Grappling with Synthia

A triumph for Mrs McElhone, on the Friday Fast Front. As the last mouthful of omelette fluttered gently over my tongue like golden angel feathers onto the tomb of a Virgin Martyr, and down my throat into the catacombs of my digestive system, I was compelled to utter "Truly, "Mrs Mac, I hereby dub you "Regina Ovi Coquina".

She looked a little suspicious as she wiped her hands on her pinny, and collected the plates. "That reminds me, Your Grace, Miss Bracket can't do Benediction tonight, so you'll have to fire up Synthia, or do it as plainchant".

Synthia - they don't advertise the fiendish cabling, I notice

That was a bit of a blow, as you can imagine. I simply can't face fiddling with Synthia's cabling - I prefer to leave that  to Mrs Butler from the UCM, or one of her co-madres,who seem to know more about that sort of thing. UCM-ers are a little thin on the ground at Friday Benediction, however, as it clashes with Bingo night at the United Reformed Church, and as Mrs Butler explained to me, "Canon Lewis says it's important to be ecumenical and stay true to our working class roots, while avoiding occasions of bourgeois recidivism involving dead languages".

I must admit that the switch to a Latin litany has not been universally popular, but we do get quite a large crowd of local LMS bods, and that certainly keeps the landlord of the Cat and Fiddle happy, as he forages far and wide for extra stocks of Trollston Old Peculiar, and Pat at the local micro-brewery told me he plans to expand his operations, build a conservatory, and send his son to Ampleforth next year.

"I'll do chant," said I to Mrs Mac. "When you are out buying your Euromillions ticket later, could  you pop into the chemist and buy me a giant pack of Covonias to hand round the congregation". Be prepared, I always say (although I was never allowed to join the Scouts, because my mother held strong views about Baden Powell being a freemason).