Monthly Archives: March 2008

Easter – after

And after all that it wasn’t really too bad. After several agitated texts from Mr M (whose credit was running out) ‘Little’ Miff and I managed to find where he’d hidden our Easter eggs. And Little got up for his Easter bunny hunt (now limited to the top landing on account of cat and dog) if not at crack of dawn, but before lunch at least.

Ms Miff arrived safely in New York to do her tourist college bit, and we expect her back later in the week before my birthday.

Churchwise – Much better than I’d thought. I was tickled to read in the visitors’ book this morning – ‘The heating is working again. Hallelujah!’ Hallelujah indeed! Thought I gather it didn’t do the organ much good; the latter having managed to accustom itself to the freezing temperatures we’ve all been suffering through during Lent.

Still it’s fixed; that’s the main thing. And long may it last. Just in time for Good Friday as well – rendering my rush to M and S’s thermal undies department unecessary. Still, I have my complete black ensemble now. I only ever wear black from head to toe for choir and as I’m only an occasional singer, this lot should last me for years. I enjoyed (in as much as one can enjoy) Faure’s Requiem -although as we returned our scores directly afterwards I do hope somebody though to remove the pencil markings before returning them to the library. If not, come next Easter, some poor person is going to be puzzling the theological significance of the instructions to do a ‘post-natal clench!’ at the high point of the Sanctus. (My interpretation of our conductor’s directions to we more inexperienced sopranos to prevent our ‘Hosannas’ sounding more like umpteen balloons deflating than a pean of praise to the Almighty.) It works, as well.

And talking of balloons, at the last count, there were still eleven helium balloons left over from Easter morning, nestling up in the church rafters. Rather pretty, I thought.

Easter – almost

I’m wondering what to wear into church tomorrow. This must be the first Easter in known history that we’ve had snow. O.K – flurries, not exactly worth calling the snowploughs out for, but you know the U.K – one flake and the newspapers announce gridlock – as I explained to one of Ms Miffy’s friends over visiting from the States.

It’s also a bit of an odd Easter from the family POV, as there’s only myself and little Miff in residence at the moment. Mr M flew to France earlier today for a cycling trip. Ms M and friend paid a flying visit on Thursday – left us a lovely homemade Simnel cake, and hopped back up to London prior to leaving for the States tomorrow. Ms M intends to spend the time – or some of it – trawling round the various colleges, having had such a good time during her term at FIT last year, that she’s considering doing her masters out there.

Our area is one that’s separating Easter from the school holidays as well. A good thing in a way for those in our church schools as it gives them a god given opportunity to focus on Easter that they wouldn’t have had otherwise (we still have nearly a fortnight of term to run yet).

My niggle is more personal; one of those self-pitying niggles that from experience are best acknowledged but then stopped from taking over the shop. Easter’s one of those strange festivals for me, given that I’m the only practising Christian in our household. The religious side means absolutely nothing to the rest of the family. So on the one hand you have the build-up over Lent, the excitement and anticipation of Easter Day – He Is Risen – and I’ll come home after the morning service and …. Paradoxically, because the festival has been far less secularised than Christmas – it’s not nearly such a big deal if you’re not aware of the message behind the season.

On the other hand – It’s great not having to get up at crack of dawn for four days!

So, gripe over. Somebody over on my other blog was asking after me as I haven’t been updating much these days. It wasn’t intentional to go blog lite over Lent; it just happened – due to my usual mix of inertia and angst! I’m reading Jack, Tractor Girl and Fineline’s thought on vocation with interest, as vocation – questions about and discernment of, have been looming large lately. Lent’s been a weird mixture of progress and stuckness, as I’ve taken so many steps forward, then so many back – interspersed with several episodes of tripping over my metaphorical shoelaces. One of these ‘blips’ has been hanging over me for whole of Lent: the proverbial slap in the face or slamming door on something that I’d (probably mistakenly) really hoped might be a small step toward something bigger. Resolving it isn’t going to happen without other peoples’ input which hopefully, I may get over the next couple of weeks.

That I’ve not let all this pull me down as I once might have done is a good sign, I think. Whilst some matters have had to be put on hold for reasons outside my own immediate control, others haven’t. Some ‘strands’ that have been around for a long time, but which I’d neglected have come to the fore. And with these, when I’ve gone in for the proverbial door pushing, said door has actually started to open. Which has got me thinking now. Can this be held within the framework of my ‘Seabirding?’ Can the other matters which I’ve been puzzling about?

I think too much…I think!