. We can be sure that the “souls of the just are in the hands of God”, but of those who have actively (and passively) caused the holocaust of abortion, we can but hope and pray for their conversion.



In God, we trust! We must!

A Brave New World?

It seems a lifetime ago that I read (or rather, tried to read), Huxley’s book, “Brave New World”. Satirical in style, it nonetheless alerted a young mind to the dangers of removing God from the equation of Life. In today’s new-left-wing and humanist elite, I see many parallels with the “utopians” of HG Well’s “Men like Gods”, which Huxley sought to parody in his book... This frightens me!

Yesterday’s almost universal celebrations heralding the inauguration of Mr Obama as the new President of the United States almost passed me by. Saddened by his anti-life views, I ordered my day in such a way as to avoid both media coverage and collegial commentary. I am pleased that his ethnicity was not a contributing factor in excluding him from this august office; however, I do wonder what part his race played in winning him the presidency. Maybe I’m just being cynical. Nevertheless, it is all academic now and we must follow the Holy Father’s lead who, in a telegram to the new president, assured him of his prayers, “that Almighty God will grant [him]… unfailing wisdom and strength in the exercise of [his]… high responsibilities.”

The Pope continued:

"Under your leadership, may the American people continue to find in their impressive religious and political heritage the spiritual values and ethical principles needed to co-operate in the building of a truly just and free society, marked by respect for the dignity, equality and rights of each of its members, especially the poor, the outcast and those who have no voice.

"At a time when so many of our brothers and sisters throughout the world yearn for liberation from the scourge of poverty, hunger and violence, I pray that you will be confirmed in your resolve to promote understanding, co-operation and peace among the nations, so that all may share in the banquet of life which God wills to set for the whole human family.”

Ending with a blessing for the First Family, and indeed, all Americans, his words, though understated, rang true with the need to protect “those who have no voice… so that all may share in the banquet of life.” We don’t know how President Obama will receive the Holy Father’s words. Certainly, whatever apprehensions he may currently harbour about Pope Benedict; when finally he meets the pontiff, he will, I’m sure, recognise one of the greatest intellectuals of our generation, motivated by a sincere love of God, rather than the need for approval from a whimsical electorate.

Following a busy day, sans TV, I enjoyed a very pleasant dinner with friends in a local restaurant, and it was only upon my return home that I “forced” myself to watch the news. As expected, the BBC had become the Barack Broadcasting Corporation for the day with Matt Frei, “Auntie’s” US correspondent, hardly able to contain his joy as he slobbered effusive commentary all over the BBC’s Washington DC studio. For a while, I thought he might pass out from the excitement. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen him this excited since President Bush tried exiting through a locked door in China. (For some reason, the liberal media regarded this as being hilarious, whereas I thought the reaction showed how infantile the president’s detractors could be.)

For many years, the “Beeb” has shown a nouveau left-wing bias (it’s as hostile to good old fashioned socialism as it is to the right), most especially in its “serious” news programmes, such as Radio 4’s flagship “Today” programme, which mirrors the editorial policies of “The Guardian” to a tee. Not being a political animal, I’ve not been as outraged as some by this. What does trouble me is the anti-life and anti-family bias, which nearly always seems to be synthesized into that very same left-wing bias, so much so, it is often impossible to delineate the BBC’s underpinning motivation. If pushed, I’d say that the BBC now seeks to undermine all that is good and wholesome in society, but that’s my personal opinion. Certainly, impartiality went many years ago. Thank God there are a few good men and women who are willing to go on air to defend the Church (and simple basic morality); however, where a programme is recorded, their strong defence is often obfuscated by a malicious editor and the whole think can appear to backfire on the commentator.

I met death along the way, it had a mask like... that of a mother. The real face of Pro-Choice is deadly, tasteless and conceals evil.

