Fletcher saga 05 June 2004

I sent the Fletcher Saga for 25 May 2004 to the usual email list but accidentally added the Orcadia-L email list address. To my amazement I received several complimentary emails from people who actually admitted reading the Fletcher Saga and liking it.
We have been attending the local kirk (Church of Scotland) since we moved to the island. I offered to help out with their organ rota but the kirk is extremely fortunate in having two organists who are quite content to play for all the services between them. When I heard that the local Roman Catholic church had no “official” organist I volunteered my services although I am of the Anglo-Catholic tradition, have never attended a Roman Catholic service and have no intention of “moving over to Rome”. But it was Pentecost and it seemed right and proper to offer my meagre gift of musicianship. On Sunday 31 May I found myself playing for a Tridentine Mass in the tiny church on the Stronsay jetty. The church, which seats about 30 people, is only a few hundred yards from our house and is run by the monks from Papa Stronsay. Like many people I thought the Tridentine Mass was “illegal” after Vatican II in the early 1960s but it isn't and its use appears to be on the increase. Gregorian chant is something that I was aware of – I attended a very short evening course at Tewkesbury Abbey a few years ago – but am not really familiar with it so accompanying it was quite a challenge. The church has a keyboard which looks a bit like the flight deck of the Starship Enterprise and can produce an amazing number of sounds, not all of which are appropriate to the Tridentine Mass or any other church service, so I have been allowed to take the keyboard back home and find out how to get the best sounds from it before next Sunday morning's service. I think that I managed to play the right thing at the right time thanks to the helpful priest who stood next to me and indicated what I should play and when I should play it. It is a good job that all the monks are so familiar with Gregorian Chant that my mistakes did not put them off too much. Anyway, they have asked me to play for them again next Sunday. I was too busy keeping up with the music to pay too much attention to the precise order of service but it seems terribly complex (and is in Latin as well!) so I shall have to start studying it. That's one of the joys of retirement – having the time to do something completely different (in theory anyway).
In this part of the world Bank Holidays do not appear to be noticed by anybody apart from the churches, the tourists, the Post Office and the doctor's surgery. Each and every Sunday one of the two shops closes for the whole day and the other only opens for a couple of hours over lunch-time (but cannot sell alcohol before 1230). However, for the remaining six days of the week both of the shops open very early and close very late.
In one of my previous Sagas I mentioned the garden ornaments that we had brought with us from Scarborough. One of these is a large and very heavy stone carving of a wild boar (emblem of Richard III) that was a gift from a friend many years ago. Maureen is a keen Ricardian and insisted on calling the boar Antonius but I prefer to call him Horace. Well, Horace has now been installed in his new location in the garden and looks quite splendid. The reason I mention Horace is that Maureen was delighted on Wednesday when she saw a wren sat on the wall, just behind Horace. The wren did not stay long but it is good to know that at least one of them is around.
When I was collecting a sack of compost from one of the shops this week the proprietor was concerned that he would soon have to open a new pallet which would mean disturbing a hen that had decided to sit on a clutch of eggs right on top of the last pallet. However, I believe that most of the chicks have now hatched thus relieving the proprieter of the problem.

Last updated 05 June 2004