So I survived. We had more parishioners than we were expecting for our Christmas Day Sunday Eucharist. Eileen got up and went with me. We were both tired from the night before.
These two pics of me were taken by a parishioner, Eddie Bullinger. I find the second one a bit flattering. Or at least goofy.
I made the first one my profile pic on Facelessbooger because I think it looks more like me or at least me in action.
I toyed with changing the theme on this blog this morning but couldn’t decide on a change. It’s probably one of those post stress times illusions where you think it’s time for a change.
The service went well yesterday morning. I handed out all of the copies I had made of Adam Tice’s new hymn so that some of the congregation had the music. With only about thirty people, it’s sometimes tricky to know how to lead with the organ. Usually this amount of people spread over the room need a fair amount of organ so that people feel comfortable singing. Sometimes with more, I pull back until I can hear that the group has found its own voice and is listening to itself sing.
The trickiest thing yesterday was the psalm. I promised Jen that I would sing along on this. In our meeting, Wednesday, she surprised me with having it in the draft bulletin. She had previously emailed me that it would be better to say it on such a sparsely attended Sunday. She had failed to tell Mary Miller to take it out. She decided to leave it in. So I wanted to be solid on it.
I don’t enjoy singing and playing in church, especially when I’m trying to project so that I can be heard in the room. It feels a little out of control. But I did it and I didn’t miss a beat.So that happened.
The prelude and postlude went well. I did manage to keep my interest by scheduling some charming music. However, I was tired and could feel the effort it took to maintain concentration. Or maybe more accurately, I noticed when my concentration was waning a bit and had to bring my two brain cells back into focus.
After the service, we drove over to say Merry Christmas to Mom and deliver some gifts from Sarah and Matthew.
Then we drove to Whitehall. Eileen drove. I promised to drive home.
It’s always good to see Eileen with her fam these days.
It’s a lot less tense than it used to be.
I was exhausted, but try to keep up my end of conversations and hugged most everybody hello and good-by. Three of the cousins (great nieces) received coloring books for their present from Great Grandma Hatch.
It wasn’t bad. Surprisingly I stayed awake until the end this time. I know one reason I don’t like movies. I invariably weep at the ending no matter what. This ending wasn’t particularly touching, but I was true to form.
My chorister who is also a movie buff gave me pause recently when he said he had never watched “Scrooged.” This makes me wonder how many of my zillions of readers out there recognize my movie references which are admittedly paltry.
Well that about wraps it up for St. Stephen’s day or Boxing Day.