Perhaps our late Holy Father, John Paul II, the “media pope” gave too much away to the enemy when he said in Crossing the Threshold of Hope, “In the very search for faith an implicit faith is already present, and therefore the necessary condition for salvation is already satisfied.” The darker forces within the media must now realize that it is not enough to remove the Church from its schedules, but rather, they must assault her in the hope that people will lose their way completely. The good news is that in the past, many have tried and failed. If anything, where the Church has been attacked, it has subsequently been refined and even though it may loose numbers, those who remain are full of hope, knowing that “No human sin can erase the mercy of God, or prevent Him from unleashing all His triumphant power, if we only call upon Him.” (Veritatis Splendor)

Following Pope Benedict’s lead, we must pray for President Obama. Let it be that he will heed these words of John Paul II who, speaking in 1979, addressed the American nation on the very same Capitol steps from where President Obama was inaugurated:

"I do not hesitate to proclaim before you and before the world that all human life- from the moment of conception and through all subsequent stages- is sacred, because human life is created in the image and likeness of God. Nothing surpasses the greatness or dignity of a human person. Human life is not just an idea or an abstraction; human life is the concrete reality of a being that is capable of love, and of service to humanity… Human life is precious because it is the gift of a God whose love is infinite; and when God gives life, it is forever."

May God bless and direct the counsels of President Obama.

Pope calls for a culture of the Family

At 8 pm yesterday, Mexican time, a recorded video message from the Holy Father was transmitted to participants in the VIth World Meeting of Families. The event, a moment of celebration and witness, which took place from 14 to 18 January and was attended by Christian families from all over the world, was held at the basilica of our Lady of Guadalupe, Mexico, on the theme: "The family, teacher of human and Christian values".

As VIS reports, that theme, said the Pope in his message, reminds us how "the domestic environment is a school of humanity and Christian life for all its members, with beneficial consequences for people, the Church and society. In fact, the home is called to practice and cultivate reciprocal love and truth, respect and justice, loyalty and collaboration, service and readiness to help others, especially the weakest. The Christian home ... must be impregnated with the presence of God, placing the events of every day in His hands and asking His help to accomplish its vital mission".

"To this end it is vitally important to pray in the family at the most appropriate and significant moments", said the Holy Father. "The Master is definitely present in the family that listens to and meditates upon the Word of God, that learns what is most important in life from Him and puts His teachings into practice. In this way individual and family life is gradually transformed and improved, dialogue is enriched, the faith is transmitted to children, the pleasure of being together increases and the home becomes more unified and consolidated, like a house built upon rock".

Benedict XVI emphasised how, "with the strength that comes from prayer, the family becomes a community of disciples and missionaries of Christ. ... Through the experience of filial obedience to God, faithfulness and generousity in welcoming children, care for the weakest and readiness to forgive, the family becomes a living Gospel which everyone may read". Furthermore, families must "bring their witness of life and their explicit profession of faith to their surroundings, such as schools and associations, and must make a commitment to the catechetical formation of their children and to the pastoral activities of their parish community, especially activities associated with preparation for marriage or specifically directed at family life".

"Because of its essential social function the family has the right for its specific identity to be recognised and not confused with other forms of coexistence. It must also be ensured adequate cultural, juridical, economic, social and health protection. In particular it must be afforded a support which, bearing in mind the number of children and the economic resources available, is sufficient to enable freedom of education and the choice of school".

Finally the Holy Father underlined the need "to develop a family culture and family policies that are driven by families themselves". In this context he encouraged his audience "to join associations that promote the identity and rights of the family in keeping with an anthropological vision that is coherent with the Gospel. Furthermore", he concluded, "I invite those associations to collaborate with one another in order for their activity to be more effective".

Some jolly good stuff…

… in this month’s update catalogue from Family Publications.

“Priests of Jesus Christ” is the new book from Pope Benedict which “combines insight with clarity as he elucidates different aspects of the priestly vocation and the theology of the priesthood, and shows how the life and ministry of the priest are centred on Christ.” This book will be of interest, not only to clergy and seminarians, but also the laity as it will help them understand the mission of their priests and his role within the Church. Why not treat your hard-working parish priest to a copy?

