Up at 4:30 yesterday, fed myself and Jeff breakfast (bacon scrambled eggs), then fighting with two different printers to get the order of service printed out. Got to church around 9:30, discovered we had a plethora of sound people (after my initial fears) but my karma must have just been to the spot remover, because there wasn’t a single feedback squeal all morning. I hug them all, those sound sound people.
Lots of people out to church and we had a lovely service talking about how it is normal to be afraid of change, and we have had had a lot (as in far too much for this cowgirl), and we’ll be okay, but we have to stick together and be nice to each other. I know, a hopelessly Pollyanna-ish take on events, but accurate, and my goodness people were thankful to have everything brought up to date. We did our absolute best to neither minimize nor dramatize the financial and volunteer crises facing our church. The minister was in the congregation, which provided some reassurance that the board is coping with this crisis as a unit, which never hurts.
It will be okay.
Then I took Sue to lunch at the Amelia, then I bought lemons, then I made lemonade, then I took it to Tom and Peggy (with special guest Joe, squee, whom I haven’t seen since he made his wife so spectacularly rotund) and I watched them pour concrete and then beat a hasty retreat. Then I came back to my place and apart from a half hearted attempt to throw food into the microwave for Jeff, Katie, Keith and Paul (had them all over, heart full of happy) I didn’t do another thing for the rest of the day, oh, except take the awning down with Paul’s help. It was full of insect eggs, so just as well. Either moth or katydid, I’d have to look it up. I looked at the wind and sky and determined it was time to get the awning down before the weather got wetter or windier.
Now, for nautilus3, a flickrset of Birds of BC. I only know about this because Paul found a dead bird and took pictures, and be darned if I can identify it. I may need to call on experts.
Eddie let me cut all his nails and he hardly struggled or wailed, and he made no attempt to bite or scratch. The same cannot be said of Margot, who popped her claws into me the last time I trimmed her. I guess Eddie is finally getting over his antipathy to me. If, and only if, I’m sitting on the downstairs couch and Jeff’s sitting there too, Eddie will let me scritch him. Sometimes.
