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We have bitten the bullet and joined our church's Christmas choir. We only have a "real" choir for Christmas and Easter, but it's a serious "real" choir. No cute little hymnal harmony here, nuh-uh. Our director, sweet music teacher Emily, has high standards. Somehow, she actually got pleasing noises out of the five folks who showed up last night. I sure hope more peeples join, because I'm not sure we can do justice to Praetorius and Handel with only five voices. My dad the retired musician will be there, too, with his perfect pitch and all. Hoo boy. I went to the church's women's retreat this weekend, too. Yeah, I know, I'm getting a lot of churching, but the retreat wasn't really, um, reclusive. Friday night we took over the upstairs part of an Irish bar in downtown Fair Port City, and Saturday was spent listening to a hilarious woman talk about the reality of being a modern woman and a Christian. It was nice to hear some realistic, common-sense religious talk for a change. Our church is sorta like that, though. None of this "hide from the world in Christian-media culture" stuff, either. For variety, we planted our first tree. Is that some kind of adult milestone? It's a kwanzan cherry, and Casey helped. (He supervised.) Can't wait until it blooms next spring! Gotta go finish my grades. Eleven days until Harry Potter Skip Day! Woohoo! |
 
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Isn't That Special?