I first encountered this idea when I was in Manchester, as a kind of response to the self-obsessed, self-deluded prayers of the the 'please God let the sun shine for our barbecue' variety and the cringe-inducing comments of the 'our holiday plane was over-booked but God got us on so that we could have all of our lovely foreign holiday rather than getting there a day late' (preusmably God did not smile on the folk who didn't get in the plane...).  Our Lady of the Parking Place will, in exchange for the requisite number of novenas (whatever they are), grant you a vacant parking space even when the car park is evidently full.  Today she smiled on me, albeit on my third circuit of the block, and my car is now safely and legally parked close to the church.  Which is as well as I need to transport some heavy items back to my flat.

All this reminded me of the time I was industry and shared a free access photocopier with around 200 others.  This necessitated understanding how to load paper, clear jams etc and of course the relevant liturgies and rituals required by the great god Xerox.  Aside from 'work you stupid machine' chanted regularly, it was generally accepted that sacrificing chickens could help...  How many, and how, I know not, but evidently it was effective.

And then there was the grill at the church commnuity centre where I worked part time in my first year of ministerial training, along with a URC student.  It was decidedly tempremental and often needed a good thump to make it work.  Or, as my colleague regularly said, "I'll try a URC blessing and if that doesn't work Catriona will give it Baptist one...'

So now you are all suitably worried at the bizarre rites practised by those elevated to the heights of ordained ministry.  But I'm still pleased I got a parking space today...

I am beginning to wonder if Hyndland railway station is the centre of the known universe!  Five minute's walk from my front door, so the natural start point for my longer journeys. It seems anywhere I might want to get to by train I can do from here, although because of timing issues I have booked some tickets from Glasgow Central instead which will mean taking the 44N bus at odd hours of the day and night.  In which case maybe my house is the centre of the universe as within a minute I can get to the bus stop that will start my journey to anywhere?

Whatever, the reality, I have just booked my train tickets to take me to Birmingham for the BUGB Women in Ministry (WIM) day.  It ought to be called VIK day according to at least one of my friends, where VIK means 'vicars in knickers,' a name we gave to a short-lived group I was part of in Leicestershire.  Whatever the name and wherever the centre of universe might really be, both the location of Hyndland railway station and the WIM/VIK day 'good things' in my world.