Housewarming.
The way we do these things probably reflects more of the pagan idea than anything else: lots of noise, lots of alcohol, finding and cleaning the perimeter of the property to keep badness out — though the boundaries non-druids are more likely to experience are those between the enthusiasm of their guests and the patience of the new neighbours. I was invited to a housewarming out in Coburg for a chap newly moved to Melbourne, studying at the UFT. Apparently I misheard, because today I went to a house blessing, complete with order of service, priest in fancy vestments, altar in back yard, incense, Holy Communion, the works.
The turnout was good — twenty or so of us, the few family members outnumbered by the mostly South Yarra crowd: eleven gay men and a fabulous priest named Dorothy (of course). We stood in scorching sunlight in the front garden, nervously leafing through the twelve page order of service, waited for the priest to finish the ceremonial pre-service pfaffing, and said silent and earnest prayers that this wouldn’t take all that long, and that there’d be enough alcohol to forget it properly waiting for us at the end.
Coburg on a Sunday has its own distinctive local fauna, (more…)
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