Rhubarb rhubarb

Today was an inter-novitiate day, and a jaunt down to Oxford. There were to be more of us from Mucknell, but it ended up just being me. I did try calling the Franciscans the other side of Worcester to ask for a lift, but was too late. So as we left Oxford at the end of the day, there was the unedifying spectacle of two Frannies and two Poor Clares squishing into a tiny red Micra (comparable to yesterday's ladybird), and just me in Mucknell's ginormous silver Ford estate. So much for our sustainability effort! All I can write in defence is that I tried, and that the Ford is diesel, high mpg and low road tax band.

I brought back some rhubarb plants (native of Siberia) and welsh onions (native of, well, Siberia), kindly donated by Tymawr to the kitchen garden effort. I remember a Rogation procession at Tymawr back in May 2000, complete with sprinking of holy water, which was forbidden to go anywhere near the rhubarb patch, on the grounds that it didn't need any encouragement thank you very much! I am hoping for similar plenitude; the weather yesterday was Siberian enough.