Vicar of Sniffwick

I have been out and about over the Christmas period, busy meeting my parishioners. I was in the Red Lion on Boxing Day having a festive half pint when I heard a conversation in which Nigel Sommers mentioned that he knew the televisual presenter Jeremy Clarkson awfully well. How I laughed at the gasps from my fellow drinkers, how impressed they were with Nigel! Well as a priest I pointed out, I can honestly number Jesus Christ and God amongst my closest friends, now that is name dropping!

To the Dunhams in Wiltshire for the weekend, where I met once again a dear old friend, Miss Bone, who happily will be staying here with Mrs York at Granchester House in February. We spent many an hour in prayerful thought and meditation. How nice to have a break from one’s housekeeper!

I am very keen on attracting young people back to the church and to this “groovy” end I plan to run a Faith Club for our youngsters every Thursday evening from six until half past eight. “Fat Boy” Trevor will be in situ as it were, running the thing. Any one interested can just turn up and enjoy the fun and informal atmosphere. Bring a guitar if you want to rock and roll! How about a rape song about Christ? Get the synthesisers going!

For the older parishioners we are hoping to hold a monthly tea party at the vicarage to which everyone is welcome! We will provide tea and cakes, at a modest price, which should see off any undesirables, apart from the two required to serve said tea. Note to self, ask Mrs Clapworthy and Mrs Prunes.

There has been some consternation about my comments on the new youth project, as you know I am not au fait with modern vernacular and of course I meant to say a wrap song about Jesus Christ. Can this error now be laid to rest?

Went to bless the river for the upcoming coarse, (quite agree with that) angling season. Mr Clapworthy, the Chairman of the club, (Chairman indeed! how they do arrange things these people!) smoked right through the Fishers of Men, then insisted I make the first cast, snagged the blessed hook in a weeping willow! Succour was provided by Mrs York at tea time, who was quite as traumatised by the experience as I!

Made a pastoral visit to the new estate, where cars are parked on “Drives.” Forgive me but I thought a drive stretched more than eight feet! What would dear old Sir John have to say about that? Save us from the ghastly hot house atmosphere of the porch! What purpose does it serve? Where does one knock, or ring? Does one enter this appalling annex or not? Welcomed by a row of pungent shoes! The bell did not work and the letter box snapped my fingers off. A Mrs Bennett was accommodated in what they called the “front room”. It made me almost tearful to think that this was once the site of Lady Murray’s orchard, what gay times they were! The woman dipped her biscuits in her tea, heaven must be better organised! Eternity with this digestive dredger just won’t do.