It was a day of rest in that I didn't do any work, but it went against me somehow.
(Incidentally, I don't like reading pictureless posts much, but that's what this is. Sorry.)
The day started as Sundays always do. We slept in just a bit too late, rushed to eat and look presentable to the public, and then arrived a bit late for my choir practice. Nothing new there.
After the service the girls and I played air hockey and waited...and waited...and waited...for Yvon to finish up, and I decided that two vehicles are Sundays will be the plan from now on. What I should have been planning was how I was going to get home, eat and get back to the church in time for a concert. I ended up having only 15 minutes to cook and eat.
Whatever. Again, that's nothing new. Just poor planning on my part.
I was looking forward to an afternoon listening to the pipe organ played by a friend from my past. We used to sing together about 10 years ago. During the years since, he has managed to get his doctorate in music from Yale, winning awards and played organs all over the place. And me? I'm still singing in the same choir, and done nothing more academically or musically. That's clearly not my gift.
It is definitely his gift though. I sat with other choral members whom I rarely see and was proud to hear him play with such passion, as if I had something to do with getting him to this point. It was a great concert. And I don't even rank pipe organs high on my instrumental list.
Getting back to my point about the day of rest. I did nothing but sit from 10:00 to 5:30 p.m. yesterday, learning and listening and enjoying myself a great deal.
All while sitting on hard chairs and pews. On the butt that I'd bruised last week skating! Oww!
Days of rest are only good if you don't literally have a pain in the butt!