Imagining home — 4 Comments

  1. Ian: I hope that’s true for you . . . home where your hat lays. If you were a Catholic cleric, it would be home where your biretta lays. . .

  2. Not too many birettas in evidence these days. I was walking the dogs the other evening when three men in their twenties were walking down the other side of the dual carriageway; seeing the collar, they shouted comments about abusive priests. It must be hard to be in the ranks of Catholic clergy these days.

  3. Ian: You said, “seeing the collar” . . . as in YOUR collar? I thought I was oblique. But if it was you, I’m sorry about the shouting. Even I don’t do that. I have a very good and close friend still in the ranks. I haven’t seen a biretta in a while, either. But as a kid, we had to memorize the names: stole, cincture, alb, cassock, chasuable, biretta, miter, zuchetto, etc. You can take the kid out of the catholic, but it’s tough to take the catholic out of the kid . . .

  4. Sorry for the obliqueness, Dublin vernacular! It was my collar. It didn’t disturb me – but maybe it should.

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