Up at sparrow yesterday morning to attend the forty day memorial service for Maria. It actually started at seven-thirty but we didn’t get to the church until just before nine and it was over by ten. Still two and a half hours is plenty of time for a church service, especially one in which you can’t make out a word of what’s being said or droned, except for “Alleluia” which I heard a number of times. The church was pretty full so the smoke from the many candles was creating diagonal shafts of lights with the sun shining through the windows. Very theatrical, very atmospheric. And talking of theatrical, have just read Chris’s book on Champagne Charlie, the first part that is as he is intent on having it published in two volumes and very good it is too; an easy read jam packed with interesting and fascinating facts and anecdotes. His research has really been quite amazing. I very much doubt I would have had the patience to chase up, discover, and absorb so much detail. The great thing also is it is not just about George Leybourne but the whole period and what it must have been like.
Raining this morning, quite heavily, and Sweeney, the old girl, is still with us much to my daily surprise. It reminds me of the television programme when Queen Elizabeth lst refused to die but sat up all night with her finger in her mouth; at least that is how it was portrayed by Glenda Jackson. Pity she gave up acting to become a Labourite, she was a great actress, Glenda not Elizabeth. Though, come to think of it, Elizabeth might have been as well, thinking of her speeches.
But back to the church, the church of Saint Nikolas, the main church of the village and quite an imposing one, unlike the tiny one just down the road from us and the one in which we celebrate Easter with our Greek friends. Greece is as full of churches as England used to be of pubs. The reredos is topped by Jesus on his cross, the one that is borne through the village in great lamentation once a year, there are paintings of saints along the walls, a quite magnificent throne, presumably for use by a visiting Bishop or other church VIP, and a number of large very ornate, rather vulgar gilt(?) chandeliers with innumerable candle-shaped bulbs interspersed with little portraits of saints, the central chandelier also having a large basket of crystal pendants beneath. So, even if one doesn’t understand the service, is not in the habit of crossing oneself three times every now and again, sitting down standing up, sitting down again, standing up again, at least there is a whole lot in the surroundings to keep one from dropping off.
I shall now go and see if I can get Sweeney to eat something. She’s had hardly any nourishment for almost a week and I honestly don’t think she can last much longer. However she doesn’t appear to be in any pain, at times is quite alert (very brief times admittedly) and will no doubt pass away peacefully. She’s been a great pet and I hope we’ve given her a great life, all sixteen years of it. She is the last of the animals we brought out from England twelve years ago.