Not so fast

Went for a blood test yesterday. Like half the population I've got a blood pressure thing - well under control thankyou. It means a blood test every year or so, and as I hadn't looked at the envelope thing they give you to hand in, I presumed it was a fast-from-midnight one. So, no cereal and orange juice and tea on Friday morning. I get to the lovely nurse and she says "Oh, no fasting today then"! Aaaargh... and I was going straight to Mass too. Luckily someone tempted me with a cup of coffee and bickie (biccie? bicky), to keep me going.

Llanishen Court surgery is a doddle. In one of my former parishes, I had to run the gauntlet of various parishioners to get to see the doc. "You arright father?? Wassamatta with you?" would be shouted across the crowded waiting room. I'd be identified with a "Thass the vicar oo done my neighbour's kid". I was glad my baptismal ministry was appreciated. "Yeah, ee's nice innie? Better than that vicar down the other church." All ecumenical niceties were out the window as my Catholic chest swelled up in pride. In Llanishen Court it's a quiet murmuring, with the odd "How are you, Father?"