Other goodies are the four volumes of “Letter and Spirit”, where Scott Hahn is joined by other biblical scholars in founding new Catholic biblical theology journal with the aim of bringing about a revival of authentic biblical scholarship. “Frederick William Faber”, a biography by Melissa Wilkinson, looks to be an interesting revue of this complex personality; from Anglican convert to founder of the London Oratory, the book also looks at his literary output, including his prolific hymnody. I think it was Fr Ruttler of Christ our Savior, NYC, who remarked that Faber’s hymns are either exceptionally great or exceptionally dire.

You’ll find Family Publication’s website here. Also, don’t be a stranger to the Catholic Truth Society’s website which is updated regularly. Use them, or lose them!

A journey to the mainland...

“How to spend a trillion dollars”, that’s how much money this week’s Time magazine reports Barack Obama says he needs to kick-start the US economy. From my last post, you will realize that I cannot even work how many noughts in one thousand, so with such a depressing piece of news before me, I closed my eyes as I sat aboard the Wightlink ferry to Portsmouth. I was heading for the mainland, specifically to take my aunt to hospital for her meeting with the oncologist – thank you for the continuing prayers – but also an opportunity to enjoy the “normality” of city life: police sirens, car fumes, people hurrying by; you’d be surprised the things one misses after a few years on an island of pastoral simplicity.

My aunt’s news was not as one might have hoped, but things could have been worse; she is to have an operation within three to five weeks. She suggested that we have dinner in a local restaurant (Portsmouth is replete with excellent and reasonably priced restaurants); however, I suggested eating at her flat, if only to experience the normality of cooking something in a domestic kitchen. A friend had accompanied us from the island and so leaving my aunt in the flat “to potter”, the friend and I headed in the general direction of the Southsea branch of Waitrose, yes, a post about another supermarket! However, Waitrose is not just any old supermarket; it is the supermarket of supermarkets: Hail, bright Waitrose, you who rise majestically from amidst the encircling morass of Asda (apologies to OTSOTA).

A not untypical Waitrose shopper

Far from being the cheapest, it markets itself as being “good food, honestly priced”, and the quality of Waitrose’s food is very high. The other great thing about Waitrose in Southsea is its clientele. Generally “new money”, they love to smooch around the store dressed as Vivian Westwood's fashion victims, flaunting their affluence and slamming shopping trolleys into the ankles of proletariat shoppers, like me. One lady, who probably rejoiced in a name like Tamara Gwendolyn Smythe-Ffrench, amused me. She sported a woollen deerstalker hat – au femme – a faux fox fur coat, hot pants, and what appeared to be a cross between Turkish slippers and glittering elf’s boots. You see why I felt obliged to drag the House of Westwood into this post!

Following another affable conversation with a checkout lady – this time about the staying power of polythene shopping bags and the disaster that would ensue should one of my bags burst in Kent Road because I’d tried to squeeze my aunt’s diet lemonade into an already overflowing bag – we headed back to the flat. I put an opera DVD on the TV for the two ladies while I busied myself in the kitchen “cooking” the low fat ready meals where I became totally befuddled by the various instructions: remove cardboard sleeve… pierce this film lid, but remove that one… etc. Being Waitrose ready meals, you’d never know that the food hadn’t been prepared from scratch using the finest of ingredients!

The three of us felt decidedly gloomy as we embarked the ferry for the forty-minute cruise across the Solent. Even the thought of grande caffe latte couldn’t raise our spirits; at the back of my mind was how my aunt would be before and after her operation and what arrangements would need to be made.

Another sleepless night followed – the previous night, I’d watched Mrs Joanna Bogle being interviewed on EWTN. She was very good and had clearly wooed her American audience. According to her blog, she’d been taken to a local “Mall” where her companions treated her to a slice of American leisure: Auntie Joanna “goes large”… perhaps not. The English Church is fortunate to have such an erudite, interesting, and feisty member; however, I think we can loan her to the Americans for a while! Check out http://www.ewtn.com/ for details of her various series. She is soon to co-host another interesting series of historical programmes with her lawyer husband, Jamie. These are fascinating and always worth watching.

