Glanalaw - delighting in pure song

Yesterday I officially moved from Jackson to Clarksville.  I'd been in my new room several days already, but this time was official, because this time I brought the cat. The day started well.  It was my last Sunday at my church in Jackson, which I've attended for four years and which has been a home and a family to me.  I sang, I saw lots of friends, we worshipped - it was great. Packing went fine, too (except I forgot the tea kettle!)  Even getting Conrad into his box was less difficult than usual. But the trip itself was... awful.  Terrible.  Well, it could have been worse: we didn't have a wreck and nobody died.  But nearly everything that could go wrong, did go wrong.  I had a pretty tight schedule to begin with; it's an almost-three hour drive.  I left at noon and had to be at the school (20 minutes from my room) at 4, minus the cat, for choir auditions.  So I was already stressed, knowing I was in a time crunch. Then the ca...

My birthday was last month and my parents gave me a rotary cutter and mat!  I've been wanting one for a long while; especially since I started getting into quilting last year, although I'd thought about them even before that.  I'd put it on my birthday wish list and then put it out of my mind. So when I went home to get my car they surprised me with it!  Last weekend while I was house-sitting I brought the rotary supplies, along with a pile of calicos I plan to turn into a baby quilt.  I did the preliminary cutting into strips, and it was so easy!  The mat has a grid on it; you just square up the fabric along the grid, lay a ruler along the line, and run the wheel along the ruler. Of course one must be careful with one's fingers, since that wheel which cuts merrily through half a dozen layers of fabric would easily do the same thing to any stray appendages.  But with a reasonable amount of caution, it's no more dangerous than using scissors, and FAR q...

It's a funny thing.  I never feel like a move is truly real until the bookshelves are empty.  Maybe it's because I read such a lot, and the books I own are almost like friends.  I can pack the clothes and the dishes and the dvds and still feel that life is pretty normal and the move is not really imminent but only something of the distant future... but when I pack away my books I know it will happen, and soon. My books are all packed.  (Seven boxes of them!)  Most of the clothes are boxed up, and I've got dishes wrapped in newspaper and old shopping bags finding their ways into their crates.  There's still so much more to do, to pack... but the shelves are empty.  It must be real. Conrad has been assisting the packing effort by climbing into boxes, climbing up  empty shelves, and sitting on whatever item I was planning to pick up next. *** Shifting away from the sentimental reflection... I'm moving to Clarksville TN for graduate school...

I made a peanut-butter pie this week.  Not a normal activity, perhaps, for someone who's about to move house.  But then this is not an ordinary pie. Some of you may have heard that the food-blogger Jennifer Perillo lost her husband last week to a sudden, fatal heart attack.  I had only recently begun to follow her blog and was saddened to hear the news.... her post, the night of his death, was devastating.  "He's gone.  And my heart is shattered in a million pieces." Just a few days later, Jennifer posted a beautiful piece about her husband.   Go read it.   She talked about her husband's favourite pie and how she kept meaning to make it for him and putting it off... until it was too late.  She asked people to make this pie "for Mikey", and to share it with loved ones, and remember we never know what may happen tomorrow.  Last Friday, the day of his memorial service, was officially "a pie for Mikey" day, and thousands made that pie ...

I am so profoundly tired.  Two of my very best friends were married (to each other!) last night... I was a bridesmaid and sort of acting maid of honor, since Shannon had her brother as her "honor attendant", and he clearly did not perform most of the usual maid of honor duties.  I discovered that the problem with being efficient and knowledgeable is that people start figuring that out and asking you about  everything .  Result: many more mad dashes to find things/take messages/give orders.  In high heels.  But one bachelorette party, one decorating party, one rehearsal, one rehearsal dinner, one wedding, one reception, and countless  trips between church and reception hall, sanctuary and dressing area, up and down numberless flights of stairs in stiletto heels.... they are married.  I am so happy for them! And I am so tired. Pictures to come eventually (including of my dress, which I made), but I forgot to take my camera and didn't have a...