My most successful blog post of all time is just about to get its annual boost. Always gets readers in the week running up to pancake day.
Yes – it is the Provost’s Famous Pancake Recipe.
Full instructions here: http://thurible.net/20040224/pancake_receipt/
I love the Dali but thought it was much better in the St Mungo than Kelvingrove. SJC was the poetry/spirituality of my High Church youth.
Actually, I prefer it in Kelvingrove though that may be something to do with the memory of going to see it as a child.
I think I heard that they are shifting it again from the end of the long collonade, which I think would be a shame, particularly as it was hung in contradistinction to Stephen Conroy’s magnificent self portrait (at the end of the nearest next collonade) which I suspect most people don’t realise is also a crucifixion.
When I saw it in Kelvingrove in August, it was in a small room. Although I waited till the sardine tin crush of no more than a dozen people had left, there was still no space to stand back and appreciate it – the lighting wasn’t helpful either. It was so much better at the end of the long corridor.
I think it had the space at St Mungo and you had plenty of room to sit on the sofa and gaze at it. But hey, it’s still a wonderful art work.
That last entry had scarcely been uploaded more than 2 minutes before the doorbell rang and my colleague from Stirling said, “Do you want a liturgy for licensing a Lay Reader?” Almost enough to make me believe in divine intervention. Almost.
It strikes me as odd that in a church which is supposedly celebrating variety of ministries we appear to have no liturgy for recognising a lay ministry.
Me: Well, “temporary” as a description of a website is a bit of a red herring. After all, websites are all both temporary and not temporary simultaneously.Him: Thank you Confucius.
Was awakened by the most almighty crash at 0230 this morning. It was clear from the noise of pounding hooves that the last trump had sounded and the four horsemen of the apocalypse were riding through the bedroom. [Bear in mind that I had seen an opera last night in which Nero quite properly appeared…
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