With The Sixteen’s excellent recording of Teixeira’s Te Deum in the background and still unable to fall into the arms of Morpheus, I turned to my family tree again, this time dwelling upon the sourcing of a picture to accompany great, great grandfather Benjamin. I have only a large portrait, which has proven impossible to photograph. It’s rather badly damaged in one corner and probably requires professional cleaning and reframing, as this too is badly damaged. Although I have quite a few anonymous and ancient photographs, none of them resembles the man in the portrait, whom I know with certainty to be my grandmother’s grandfather.

S Mary de Crypt - church and grammar school (early C19 engraving)

Great, great grandfather Benjamin appears to have been quite a man-about-town – a self-made man, by all accounts. He also appears to have been a leading Freemason, there being a large memorial to him in one of Gloucester’s medieval churches, S Mary de Crypt, placed there by the local lodge. It appears that he was a hierarch of their little club and so I assume he rejoiced in some title drawn from the building trade. I assume junior Freemasons might be known as “bricklayers”, which would make Benjamin a “roofer”? The head honcho is probably styled after the man who places the chimney pot (or in our present age, the satellite dish man (/woman)?

You may remember in a previous post, I mentioned a Victorian relative who single-handedly extinguished a fire in the space above the vault of Gloucester Cathedral’s magnificent perpendicular Lady Chapel. He and Benjamin are one and the same and for this fact alone, I feel a distinct debt of gratitude as Gloucester’s Lady Chapel was a frequent sanctuary in my childhood and instrumental in pointing me towards the Catholic Church (I wanted to know more about a faith that could produce such outward expressions of devotion). I wish he’d been around when the protestant iconoclasts smashed the chapel’s once magnificent altar and reredos in the C16! He’d have shown the miserable tykes a thing or two!

Catholics are forbidden to be Freemasons, although I know a Catholic gentleman who is a very kind and good man, in spite of his Freemasonry. It strikes me that the British incarnation of Freemasonry is seemingly prosaic, but in many of its continental forms, it has a dark history. Perhaps the most well known of secretive orders may be found in the legends that surround the Knights Templar and the Rosicrucians. The myths are legion, but it is popularly held that following King Philip the Fair’s assault on this military order of warrior-monks, the survivors withdrew from society and may have found some form of sanctuary in the British Isles, possibly Scotland. Another popularly held view is that there may be some veracity to the accusations made against the Templars that they worshipped Lucifer and committed acts of desecration against Christian images.

Secret societies were instrumental in the fall of the Papal States and the unification of Italy. The rather glam Italian policemen, known as Carabinieri started life as a secretive bunch, united in their desire to unite Italy, while enjoying a bit of charcoal burning, on the side. A later Italian incarnation, from our own time, is the formidable "P2" lodge which was allegedly involved in the collapse of Banco Ambrosiano and the murder of Roberto Calvi.

In C18 Bavaria, the Illuminati expressed very disturbing ideas, which involved the founding of a new world order, drawing from the mythic beliefs of the Templars, such as Luciferianism and a hatred of the Catholic Church. Some scholars and conspiracy theorists have suggested that it was this group, specifically, who influenced/infiltrated the Jacobins of the French Revolution and the Founding Fathers of the United States, both movements noted for their anti-Catholicism (although I think one of the signatories of the Declaration of Independence was indeed a Catholic).

