Amy Winehouse, nuns, snot, Mom, and chickens....

Inside every former Catholic school girl is an Amy Winehouse screaming to get out..... in fact, Winehouse coming along has been a bit reassuring, until then it had been a demented anti-Barbie screaming to get out. Now we can give our inner (dysfunctional) child a persona anchored (?) in reality. Fereday, raised in the somewhat more relaxed lapsed C of E vein, finds Catholicism truly bizarre. As he's never been to Catholic school, he can't quite appreciate the way the sight of nuns (God's Darleks) makes me shiver with a feeling of being inappropriately dressed. However, Catholic school has supplied me with innumerable anecdotes to draw on during dark hours when I feel compelled to lighten the mood. I'm bemused at the hysterics that greet my revelation about school dances when the nuns used to wander among the frustrated teens on the dance floor reminding us to "make room for the Holy Spirit".... I always wished I'd responded, "Why, does he like Simple Minds???" I think the thought of standing next to Sister Joseph while she repeated my cheekiness to my Mom meant I refrained from this course of action. Still, the nuns didn't always get the best deal... we managed to convince our somewhat deaf French teacher Sister Reginata (Reggie) that "blow job" meant blowing your nose. The thought of her shouting down the hall to Father Dominic that she needed to get a tissue for a blow-job still makes me collapse with laughter. Anyway, this brings me on to my Mom.A story that my Mom related to me at some point in my childhood stays with me. I regret that my knowledge of the finer details is limited, but I know the basics. And, at least once a week, I find myself picking the tale up like a dusty Rubik's Cube and having a bit of a fiddle with it.... I've never really worked out what the moral of the story is...When my Mom was a little girl, she was given a peep one Easter. A peep is a baby chicken. Now, my Mom seems to have loved her chicken. (I'm ashamed to admit that I don't know its name, or even if she gave it a name.) My grandmother was big into the church. She and my paternal grandmother cleaned the church every week - waxing the pews, polishing the silver, etc. On a bit of a rota system, the priests would visit the houses of parishioners for Sunday dinner. (You know where this is going?) Well, my Mom's parents weren't too well off, and when their turn to host the priests came up.... well, so did the clock for my Mom's chicken. To this day, my Mom isn't too keen on chicken,... but she's still a regular church goer.I don't know why, but this one story of my Mom's childhood stays with me. I know there are lots of other things that happened to her - she fell out of a taxi once when the door came off (it was after the war, and manufacturing was of a poor standard) and her Mom didn't notice until they'd gone around the corner - but for some reason, this story stands out.Myself, I'm not too fond of organised religion or keeping chickens. Fereday makes a great roast chicken dinner... and I'm always truly thankful for it!

I am so certainly going to hell! Kerrie - you reminded me of the patent leather shoes... I think boys couldn't wear them either to dances, etc. I don't think I ever had the yellow pages - come to think of it, I don't think we had any advice on sitting on a boy's lap.

We still have priests and nuns in the family, and - I've got to say it - they really are / were some of my favourite relatives. My Aunt Katherine was famed for her wedding cakes - some taller than herself - and its so poignant that this woman never made her own wedding cake or one for her daughters.

Just to reinforce my Catholic street cred - my sister was confirmed by Bishop Marchinkus - the Vatican banker.... he even was featured in the Da Vinci Code.

"Others have ID ed it.
I chop them off at ground level with secutears then spray a drop or two of Praxys on the wound... if it doesnt killt he first time, it will the 2nd or 3rd"

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Comments

Kerrie John-The garden design Co July 27, 2008 at 9:35pm

Laugh, thought I would die! Poor Reggie, you realise that she spent the rest of her life in confession and is always reminded of you (and Father Dominic) when she blows her nose.

We were always told by the Sister Solasctica never to wear patent leather shoes, as a boy could see your pants in the reflection (tells you how pervy nuns thinking is) and if you sit on a boys lap make sure that you place a yellow pages on his lap first. What advice, I'm not even Catholic!
Lara Warner July 29, 2008 at 3:00pm

Wow Cat and Kerrie you both sent shivers down my spine. I also endured a convent education and it would appear it wasn't much different to yours. The biology textbooks had plain paper with "this contravenes the Catholic faith" typed on them and sellotaped over any pages to do with contraceptives!

I can see the funny side of it now its half a life ago but I don't think its an experience I will inflict on the mini Warners in a hurry! There's only a few of the "old school guard" left in our family so not many incense filled occasions are to be attended. I still can't stand the smell of the stuff though.
Cat Fereday July 29, 2008 at 5:40pm

I am so certainly going to hell! Kerrie - you reminded me of the patent leather shoes... I think boys couldn't wear them either to dances, etc. I don't think I ever had the yellow pages - come to think of it, I don't think we had any advice on sitting on a boy's lap.

We still have priests and nuns in the family, and - I've got to say it - they really are / were some of my favourite relatives. My Aunt Katherine was famed for her wedding cakes - some taller than herself - and its so poignant that this woman never made her own wedding cake or one for her daughters.

Just to reinforce my Catholic street cred - my sister was confirmed by Bishop Marchinkus - the Vatican banker.... he even was featured in the Da Vinci Code.
Kerrie John-The garden design Co July 30, 2008 at 5:37pm

Why couldn't boys wear patent shoes, unless they wore bishops gear to dances.

I love the sound of Aunt Katherine and her high rise cakes. Maybe she thought it would all go wrong making them for loved ones, or that her thoughts, whilst making the cakes,would wander and take the 'loving touch' from her skilled hands.

Were you named after her?
Cat Fereday July 30, 2008 at 10:38pm

Yes, Aunt Katherine was wonderful. Sadly, now departed. I wasn't named for her, but for my Mom's best friend.... it's actually "Carolynne".