Up late for Jesus. Eating a bit of his body, drinking some ribena. I’m not sure transubstantiation works on ribena to be honest. I’m willing to trust the little wafers for my fix of holy cannibalism but if it’s not wine it’s just a sugary drink, my Godvampirism won’t be sated.
Nevertheless it was glorious. Chelsea Old Church. Hymns in exactly the key that is easiest to play on organ but literally nobody can sing them in their register. A huge congregation of tipsy rich people pretending to be devout. Vast old money, trophy wives and idiots like me, all mixed in together. Alex the bass from Othello sings in the choir there.
Last time I went to that church for that second was probably thirty years ago now and the vicar at the time gave us all a right bollocking for only showing up for that service. It put me off enough that even though it’s fifteen minutes walk from mineI sacked it off for a few decades and just focused on the sprouts.
Brian and I have been prepping. We peeled potatoes, trimmed veg, peeled carrots. I made two Mushroom Wellingtons, some cauliflower cheese and some vegetarian roast tatties as most of them will be an apocalypse of liquid goose. I stuffed the turkey and baconned it and wrapped it.. I’ll chuck in the chipolatas tomorrow. There’s a lot to do still, plus picking up in the morning. I’ll get underway when I can. Need sleep now.
I’m happy to be shriven. Most of the church I’ve done recently has been Catholic mass which is comforting and Latin and there are nice smells. This had some modern language in the creeds and so forth, still using the “trespassers” version of the lord’s prayer which is comforting, largely a pleasant service. The vicar kicked off his sermon with a Shakespeare quote, threw in some casual ancient Greek… I was best friends with him by the time he had finished what was a very nicely balanced thought for the day. A few assumptions and generalisations but the guy believes in God for a living so I cut him some slack. We all sang “little town of Bethlehem”. “Not so fucking still we are seeing it lie right now,” one of my neighbours pointed out in a whisper. “We were in the naughty section,” Lou said on the way home, but I have a feeling our whole section was the naughty section. Most of the people around us had already had plenty of the Blood of Christ. The ribena probably stopped them tipping over the edge.
Happy happy Christmas you glorious people, wherever you may be. zzzzzz
AlBarclay 