Last night three of us went out to view a flat, a possible for the manse.  Having braved arctic conditions even in relatively tropical Glasgow (it was a mere -9 to -10) we entered the cosy abode and were shown around by the owner.  She then commented, "I gather you're looking for a house for a minister."  Yes, we said, and exhibit 'A' stepped forward.  The poor vendor was most embarrassed and cross with herself, 'oh my goodness, I just assumed it would be a man, and me a feminist too' (or words to that effect).  I appreciate I am something of an a rarity in this part of world, but such an assumption wouldn't be that odd further south either.  Still, I guess a girl in jeans, boots and a thick winter coat doesn't exactly look like the stereoptypical Reverend.... thankfully!