jump to navigation

I am tired… I am weary… but I am also holy today. 23, March 2008

Posted by babychaos in General Wittering, Pregnancy Issues, Small Scale Disasters.
Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I could sleep for a thousand years…

Yep I’m fucking knackered today. Several missions on the go…

Mission one, should I decide to accept it… bake some edible biscuits. This is proving far harder than it has any right to be. My mother’s biscuits are so fab that I decided I would get the recipe. After all, most mums and babies seem to meet for coffee or tea so I thought that one, I could bake some biscuits which were made with low GI sugar and two, home baked must be more healthy than bought.

I have made rosemary and almond biscuits and two batches of melting moments. None of them bear the remotest resemblance to the things I eat at my mother’s house. To quote Mr BC.

“They’re ok but I wouldn’t eat them for pleasure.”

Spot on.

The only way I’m going to succeed here is to watch my mother making them, so I can see what the dough should look and taste like before I stick them in the oven.

Mission two, make a ratatouille – ok I’m on very firm ground with that one, it’s coming on fine.

Mission three, clean the house. Done. Mwa ha ha haargh… oh sorry did the smug waves knock you out.

Mission four. My father in law has written a book, more a repository for all his memories and stories than anything because he has forgotten so many of the stories his parents told him and realises a lot of this important social and family history will be lost if he doesn’t. Now THIS I am looking forward to. He writes well and the stories I’ve heard are fascinating, amusing or both.

Mission five. Keep upping the number of reps on the physio exercises. The SPD is getting very painful now and you know how when you break a bone the pain makes you really, really tired… well I guess I’m suffering from a dash of that, on top of the fact that pregnancy makes you tired anyway it leaves me wiped most of the time. Bear in mind this is our first weekend home with nobody else here, just hanging out, in seven and the last until the three weekends before Muffin is due.

Idiots? Yes, we are but people keep being 40 and having parties, there’s a wedding, there’s somebody who lives abroad visiting with his wife – we haven’t seen him in 3 years and we haven’t even met her… it’s stuff we want to do but it is tiring the way a whole load of once-every-10-years-if-that style events have cropped up at once, now.

Oh well…

It being Easter Day, today, I went up the hill to the Cathedral to do the God thing. It starts at 10.30 but it was snowing and the snow was up to my ankles.

So knackered and sleepy I spent too long in bed and nearly missed it, at 10.10 I realised what the time was and managed to get dressed, washed, clean my teeth and throw enough cereal down to keep my Muffin-induced ravening maw in check for an hour or two.

Weebled my way up the hill – can’t WAIT until the Muffin inside is outside and I can start to recover from the SPD (I expect I’ll be banging on about rock hard breasts and sore nipples endlessly by then, I’m a born whinger so there’s bound to be something).

Just squeaked it! Got there in time to be wished happy Easter and handed an order of service by a sidesman as the all-stand-the-choir-are-coming-in bell rang.

Found a good seat though, the advantage of being on my own, of course. There are odd seats much closer to the front than there are groups because British people in groups sitting in a row of seats always leave a one or two seat buffer between themselves and the next party.  As I headed over the man on the end of my row moved three seats in!  Result!  Should I need to wee I could waddle off to the loo without disrupting anyone else’s holy thoughts – these services take a while and I only have a short range.

They did Dvorak’s Mass in D. Very nice. Also did the Halleluja Chorus (from Handel’s Messiah) while everyone was taking communion. Splendid, a bit of baroque to improve Muffin’s brain.

Had to nip out for a wee but only once. It turned out the lady behind me – also nipping out to put lunch on – was from my exercise class so we had a nice chat. Asked the sidesman by the door if there was a loo in the cathedral but it was behind the orchestra so fearing entanglements with double basses and other expensive and highly breakable instruments – not to mention things which would make a lot of noise when knocked over. I nipped over the road to the publics…

“I bet that was a relief!” Said the sidesman cheerfully as I came back in.

“It certainly was!” I told him.

The Muffin is lying very low this morning which made leaning forward to pseudo kneel difficult, it made him kick and wriggle and I didn’t want to squish him so I just bowed my head. Actually sitting was hard work but of the three, sit, stand, kneel it was the easier option. I have a kind of period pains thing going on at the moment, mainly, I suspect because low means low. Muffin is RIGHT at the bottom where, frankly, there isn’t really room for him.

