Weekends of grace

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.

Bank holiday fun: duty, dancing and a swan named Asbo

The boy elected to work Good Friday and Bank Holiday Monday this year, leaving me to twiddle my thumbs somewhat on those days. This led to the production of a 'traditional' Easter cheesecake on Good Friday. (Really it's a birthday cake but we won't be chez nous for the boy's birthday.)

Saturday involved a limited amount of rowing. Limited because the boat house door has been broken for some time now meaning certain boats can't be got out safely (grrrr). This did give me another opportunity to watch 'Mr Asbo' in action. The so-called 'Mr Asbo' is a male swan who has been terrorising rowers on the Cam for some weeks now. He's quite a spectacle, when viewed from a safe distance. It's cruel, but the stroke of my four has been known to do the theme tune to "Jaws" when moving through his self-proclaimed zone of the river just to freak the cox out that little bit more. The real exercise of the weekend was a walk. Doesn't sound hard, but when you cycle everywhere, walking suddenly becomes a bit of an issue. More so when you've booked to go to the Lake District for a week and your wife expects to be taken hiking. So the boy went for a bit of a drag on Saturday afternoon, and is booked for another one in a fortnight's time. (Hopefully we will both have recovered by then).

Easter celebrations at church were, in my view, cool; at least for the 'Presentation of the Gifts' section when Indian members of the congregation performed a West Syriac rite, involving lights and dancing. I thought it was just a touch Bollywood, but of course I got in trouble for saying so. The slight, ever so slight, Bollywood theme continued in the afternoon when I took the boy to see Slumdog Millionaire. My boss had told me it was sad because of the poverty and that was the overall message I took from the film, whatever the critics have said. The boy, who had been planned to endure the film, admitted to having enjoyed it.

Easter Monday saw my first sculling outing of 2009. I managed not to send my partner for a swim and, of course, stayed well clear of Mr. Asbo, so all was well on that front. The sculling season may commence.

Reporting back from three weeks stateside

This is most easily done in the form of lists I think. Lets start with what seemed most important: food. The number of meals I declined to count, as they were more than three a day if you include snacks (of which there were many), but, in addition to eating chez les in-laws, we ate at:

• the brother in-law's (Christmas Day = 27 people, Boxing Day)

• the aunt's (New Year's Day = 13 people); and, in order,


• Culver's (on the drive to Wisconsin), where I was culverized


• MacDonald's (on the drive back from Wisconsin)


• Perkins (which was a little less than mediocre)


• Dynasty Buffet (Chinese all you can eat, which I don't particularly care for)


• Ruby Tuesdays (my choice, it has a good salad bar)


• International House of Pancakes (a breakfast meal following a mass on New Year's Eve)


• Lone Star Steak House (to get the boy a steak)

Whilst we mostly stayed at my parents-in-law's condominium, we also visited:

their house in Wisconsin

the brother-in-law's house (or mansion, since, as the boy likes to point out, it has pillars)

the Grandma's house several times

an Aunt's house once

and the duplex of the Grandpa's girlfriend several times

Further we went to a number of church services, and took in three churches, viz:

• the first Sunday (although on TV from a chapel in La Crosse, as the roads were too bad to drive in Wisconsin)


• Christmas Eve (at St. Vincent's, the usual church for this trip)


• the second Sunday


• New Year's Eve twice (once a mass said for the repose of the soul of the deceased Grandpa, once for the vigil of the Solemnity of Mary, both at St. Philomena's)


• the third Sunday

I learnt two ditties, both the eldest and youngest female members of the clan; respectively:

• I'm old and grey and have lost my way, and all my tomorrows are yestersdays (a repeated refrain), and


• a, b, c, d, e, 1, 2, 3, Thank you Lord for feeding me (the timing of which should require little explanation)

I also witnessed plenty of weather (as well as plenty of worrying over said weather), including:

• an ice storm (which put the kaibosh on a intended jaunt out to eat at Hometown Buffet for the father-in-law's birthday)




plenty of snow (leading to plenty of sledging until I finally impaled myself too painfully on a tree to continue)and cold temperatures (down to -25 C)




and a tornado warning (not that I knew it was a tornado warning at the time, being out by myself and hearing what sounded like air-raid sirens).

And finally, in a list of one, I went to a New Year's Eve dance with the aforesaid Grandpa and girlfriend (aged 88 and 91 respectively) at a Senior Citizens' Centre somewhere in central IL. Undoubtedly the highlight of the trip.