Winter.

'Did you hear the one about....'

After Mass in Bolton Priory last Saturday.

Winter is here, it seems. The rain is hammering down, bouncing off the pavements. The trees are not shedding but I had to put the heating on last night and I woke up cold this morning. Alas, I have not been offered a curacy in Umbria, so I shall just have to wear a jumper. Happy news came this morning from Canon David Skeoch in London that he will be joining us for the Holy Cross Day High Mass at Saint Hilda's. It is always nice to welcome friends old and new. In the evening I will be at solemn vespers and Benediction at Saint Cuthbert's in Darwen and I hope to bring you pictures of the exquisite vestments we shall be using. The Sunday after that is our Parish Priest's forty fifth anniversary of being made Deacon, so there will be a meal at home, but on All Saints Sunday, we will be celebrating his seventy eighth birthday with drinks in Church after Mass, so you are all very welcome.

I will, this week, decide whether I am to accept the offer from the Diocese of a curacy or whether I am to look further afield. Things are very unclear at the moment, so do continue praying for me. The more I think about things, the more problems and the more resolutions I discover.

An Autumn Rain-Scene by Thomas Hardy

There trudges one to a merry-making
With sturdy swing,
On whom the rain comes down.

To fetch the saving medicament
Is another bent,
On whom the rain comes down.

One slowly drives his herd to the stall
Ere ill befall,
On whom the rain comes down.

This bears his missives of life and death
With quickening breath,
On whom the rain comes down.

One watches for signals of wreck or war
From the hill afar,
On whom the rain comes down.

No care if he gain a shelter or none,
Unhired moves on,
On whom the rain comes down.

And another knows nought of its chilling fall
Upon him at all,
On whom the rain comes down.