The boy and I trudged off to the North again last weekend, destination Newcastle RC Cathedral, for the ordination of a former housemate. Given that this housemate had a long and arduous journey even to be accepted as a candidate for priesthood, before we consider the last six years spent in college (again), it was great to see this landmark moment reached. And he looked so happy. The boy, in consequence, kept grinning inanely all weekend, because it had been so good to see a happy ending/beginning. We finished the weekend off with a stop off at Mount Grace Priory, literally (and death-defyingly) just off the A1. This had been recommended to us as a good stop when we visited Durham at Easter and had been watching 'Into Great Silence'. At Mount Grace you get a better sense of the largely individual lives that the Carthusian monks lived. I'd pass on the recommendation, especially if you don't have long - we spent an hour there and weren't rushed - but you do take your life in your hands getting back onto the A1. Slip-roads guys, slip-roads.
Just trying to drum up some enthusiasm for my next coxing session, having coxed 3 out of the last 4 days, and having another 3 sessions this week after tonight. The crew will have to settle for me getting there; I'm forced to settle for their rowing, and that's worse.