Today was the Sunday on which both of our priests' summer holidays overlapped, so a priest from one of the religious orders in the diocese was our celebrant and homilist. During the sermon, she included a few autobiographical details on how she came to the monastic life. I felt a slight pang when I heard this, which may be a sign. The religious life still holds a certain measure of appeal for me, it seems. My RC confirmation teacher, whom I idolised at the age of 14, once told me that religious priests were the best priests.
It was nice to sing the liturgy to Merbecke, which I never tire of, but despite being "page 230" (what our American cousins would call "Rite I") the celebrant injected a highly contemporary "feel" into the Mass. For one thing, we (I was the subdeacon) administered the sacrament to her, which I am not accustomed to doing (though I did so once in a Lutheran context). This was after she had communicated us, which would spark controversy in some circles. Personally, I can see merit to both the host-eats-last and completing-the-sacrifice-first arguments, so I tend to err on the side of Tradition.
It was a successful service, and I hope Sister will be back with us soon.