Ah, Quinquagesima at last!
I’ve just had that rare thing for a person on a low to non existent income – an exotic winter holiday, before Lent.
There I was basking in turquoise waters, along side brilliant yellow Emperor Angel fish, electric blue parrot fish and sleeping sea cucumbers. I felt fit. I felt brown. I almost felt slim but kept prodding myself in the new concave areas of my body that were appearing, looking for tumours like some relentless diver seeking for pearls.
Mass on Sunday and sometimes during the week. Holy Mass in my head and in my heart, but please God, no mass in my belly.