To-morrow, I'll arise bright and early (hopefully), and then motor down to Hobart for our monthly Missa cantata, delayed until the last Sunday of the month since our celebrant took his annual holiday earlier in January. (Next Sunday, being the first in February, I'll do the same for Sexagesima.)
It will be good to stand at our priest's side as the M.C. – it is certainly a remarkable thing to be able as a mere layman to assist at Mass by standing next to the priest at the altar during the very Canon (kneeling of course at the Consecration), and a privilege I value highly. Ironically, I would prefer to be singing with the choir, as I used to do, but no one else wants to take on the role of M.C., and it does seem to help Father. In any case, I just hope I don't stuff up.
This being a long weekend, what with Monday being the Australia Day holiday, I will stay Sunday night in Hobart and return the next day. I go back to work on Tuesday, so the shadow of Lent that is Septuagesimatide will certainly fall upon me in truth!
Goodbye, Alleluia: rest in peace until Easter.