It is still too dark, at half past five, to 'read' the eastern sky; this may mean that there is cloudiness overhead. Today's Mass is Eduxit Dóminus pópulum suum in exsultatióne, allelúia (Introibo). The Lord brought forth His people in exultation, alleluia, and His elect in joy, alleluia, alleluia. Presumably today is specially noted as being in Albis (every day in the Octave is in Albis, after all) since tomorrow, Low Sunday as it has been traditionally called, is in fact in Albis deponendis, the day of the taking off of the white baptismal garments. Or maybe today is in Albis deponendis, too, being considered as, as it were, the vigil of tomorrow. I'm sure one of the venerable old fellows will explain this.
Ante Primam. A bit of rain in the air as I took my morning walk, stopping off at the supermarket. Brownie mix (the landlady will eat brownies; not cornbread, for some reason) and vegetable oil, bread, and green beans. The beans sounded so tasty earlier but the frisson has dissipated; rice is left from yesterday so it will be just the beans that occupy my cooking time today. Am drinking a mix of orange, lemon, and tangerine juice that I squeezed ten minutes ago; it is delicious, and the third morning of it, but I wonder how long this addition to the morning routine will last. Time for Prime. The Mass was streamed at Saint-Eugène at... an hour too early for me; the video recording is here. Sunday Mass is back at 0200.
Was interested to re-read this post at Le Salon Beige from yesterday, this morning with its accumulated comments. As one of the commenters suggests, more than likely, so long as the folks at Saint-Eugène make public, rhetorical gestures of obeisance to the plaguers' regime-- masks here there and everywhere, pots of sanitizer at the communion rail-- I presume that Mons Aupetit will manage to forget his 'canonical prosecution' and that the civil prosecutor will exact 30 or so pieces of silver (135 euros seems to be the fine for going about in public without a mask) and get on with his life. What I found of more concern was the one commenter's noticing that Saint-Eugène celebrates the Traditional Rite in its pre-1955 state in Holy Week: these are not the most congenial of circumstances in which to put the existence of formal or informal permission for this into examination. On the other hand, that Mons Aupetit raised the specter of closing the church is unsettling. Time for Terce and a pot of tea.
It's always a good idea to check in at L'Observatoire du Christianophobie; there is a weekly email update, too. It helps with perspective. I mean this in both the larger sense (our fellow Catholics and Christians are being martyred for the Faith) and also in the lesser (that a streak of sprayed paint graffito can be thought of in terms of 'Christianophobia'-- I don't mean that at all dismissively but it is a very broad category indeed that can contain it and martyrdom).
Post Nonam. I am trying out Substack; the experiment is here. There are passages from Blessed Ildefonso and Dom Prosper over there. I cannot see how to add video recordings from YouTube, horrors, nor to decorate the text with red letters. We shall see. It did, the experiment, distract me in any event from pursuing the possibility of again utilizing Squarespace-- there would be twenty bucks a month down the drain, tsk. Far better uses for that money, most definitely.It is also the feast of Saint Maddalena (19th century), of Saint Fulbert (11th century), and of Saint Miguel de los Santos (17th century).
V. Et álibi aliórum plurimórum sanctórum Mártyrum et Confessórum, atque sanctárum Vírginum. R. Deo grátias.