Recently, I've followed with great fascination eschatologically-minded American evangelicals and how they have become beguiled with the notion that America, rather than being “One Nation under God”, is in fact a construct of diabolical proportions, “proven” by assumed Masonic imagery found on the one dollar bill, among other things. It is well documented that a number of leading American figures have been Masons, including some notable presidents. Furthermore, some evangelicals have suggested that Pierre L'Enfante’s original city plan of Washington DC is in fact some great Masonic homage to its diabolical belief-system; it’s street plan delineating an inverted pentagram based on major buildings and roads, even though there is no evidence to suggest that L’Enfante was ever a Mason. These are very outlandish arguments and are primarilly built upon downtown DC’s intriguing numerology (thirteen blocks between the Capitol and the Masonic Temple on Sixteenth Street, between R and S Streets, etc) and geometry (pentagram). The writings of a self-confessed Luciferian, Albert Pike, who was, and still is, hailed as America’s leading Mason don't help. His body is enshrined within the walls of DC’s impressive “House of the Temple”.

The impressive "House of the Temple" in Washington DC, styled after the mausoleum at Halicarnassus, one of the “Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.”

Whatever some Freemasons may, or may not have been up to through the centuries, I can’t quite see great, great grandfather Benjamin engaging in such vulgar behaviour… although, who knows what happens behind those solid stone walls?

Returning to Gloucester, In addition to being the parish of C18 philanthropist and founder of the Sunday School Movement, Robert Raikes, S Mary de Crypt, the Church in which the Masonic memorial was placed, has an ancient grammar school attached which counts among its alumni broadcaster, Robin Day and the Methodist divine, George Whitfield. Noted for being rotters on the rugby pitch (‘ehem, too close to the Welsh border, you see!), the boys from Crypt have inflicted a great many disappointments on their opponents in the past - vivat schola Cryptiensis.

You can tell a great deal about a school by its sportsmen, or lack, thereof. For example and based on nearby schools of my youth, (the horribly low church) Dean Close and Marlborough, both foundations which favoured the sons of the Anglican clergy, were noted for producing somewhat effete students. Meanwhile, the “toffs” of Cheltenham Gentlemen’s College, popular with the military classes, spent too much time squawking at one another in accents that resembled the two English airmen from the popular 1980s BBC sitcom, “’Allo, ‘Allo”! I think Cheltenham Ladies’ College might have mustered a more formidable line up, What! What! (I confess to having had a minor dislike for “Cheltenham Gents” (he he, sounds like a loo!) as one of their houses was named after the Battle of the Boyne, although they were quite sound when it came to cricket. Am I capricious?)

Older readers may remember Lindsey Anderson's film, "If...", which was filmed at Cheltenham College in 1968. It was a tad bizarre in its storyline and featured a very young Malcolm McDowell and a very old Arthur Lowe.

There is a remote chance that some old boys may read this and be thoroughly scandalized. Oh dear! These are general observations and so I hope they will feel suitably disabused that my comments are not personal.

"Cheltenham Gents"

Having insulted a whole generation of schoolboys, dragged down the good name of several revered schools and repeated rumours about the Masonic foundations of the United States I’d best say, “Toodle pip”!

Gentlemen who shop

We bloggers are sometimes criticised for not blogging regularly and I’m aware that I’ve not posted anything for a while. The truth is life is rather a bore at the moment. With very little to write about, I’ve decided to take the advice of a friend. He suggested I might post about some of the various goings on in my life. Mischievously, he did hint at the possibility of some funny posts concerning life in the hotel, but as the line between Basil Fawlty and myself is thin enough, such an endeavour might prove to be a little too cathartic on my part (and possibly drop me in hot water should the principals involved ever get wind).

During the hectic Christmas period, I dreamed of January and the “peace and quiet” that it would herald. As is often the case, things rarely turn out as hoped. I’d forgotten that the accounts would be due by the end of January (that’s the “bore” part). Those who know me well are aware that I HATE numbers. I’m proud to be innumerate! Playing “sums” over this past fortnight has not been fun and so the thought of breaking free of the hotel today, to do a little shopping, was a chance not to be missed.

Carl, the chef, passed me a shopping list of various items required for next Sunday’s lunch. Being quiet, due to the season (I hope), I decided that I’d rather purchase the staple items from our new and sparkling branch of “Tesco”; the cash-and-carry is a pretty drab place to linger for too long, especially as the ghastly “Radio Booker” is piped throughout the warehouse.

