So Lynn (of Violins and Starships - now on its second version, back over on Blogspot) sent me a message last week: hey, we're going to be passing through your area, want to meet up?
Eventually, a time and a place was set (I was more comfortable given that I had cleaned my house - it's still cluttery and definitely not magazine-ready, but at least I felt like there weren't any dust bunnies rolling around or evidence of bacterial infestation anywhere).
It's funny to me how much, for someone who considers themselves "awkward," that I have relative ease and comfort (and can seem, at least, not-awkward) talking with people I kind of sort of feel like I "know"
(I hope I didn't dominate the conversation too much; sometimes I don't have a lot of people to talk to and I find myself going overboard, I also have hard times with the pauses in conversations and I want to fill them)
This raises the number of people I've met in person to three - well, five if you count spouses (Ken, with Diann, and Roger, with Lynn). It's interesting. I know some people don't enjoy it because they're afraid of being awkward or they're afraid of "destroying the mystery" but I kind of enjoy it.
We met at my house - normally I am kind of uncomfortable having people in (it's cluttery, I have too many books and too much weird stuff around) but I figured it was the easiest way to go. (Also, they were earlier than they said they'd be; I was just about to hop online to see if I had any message updates on an ETA when I saw them pull up).
We talked for a while and then ran down to Roma's for lunch. No wait for a table but wait for the food (I forgot that service on Sunday tends to be....slow). They bought me lunch :) And I have half a serving of lasagna left over for dinner tomorrow night before I have to run out to CWF.
Pictures were taken; Lynn may post them on her blog, I don't know.
It was fun to meet them and I hope it was a good break for them in the long drive between Texas and home.
So that was good. Less of a lonely weekend for me than some are.
***
I have a feeling the Triduum may be trying for me this year. Lent has felt like a long slog; it seems like the ugliness in the world has got magnified. I don't talk politics much on here but the whole Syria thing - I don't really know that there is a good response to the government gassing its citizens; certainly "stern condemnations" don't seem to change anything.
(The UN is, perhaps, in some ways, like Miss Shields in "A Christmas Story" - telling the wrong-doers that they feel so very guilty and they know their shame. Might work on schoolkids, but dictators - they don't care.)
And now attacks on Coptic Christians in Egypt. (Both this and the Syria happenings were mentioned in church). There does seem to be little love in the world right now.
We did Palm Sunday as usual this year. The little kids (we've had a few more; I think the new youth leader is making an effort to bring some of the kids in her neighborhood who don't go to church) walked in with palm branches and we sang Hosanna, Loud Hosanna (the Ellacombe version - I think there are others).
And I found myself tearing up. Why? I don't know. It's hard to explain some times. I think part of it is I remember myself at that age, doing that kind of thing. Part of it may have been the sheer familiarity of the hymn - it's one I can sing without even looking at the hymnal, I know it that well, and somehow that familiarity is comforting to me. Part of it was out of a sense of something like relief that even with all the ugliness in the world there are still little kids who seem awed and happy to be waving palm branches. Perhaps, I don't know....thinking ahead to the moments of this week that are historical (at least to my faith tradition). I can't always explain when I nearly-cry over things why. Part of it may have been relief that we've nearly made it to Easter, though the only way out of Lent is through the Triduum....
I told myself sternly, "You're at the table this morning; you will have to keep it together during the prayer" (Some years back, I was serving at, I think it was Maundy Thursday service - and I just started crying during the prayer I was doing. It was *bizarre* - it was one of those things where it almost felt like the emotion grabbed me from the outside or something. I'm sure part of it was it was a Thursday evening - Thursdays have always been hard days for me - and also it was right after the spouse of a colleague - someone I had worked with on occasion on some things - died very suddenly and young, of a congenital heart problem no one knew he had. But I remember how much the tears shocked me because of how sudden they were). I did this morning but wound up cutting the prayer a bit shorter than I intended just in case.
I will also be at the table at Maundy Thursday this year; I hope I can manage. I know no one would think less of me but I still don't like showing emotion like that publicly.
This week is going to be challenging because I have three nights when I have to be out in the evening. I am telling myself I can have Good Friday entirely off (if I get the experiment broken down successfully on Tuesday) if I need it.
***
ETA: A couple quick photos. I took Waverunner out into the sun to try to capture her magenta streak. (it fades FAST after she's out of the sun - even trying to stand her in the tree with shade on her led to it fading)
so here it is. Subtle, but it's there:
Also, my irises finally bloomed. They are what I think of as "the most disappointing color of iris," in other words, pale yellow. I need to get some purple ones to mix in at some point (and divide these, they've gotten too leggy and some have stopped flowering as a result.
2 comments:
I had fun. I always worry that I will be awkward and that I won't have anything to say, or worse, that I'll say something dumb but I was surprised I felt completely comfortable.
I haven't had a proper yellow iris in years. (All the ones that have shown so far this spring were Appliance White.)
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