Twittering About

I am a fan of Twitter. As a Tweep, I indulge my passion for political inactivism and playing with words. I am, after all, a self-declared wordsmith. Formative years forced to study grammar, and an undergraduate creative writing course, have borne fruit. Twitter, I assert with conviction, is my one weakness.

But I’m now in a quandary. What is One  to do, when an internationally renowned  Franciscan priest and teacher suddenly ups and “Follows” One? This is serious. 

I am not always polite. I sometimes swear. I am overtly political. What if one of my carefully crafted put-downs puts him off? Or my photo flipping the finger at a Troll gives offence? I could be putting myself in danger of losing my most prestigious follower! 

Oh What The Hell. I Tweet like a real Human. I like to think that’s why he ( ie his media team) followed me in the first place … 

Acquaint yourself with my “dark side” here: @maryeffrancis. 

 

Poem

Yes, I’m Woke …

 Are you? 

PhotoStop#1

My first visit to Gloucester Cathedral was on a school trip, via the upper deck of a No 3 bus with Class 4A1 - all 42 of us. I hadn’t a camera then, but have returned many times to capture special images - and this is my favourite:

You have to know where to find it, and be prepared to lift the seats in the Choir, preferably when guardian angels are looking the other way … . It’s a ‘misericord’ ( mercy seat) a ledge on which the monks could park their butts during the long hours of chanting. If you can’t picture the mechanics of the misericord, imagine lifting the toilet seat, and perching atop it. 

I love this carving because it’s mischievous, anarchical, and ever so slightly blasphemous.

Or should that be blarsephemous?

:)