Secrets and lies

It's reassuring when you get a sweet thrust into your hand after the rummaging under the robes. That sounds all wrong, but it's too late in the day to find other words for the spectacle of the processions. They are solemn and daunting with a strange undercurrent of joy. I used to love the squeak of the wax on the streets after, but now they have silly candles that use gas (at least they aren't electric). The bare feet and chains were out though. Someone told me they used to put bunches of a particular herb on the streets and the smell as it was crushed lasted for days, but it is now a protected species. I will try to find out what it was.

We will be going off in different directions tomorrow. Meanwhile, Ben and I are watching a little Father Ted to get things straight.