she walks in beauty

so, i'm wafting around town. i no longer walk, i waft. skirts flying in the breeze, scarf airborne, my hair pulled out of my face, clutching a stack of books, seems i'm always clutching a stack of books these days.

today the lovely 86 years young 3rd order franciscan/anglican associate gave me a journal.

for the writer

she said. Lord knows i love to have a stockpile of journals on hand. something about journals and pens. i carry two on a good day (pens that is), incase one runs out of ink.

i went to the train to see if i could figure out what tickets i need to buy for tuesday. it's all greek to me. i have no clue. so i'm at the mercy of the train station people and the wise counsel of the pianist who will escort us.

i am wondering what to wear to the city (these things matter a great deal). i can waft around the city, but for my first venture, i better plan on being sporty rather than artsy, i guess. sporty is always a safe bet.

at church this morning, the man in the row behind me sang so well it carried me along. you know, hymns can be ruthless if you don't know the tune and take a left when you shoulda taken a right. but this man's voice, the masculine baritone i guess you'd call it, sounds so fine. i love singing when others actually sing from the diaphram (isn't that word supposed to have a G in it? who knows. i could look it up, but i won't).

there is a lady who shares my name and her voice goes up into the rafters and warbles around. it sounds lovely, i just don't know how she does it. when she walks in late, everyone knows it. i'm still trying to just keep up with all the books and reading we do.

though i opt out of the sermon, finding myself disagreeing with the good father on many occassion, and stricken by poetry that must be writ. or will be writ. are they worth it, who knows. i certainly don't.

i dig the garb they wear for services. the priest matches the altar. it is quite schnazzy. wonder who you have to be to wear one of those big origami hats. and carry that shepherds crook. no hats, no crook at my church (well maybe there are crooks at my church, but not the kind i'm talking about. one line of the hymns we sung today was bring our perjuries to light. i dig the old hymns folks. they don't beat around the bush. they lay it out there). but there is a scepter i've noticed they've begun carrying in. and a cross. i'll have to find out what that is about.

tonight we have a lawn party, they'll feed us well and i'll have to chitchat, but as long as it isn't expected of me regularly, i can handle it on rare occassion. i will bring my book and journal and read if i can (i always do this. my husband used to object, but once, when he forbade me to bring my book to his family thing--we'd only been married two months, i was so utterly BORED, i fell asleep. right there in the middle of the party. head back and everything. what a glorious sight. his cousin rescued me and took me to the beach. always a good call). since then, the journal and book go with, and hubby doesn't mind.

well, i've devoured enough of your time with my ramblings. fare thee well.