Tesco, Ryde. It was great! Never, did I think I’d ever say that about a supermarket, but this new branch of that old high street brand is huge, selling just about everything from mushrooms to plasma TVs. If you’re beginning to suspect that I’m a little barmy for waxing lyrical about a large supermarket, you must remember that on the island, we have only one Tesco and one Sainsbury’s and so have become accustomed to “titchy” Somerfield and Co-op stores for our normal supermarket “experience”.

The first thing to greet me upon passing the security barriers (I was unaware that the island had crime) was a very large display of flowers and plants, nearly all the bouquets bearing brightly-coloured stickers promising faithfully to last fourteen days. There was a very pleasant aroma, which in these days of refrigerated flowers, one does not expect. Quelle est cette odeur agréable? I was unable to find the source of the fragrance. I bought a pot of hyacinths for my aunt. She is to see her specialist tomorrow as it appears her breast cancer has returned after six years. Please remember her in your prayers. (I also bought her a radio-controlled clock, which sets itself. She is useless when it comes to anything “digital”. However, being the Isle of Wight, the magical clock-setting signal is not powerful enough to work and I had to set it all manually. We don’t get a digital TV/radio signal, either!)

Following my tiptoe through the spray carnations and forced roses, and having taken a voice mail from a dear friend (who seemed a bit upset that I’d not telephoned her recently), I decided rather than head straight for the aisles containing my “necessities”, I would loop from one aisle of goodies to another. One of my first stops was the book aisle where the latest hardbacks were stacked high, each book offering a substantial discount. Aghast to see “The God Delusion” listed as a “best seller”, I shuffled past this obscenity to the top ten section where Joanna Trollope’s latest novel was the number one offering. I’ve not had cause to read anything by Ms Trollope and so dare not offer comments here; however, I’m a huge fan of Anthony Trollope (of “Barchester Towers” fame) and an even bigger fan of his mother, Fanny. She was a resourceful woman who married a man incapable of handling his finances (that sounds familiar, supra!!). Eventually finding herself with a family to raise, but no income, she set about writing – this at a time when ladies of quality did not engage in such activities. She was successful in her endeavours and her books offer a wonderful insight into the late C18, as seen through the eyes of an independently-minded woman.

A little further along (past ladies’ romance – blush), I marvelled at how many “celebrities” have produced autobiographies (sic). It seems that a few weeks in the “Big Brother” house and you are obliged to tell the world of your story – from rags, to… well, rags. Although still somewhat young for an autobiography, I did notice that the very talented John Barrowman has a book out, which, with his Broadway/West End pedigree, is probably worth reading. Alan Carr was also grinning at me from one of the shelves, but I resisted his toothy smile and made my way through kitchen utensils to “boys’ toys”, aka, computers, home entertainment and mobile telephony. The remainder of my time in the supermarket was far more disciplined (apart from purchasing the new caramel and nut Honey Nut Corn Flake Clusters, which I’d seen advertised on TV – they’re delicious, by the way). I completed my shopping and headed in the direction of the checkouts (via the biscuit aisle where the Jaffa Cakes called out to me).

Having put the world to rights with the pleasant lady at the checkout – we started off discussing the good old days, when supermarkets always had a stash of old cardboard boxes near the exit for customers’ use and how this “service” had been withdrawn for health and safety reasons; we ended with a mutual moan about our incumbent prime minister – I made my way, accompanied by my shopping, to the adjacent photo booth. My passport and driving licence are both due for renewal and, according to the letter that arrived this morning, if I don’t supply an up to date photograph, I will be fined £1,000 by the Department of Transport. (The thing I hate about these horrid official photographs is that I can’t airbrush out the blemishes – such as the double chin which must be ready to drop after twelve months of sloth and gluttony!) The photo booth was an experience in itself. Having worked out how to deselect the “fun” options – my face, superimposed on a bunny rabbit, or Madonna sat on my knee – I inserted the correct change and pressed the green button. It spoke! The machine spoke to me: “Please ensure that you are sitting comfortably and position your face in the orange circle”. I was a little too tall and attempted to lower the seat, but with no success. Having decided that the seat was stuck, I slouched down until my face fitted within the circle and my eyes were in line with the image on screen. It was only after the picture was taken, that I realized the camera was looking up my nose (due to the necessary slouching). Happily, the end result did not look too bad and as I do not intend flashing my new mug shot around to all and sundry, decided not to bother with a replay.