The recessional hymn was “Thine be the Glory” sung to a tune called Maccabeus – another Handel classic – which is especially great to sing with a full orchestra plus tympani going in the background. Enjoyed that. Hugely amused by one of the hmm… not sure what you call them, something posher than servers in a cathedral but essentially, that’s what they are.

He was the guy with the incense. Incense is used for high days and holidays in the Church of England. It’s like a small bar-be-queue. A guy fills a pot with charcoal and adds powder over the top which gives off a very pleasant scent as it burns, yep, God’s holy joss stick… with knobs on.

It’s meant to signify your prayers going up to heaven but I reckon it’s left over from days when the great unwashed really were and in order to stay upright and conscious the priests needed something to cover the all pervading stench of the congregation. These were times when the average joe really hummed and nobody wanted to know the words.

The whole shebang is securely fastened in a thing about the size of a teapot which hangs on three chains which are joined to a handle and the tout ensemble is called – technical term here – a “Thurible”. People, you know I couldn’t make a word like that up. It has holes in the top to let the draught in to keep the charcoal briquettes alight and to let out the fancy flavoured smoke. Obviously the more you swing it about, the more fiercely the charcoal burns and the more fancy flavouring you get.

The bloke in charge of it was enthusiastic enough today but when we launched into the last hymn he proceeded to do a series of full, fast loops in the instrumental break between verses. Alone I might have been but I couldn’t help laughing. He was giving it some serious welly, red in the face with the effort and clearly enjoying himself immensely. He was handling it with the deft assurance of the true professional but I couldn’t help noticing that one wrong move and any of his unfortunate colleagues processing alongside, in front or behind him could have ended up out cold. Wisely, they kept well clear.

Glad I went, it was a very relaxing service. Very enjoyable.



1. GeekLady - 23, March 2008

Us Catholics call them thurifers.

It’s actually a liturgical job I’ve done, and it is an insane amount of fun. Seriously. Standing up in front of the whole congregation is waaaaay easier when you’re the one carrying lit charcoal briquettes.

I have a funny story or three about thurifering, but unfortunately they all require some physical acting out.

2. babychaos - 23, March 2008

Intriguing… but isn’t that just thurible being said by somebody with a lisp? I gather it’s also called a censor… As for being the briquette handler, yeh, I can imagine it’s a scream, my brother used to do it. He never quite got the lasso over the head thing going like the guy today although that was probably a good thing at our church the thurible might not have been as durable as the cathedral’s – can you imagine if the business end flew off?

What about trying the stories with some diagrams…? 😉



3. GeekLady - 23, March 2008

Hmm, two of them are possible to describe/illustrate, but one just screams to be acted out over beer.

I am distinctly jealous of your music, though. Even when our choir picks something good, they show off too much with it.

4. magneto bold too - 24, March 2008

‘fancy flavoured smoke.’

Awesome. thanks for the description. Being the heathen that I am I spent the morning gorging on chocolate and swilling coffee.

5. babychaos - 24, March 2008

Geek Lady, yep I’m very lucky with the music round here. They only have the orchestra on high days and holidays but the standard of choral stuff is always excellent. I should go a lot more often than I do. We’ll move soon and then, as I sing hymns accompanied by an organist using one hand and have to endure a tape recorded version of the lords prayer sung to the tune of Amazing Grace by Sir Cliff and the many other monstrosities routinely found in village churches I will realise just how bloody lucky I’ve been.

Magneto, that’s how I wanted to spend the morning really, but one of the Mr’s friends was playing in the orchestra and as he doesn’t go to church muggins here had to do the supportive friend thing. I’m glad I went but at the same time… I’m feeling some little twinges of jealousy… 😉



6. Geldoff - 24, March 2008

You’re on excellent form, BC, a very amusing piece – I’m still chuckling quietly now and then like an old motor that won’t quite turn off.

7. babychaos - 25, March 2008

Geldoff! Delighted to hear from you – and that I managed to make you chuckle I always aim to please!



8. Joe Drinker - 2, April 2008

Sounds like the Easter service was enjoyable. Next year, you’ll have the little one all dressed up in an overly-expensive outfit that baby could care less about, but the other parishioners will eat up. Start shopping now.

By the way, my wife was over there for Easter, she spent it at St. Paul’s Cathedral. She and her friends had nothing but nice things to say about your countrymen, and she isn’t easily impressed.

Thanks for taking good care of her.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: