Up with the lark !

Lark ? Sparrows we know. Crows we're on first name terms with. Larks ? We know more about the dietary habits of the Outer Patagonians than we do about larks. And yet we'd sing out loud and clear. Sunday morning, up with the lark. I think I'll take a walk in the park. Forget it. You first have to go to church. Sunday morning Mass. The Pope still had'nt decided that Saturday evening worked as well as Sunday morning. So you scrubbed and combed and ironed wrinkles out of your Sunday best. And vaselined your hair and polished your shoes and then marched off to church. As a family . [ because" The family that prayed together stayed together", much to the regret of everyones siblings between 6 and 16 ]. And there was a favourite pew, three rows down from St. Anthony's statue.
The young parents would hang out near the doors. So that if Baba started crying during the sermon they could make a quick exit for the garden. Or if Dad felt like a smoke he could get Baba a little agitated so that he could then legitamately exit. Or if the sermon did'nt grab Mommmy she grabbed the baby for the legitimate exit.
Come summer, a spot under the fan commanded a premium. And once the benches were full you would have to make do with the side benches lining the aisles. And if you were young and foolish, you sat in the confessional. And when even that was occupied you had no choice but to stand outside the church and rely on audio inputs only. Earning yourself Fr. Jerry's label of being an outstanding Catholic.
And then came communion when the lines were long and slow. Euchrastic ministers were just a gleam in the Bishops eye back then. So the whole congregation patiently filed up one by one. It gave us time for prayer and meditation. Meditation about how cute Sandra [ yes from Bandra] looked. And how you would have to time your exit after mass so that your path crossed hers. And it gave Mom time to pray,. Pray that she would remember Mrs. D'costa's dress pattern [ just ahead of her in the communion line] well enough to explain to Bob Tailors.
And then mass was over, and you'd mis-timed the exit and Sandra was walking off with Joe Boy instead of you. And you'd collected your copy of the Examiner from the counter, then and only then were you free to go for a walk in the park. But that would have been at the expense of Sunday breakfast . So the walk in the park lost and the bacon and eggs won .
Pass the marmalade !