I set the alarm for half past seven to be sure to wake up in good time, ready to leave for church at nine. My first assignment was at St Dyfrig & St Samson's covering for Fr Jeff, the retired priest living in the parish. When I arrived, he was already there getting ready for the service. The message that I wasn't needed had not been sent. Not that it mattered. We had a few minutes to re-connect before it was time for him to start. Jeff served in Malta and so we have the Diocese in Europe in common. He's waiting for knee surgery at the moment, so I can stand in for him at short notice when he gets called into hospital.
Rather than return home for an hour, I drove down to St Paul's, parked the car and went for a walk around the neighbourhood. The sun was shining and the temperature had risen to about nine degrees. On my walk I identified where local primary schools are located, the Catholic and Baptist churches, the local park and leisure centre. I have driven through Grangetown many times, and walked along the Taff Trail which is the eastern boundary of the Parish, so it was interesting to gain a richer impression of an area with a century of working class artisan history behind it, but is now a collection of communities of diverse ethnicity and religious culture.
In the area I walked through individuals and families were making their way towards St Patrick's Catholic church for the ten o'clock Mass. Several people smiled and said Good Morning as I passed, and the same was true in a street where people were simply heading for the local convenience store. Fewer people greet strangers in the streets of Canton or Pontcanna than down in Grangetown. Perhaps because more people are themselves strangers and unsure of themselves in this rapidly gentrifying and upwardly mobile part of the city.
In the distance I could hear a ring of bells being raised before being pealed to summon worshippers. I think it was coming from the tower of St Augustine's Penarth, on the headland the other side of Cardiff Bay. Pontcanna is much nearer Llandaff Cathedral, but the sound of its peal of bells isn't audible to those who live on the west side of the area, as it's blocked by Penhill. You have to walk out to Llandaff Fields in line of sight to hear them ring. St Augustine's tower is 200 feet above the Bay and the flood plain Grangetown stands on.
At St Paul's there were over thirty of us for the Mass including half a dozen children. There weren't any technical hitches this week, except me forgetting to chat with the Sunday school kids after Communion and needing to be reminded of it, as there wasn't a prompt in the digital script I was following, but I fitted it in after the blessing and dismissal and before the final hymn. I'm finding some of the liturgical prayers hard to read aloud as they are derived from an English translation of the Latin rite which doesn't ring true to a native English speaker as their grammatical construction is different. The translation of the Mass into English post-Vatican Two was closer linguistically to its Anglican counterpart and flowed nicely when read aloud. A revision made over fifteen years ago was intended to clarify and correct the language of the prayers hasn't been universally welcomed by Catholics, Roman or Anglican. I think I need to rehearse them in future before using them in the liturgy.
Kath and Anto were out walking when I got back from church. Clare and Rachel were preparing Sunday lunch. We sat at table and chatted for a while after eating, then did a circuit of Thompsons Park before Kath and Anto returned to Kenilworth, and another week of intense preparations for their new show, being premiered in mid February. As we were sitting together, Rhiannon's flight touched down in Geneva where she and Tal her boyfriend are spending a few days after their Warwick Castle cosplay contract ended. She's applying for a University place to study Fashion Design, maybe in Birmingham, Manchester or London, where he has received provisional offers.
Rachel and I did another circuit of Llandaff Fields as the sun was setting. While we were out Clare made salmon soup for supper. We had laver bread to go with it - a delicious pleasure. Then I watched another episode of 'Patience' about an unexplained death in a museum. The mystery was lifted straight from an episode of Astrid - Murder in Paris. The actor who plays the autistic sleuth is herself neuro-diverse, so plays the part with real sensitivity and understanding. The series story lines are being widely criticised in the media for being so similar to 'Astrid', and Channel 4 has admitted it's an English version of the French original. Will it survive the first series run of six episodes? We'll see.
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