As a traditional Catholic women's group...

...the Association of Catholic Women depends a lot on funds raised from things like selling home-made jam! So off to the local blackberry patch...which happens to be in the big cemetery. It's a peaceful, large, and interesting place. Among those buried there are victims of the Blitz who could not be personally identified - they lie in a garden grave flanked by a dignified, poignant monument. There are also graves of various notable Londoners - the cemetery dates back to the late 19th century. You can see the different trends in gravestones - weeping angels, crosses, images of Our Lady and of Padre Pio carved into headstones. In the newest section, up by the long blackberry hedge where I gather fruit every year, there is something different. Here, the graves are all on a slant, pointing towards Mecca - it's now the Islamic section, with names and dedications written in Arabic script. When I first started coming here a few years ago this was quite a small section but now it's large and making its own impact on the whole...

Today was an odds-and-ends day of various tasks. I needed a new spare key cut and in the shop fumbled in my bag and produced instead my rosary. "Can you cut another one of these?". The lady in the shop was delighted and laughed out loud as I realised my mistake and rummaged for my key instead. She had an Irish accent "Sure I'm always doing that myself. Still, it's good to have your rosary there when you need it, isn't it?" A sudden sense of a shared bond, and we both enoyed it.

A line of washing flapping satisfyingly across the garden. A broken picture frame mended. The kitchen cleaned. Tackling emails. Odd how it seems to give some people satisfaction to send me anonymous death-threats as Comments to my Blog. Please don't bother.