Church Day, Church Day
Sunday is church day at our house. Up at 8 to get ready…we had porridge for breakfast–well, the kids did. With all that was going on, I somehow forgot to eat before we left the house.
Sunday School for the boys at 9:30…I skived off Sunday School and went to the lounge for a cup of coffee and a packet of peanut butter sandwich crackers. I couldn’t skip breakfast entirely, as it would be less than good for my tummy to be rumbly during the sermon.
Turned the oldest kid over to his “Church Grandma” at 10:30 and ran down to the choir room to robe up and rehearse. We’re singing “Hallelujah Amen” from Judas Maccabaeus today. I tell you what, Handel was something else entirely! I love these challenging contrapuntal pieces.
Gave Ann my CD of Chess to listen to. Her son (my former college classmate) is in it, but he’s in LA trying to become a successful actor and she’s here — 3000 miles away. And she had no clue what the musical / rock opera was about.
Went to Dixie Cafe for lunch. What a mistake. $20 bucks forked out for food my dog wouldn’t have eaten. Won’t do that again anytime soon. Ghastly waitress, too. One example: I asked for some sour cream, and she brought back the packet (ew) while I was taking the kids to the restroom. Stuck the packet of sour cream down in the pool of greasy gravy on my plate. So there was no way I could open the darn thing when I got back to table. Oh well. The food was vile anyway.
Home for the kids’ naps. I should have been folding laundry, but I got all caught up in reading press clippings about my favorite actor and all of a sudden, naptime was over and it was time to head back to church.
Bell practise at 6:30. I love handbells. I have anywhere from one to four bells to play in any given piece, and we are doing some challenging stuff. My director says that by the time she’s had me in bell choir for a year I will be able to count music. I’ll believe that when it happens. I’ve been taking music in some form or fashion since I was six, and I still can’t handle anything more complexicated than 4/4 or 3/4, and if you start chucking in sixteenth notes you can forget those sigs too.
Practise ran long this evening, so we left late and I decided to get the kids some chicken nuggets for supper. I only had a few dollars left til payday, so I came home to leftover beef bourguignonne. It wasn’t bad, but what I really wanted was a 16 ounce filet steak and some creamed spinach.
Anyway, clean the kitchen, check to see if my eBay customers have paid, do a bit of blogging, and then to bed. I start my new personal schedule tomorrow… with exercise at 5:30 am. I’ll believe that when it happens, too.
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You may have forgotten to eat , but I forgot, well ‘um, yes, I forgot to wear underwear to church one day in the fifth grade. Yikes! Scary day!
My dad always made Sunday dinner, including the gravy. Boy that conjured up some good memories for me. Sunday was a long day at our house. Daddy seared the roast in a large roaster pan and threw some bakers in the oven while mom got all 7 of us girls ready for church. We all wore dresses in those days.
One Sunday, on the way to church I panicked. I forgot to wear underwear. Ha! I don’t think we went back however. Chilly day that day! Breezy! Good Baptists wore dresses, but they wore underwear too!
Sunday nights were filled with conversation, friends always came by. I cooked up leftovers and fed them to my boyfriend like he was the family dog. Seriously though, I would lie in bed, and listen to the hum of my parents conversations with their friends, straining to hear the words. One man in the group had been in a concentration camp (Nazi camp), so his stories facinated me.