I arrived at the church yesterday for 9am Morning Prayer - normally there is a small turn-out for this service. Well, the vicar was there, with a bright-red spade, and he had just started shovelling.
Only half an inch of snow fell on Sunday night (on top of the existing frozen slush and previously compacted snow) but the church is on a steep ungritted hill, and a funeral cortege was due to arrive at 10am. Vans and cars were struggling to get up the hill.
So Morning Prayer took on an entirely different form.
Three of us took part, with shovels... 40 minutes of hard work later and the curate had a bright red face, hair plastered to her head with sweat, and looked as if she had just run a mile in, oooh, twenty minutes. Time to finish grit-spreading, go home and do some desk-work.
Oops, we're missing a verger. "Will you do the verger's job please?"
A sartorial clergy crisis ensued as it dawned on me that a FLM reject fleece and plastered wet hair (no, I didn't even have a comb with me) doesn't fit the 'appropriately dressed' part of the working arrangements. Luckily the funeral was 20 minutes late starting, and Penny lent me a hair-brush (Thanks!).
Later that day I realised I'd also dropped some food down the front of the fleece... (I wonder when I did that?) Next time I'll put on a cassock to cover the inappropriate clothing, but I only thought of that half-way through the service. Biretta anyone?
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