Well that was fun

Yesterday's jolly at the church hit the spot on so many levels I can't decide where to begin.

First the sun shone - a good omen, especially as the ever-present midges prefer damp weather and the church looks so pretty on a sunny day. The service was two hours long but for me it didn't seem so because I felt engaged all the way through. This was partly because I had to sit right at the front with the choir and so felt part of the proceedings and partly because I had three things to do - which I suppose was rather excessive, but there are so few folk to spread the jobs around.

It was so nice to see so many people from St Ninian's, which was my church when I lived in Glasgow (we've all got older and greyer and people kept telling me I look like my mother, which is a compliment I think because she was a great character) and I really enjoyed being surrounded by so many friends from all over.

But the very best thing about yesterday was the fellowship within our own congregation. For once church politics were forgotten, grouches laid aside and everyone pulled together to put on a splendid occasion. There was real warmth from the people who welcomed the new rector into our church. Everyone had taken part in some way to make the day happen and I felt we all shared a sense of possession, if that's the right word, of the whole. Our lovely bishop, with his warmth and sincerity and exuberance, made it feel like a family occasion which combined dignity with a pleasing degree of comfortable informality which is something I love about this diocese.

And speaking of informality - while I'm all for children in church, I do think a two hour service is a bit much for a baby and the one who attended yesterday was vociferous in its protest. Sometimes it was difficult even for me at the very front to hear above the racket. When you have children you have to make certain sacrifices in your life - sleep, for example - but it really is rather bad manners to inflict a bawling baby on a trapped audience who can't escape. I'd have thought a little walk in the Bishop's Glen to distract it or help it to sleep would have been better for all concerned. Just my opinion, of course, as a Grumpy Old Woman, but when the bishop, who in another life is an opera singer, has to raise his voice to be heard, what chance do the rest of us have?