The Steller's jays seem to quarrel amongst themselves...

Rather than with the other jays, whatever they are called. The dog went with its owner to her workplace this morning, so I'm flinging peanuts out on to the deck with a certain abandon; I have to be careful when the dog is here because he will eat them, foolish animal. Have decided that the robin-like birds that hop forward to collect their peanut are spotted towhees-- what convinced me was a recording of their 'call' that I found somewhere: these birds do make that sound, sure enough, or one of them certainly did.

It is grey and breezy and sunless, and in the mid-50s F. I am cold-- have been all day-- with the windows all open so will finally give in and close 'em. Sigh; I kept hoping that the Sun would shine. The wind is now more than 'breezy'.

Holy Mass this morning (of today's feast of the Most Holy Trinity) was lovely and featured a sequence by Adam of Saint Victor from the Parisian use, Profitentes Unitatem, although it was sung at the offertory: I guess in its usual place it would've been perhaps a step too far. (It is a matter for speculation how Saint Eugène, which officially celebrates according to the Missal of 1962, the so-called 'Extraordinary Form' i.e. the Traditional Mass, manages to use the pre-1955 Rite at important moments-- on Palm Sunday, e.g., and during Holy Week, the Vigil of Pentecost and so forth. It is a parish of the Paris archdiocese.) The troped Kyrie, 'Fons bonitatis', was splendid: they have had this in the repertory for a couple of years at least.

And I was back from my morning spatiamentum in time to say Terce, do some cleaning, and then prepare and eat breakfast before Saint Eugène's Vespers began at 0845. It is always a bit of an oddness, hearing Vespers that early in the day but, eh. I always find myself muttering under my breath, 'St Mary's could do this'-- if only the will were present.

Now I have to close the windows. Gosh.