I arrived back home to-night quite tired, after driving back from Hobart; I'd driven down yester-day, and to-day M.C.'d the Palm Sunday Procession and Missa Cantata there at St Canice, Lower Sandy Bay, our monthly Latin Mass.
All thanks to the choir - they sang beautifully, even successfully tackling the whole very lengthy Tract, to say nothing of the many processional chants preceding the Mass itself. All thanks to Bede, Aidan, and Liam, the trusty servers, too. And spare a thought for Fr Quinn: he'd already said one Mass, and was heading off to celebrate a third (for which reason, given the rubrical permission to do so, I suggested to him what seemed best, that is, to read only the short Gospel of the Passion, rather than the very lengthy full Passion).
I was pleased that procession and Mass combined lasted a decent but not excessive 1 hour and 40 minutes. A survey of attendees revealed that few were too upset at this allowable abbreviation.
I was also gratefully amused by what Tony said to me at lunch afterward: "You must have been the only person there who knew what to do during the blessing of palms" - true! (But I had to actually bring Fortescue-O'Connell-Reid with me, into the very sanctuary during the service, despite a rehearsal beforehand; and – mea maxima culpa – I forgot to have Father say the prayer at the conclusion of the procession, instead conducting him straight to the chair to be vested for Mass.)
Now, to bed...