Tottering out of Tesco with me were two middle-aged women having a very loud conversation about Victoria Beckham (aka, Posh Spice). You may remember the Spice Girls fronted last year's Christmas advertising campaign for Tesco. These good ladies were also well-versed in the latest scoops of “Heat” magazine, and no doubt “Hello” and “OK”, to boot. Anyway…, apparently, Giorgio Armani has chosen Mrs Beckham to front the marketing of his new line of slinky lingerie (grossly overpriced knickers and bras, to the rest of us). According to my two new lady friends, Il Sig Armani considers her to be a “Stylish and intriguing woman”. Being Italian, he probably hasn’t heard her speak; even if he understood English, I doubt he’d comprehend her estuary English patois utterances. It’s not called the “Beckham Effect” for nothing! Perhaps, that’s why he considers her to be intriguing?

Deprived of a car wash on the way home (it was broken), I headed back to the hotel to engage in more accounts. I tired of the spreadsheets after a couple of hours and decided to have a look at my other little distraction. Since December, by way of a diversion, I’ve been using an internet website to research my family tree. I must confess to not being that interested. Having found out that a cousin on my father’s side has done all the work there and Stratford Borough Council have done the same on my late mother’s side (up to my late grandmother), I haven’t really too much to do except upload photographs to provide a veritable rogues’ gallery of ancestors. For many years now, it’s occurred to me that Bertie Wooster and I must have shared quite a number of great aunts ("My Aunt Agatha is sitting out there just waiting to pounce. She thinks acting is the next thing to devil worship."). On my mother’s side of the family (with whom I have had most contact), I grew up with some wonderfully eccentric characters, who could have easily fallen straight from a PG Wodehouse book.

Great aunt Juliet was the black sheep of the family. In the 1920s, after graduating in Classics from Oxford, she came out to her parents as… a… socialist! I understand there was much unrest at the time and her educational yearnings were blamed. Her election as a labour councillor was the cherry on a very unpalatable Marxist-Leninist fairy cake. She died when I was eight and from what I remember, I can’t quite see her as being a Stalinist, especially as her best friend was a fellow alderman and long-term Conservative MP (whose name I’d better not mention). As the MP was also gay and therefore unmarried, great aunt Juliet often acted as his official consort and they were soon known as “Romeo and Juliet” about town. What a hoot!

Another delightfully eccentric relative was great aunt Roma. A very kindly woman, she did, however, not suffer fools gladly and was a stickler for what we might now call, old fashioned good manners. I can still see her chasing a “good-for-nothing” type along the Promenade in Cheltenham. Having barged passed great aunt Roma, toppling her hat and almost knocking her to the ground, he failed to apologize – a capital crime in her book. The affair ended with great aunt Roma swatting him with (to borrow a description) her capacious handbag. She was also one of the last people to see Lucy Partington alive. One of the West’s victims, Miss Partington lived in the same village as aunt Roma and they both drove to Christmas midnight Mass together in 1973 (I think), only Miss Partington disappeared shortly afterwards, her body being discovered in 1994, when the Wests were suspected of being serial murderers.

I’d better end this extraordinary “about my day” post here. Please remember my aunt in your prayers for tomorrow and if any of you are on FaceBook, please consider joining my Miss Felicity Lemon Fan Club. Miss Lemon Fan Club! You see, I’m as eccentric as some of my great aunts!