It seems like such a long time since the Vicar has allowed us to write anything of substance on this blog; we’re so sorry if your lives have seemed strangely empty without us. Luckily, the Vicar has kindly deigned to spend a minute or two in the Vicarage today, so we can finally get onto the computer. That’s just as well, since we couldn’t let today pass without comment.
Yes, dear friends, it is the Feast Day of S. Peter Chanel, that most fragrant of Saints. He was a 19th Century Missionary in the Pacific Islands, who worked hard in education and caring for the sick before being beaten to death with a club and having his body hacked to pieces with hatchets.
Sadly, the perfume of saintliness does not seem to have spread to the Vicarage, which has only just stopped smelling of bins. The Vicar, in her usual houseproud way, spent about two weeks moaning to anyone who would listen (and quite a few people who, sensibly, would not) about how the downstairs smelt like something was rotting in it.
Guess why that was… Something was rotting in it, namely half a lemon, which the Vicar had brought home from Church and then left lying about in the sitting room. It was located and humanely destroyed by the Head Server. For once, the Vicar was actually grateful, although this may be because the Head Server also found some tonic water and half a bottle of gin in the same place.
You’d think that the sweet smelling savour of the Vicarage would encourage the Vicar to stay home, but not a bit of it. She’s been out gallivanting all weekend. On Friday, which is her day off when she is supposed to spend quality time with us, she spent most of the day at some sort of exciting social event called Kairos. We tried hard to prevent her from going (Martha was even sick on the hall floor), but it was to no avail. Sunday was no better, as she was at the APCM (we think this is something like the YMCA, but we don’t know if those nice boys from the Village People were there). But the worst of it all was Saturday, when she left the house at 5:30 am (no, we didn’t know that time existed either) and didn’t return until about 10:30 at night.
Actually, we didn’t mind being left alone, as we had a lovely young visitor in the afternoon who gave us lots of cuddles and let us watch the telly. But we did mind the Vicar trying to claim that she was out doing valuable pastoral work on the Parish Picnic in Bayeux.
This is clearly nonsense, as we know for a fact that Bayeux has a really good scratching mat, but nobody brought it home for us.
Anyway, we don’t believe that the Vicar did a stroke of work all day. We have it on good authority from all the picnickers that she’s nothing but a layabout.