Alice Goodman
@revdalicegoodman
'I never dreamt that I would get to be the creature that I always meant to be.' parish priest in the Church of England. Librettist.
Destà. '‘The woman is the free subject in the history of human slavery whereas man represents the organised memory of slavery itself.’ Elvira Banotti.
And if your brain is still tired, here is GM Hopkins SJ's ms of The Windhover.
Check out Anderson Jeremiah's: as perfect as a mitre can be in this sinful world. And have a look at Edward King's if you're ever at Cuddesdon. He was the first bishop to wear a mitre and Eucharistic vestments in the Church of England after the the Reformation. On the small side, but what a saint!
Stig, who would never have left my side, has left my side. Born on the Feast of St Dominic 2012. Dog of God. Stig, son of Tig, grandson of Buffy. A great line of seriously good lurchers.
She would always make sure there was good coffee. Here she is with GWH and RW at Keble, all looking amused.
The Altar of Repose at St Vigor's Fulbourn last night. That's John Caraway's cadaver tomb underneath. Colossians 3.3: For you have died, and your life is hid with Christ in God.
An older photo: out on a walk with the whole gang (this was before Margot joined us)
On the beach, with Stig, Cinnamon, Holly, and, if you look very closely, Margot by my feet.
This is Stig, Cinnamon, and Hansel together. They have seen something interesting.
This is Cinnamon, on holiday up on the moors, doing her Caspar David Friedrich impression
I doubt they'll send the National Guard to Utah. I imagine them singing a song about him though
Our beautiful little church at Six Mile Bottom is their work. Consecrated 1933.
Also updating the Dragon, who will process around the church with the Bishop before being banished to the outer regions. This is last year's decoupage.
Tomorrow we celebrate our patronal at St Vigor's (also All Saints, transferred). This afternoon I've been baking the holy, dragon-taming Bishop of Bayeux in gingerbread.
It's a small item in the ocean of the world's griefs, but today I am mourning my little terrier Pansy. Fierce and loving agent of chaos. The Stinknugget.
No complaints though: the Flower Ladies have worked their magic