Peaches

Last night at Evensong, our Officiant chanted, "Give us that PEACH which the world cannot give," and I admit that my cantor partner and I had a fit of the giggles.

This is even funnier because on Saturday, my dear friends from home came to visit. They took me to a movie and to dinner at Gio, where I attempted to order my tilapia dish in Italian. My friend, fluent in Italian, gently told me that I had ordered not "Fish in Crazy Water" (Pesce Aqua Pazza), but "Peach in Crazy Water."

Why Blog?

Every once in a while, I wonder why I blog. My time is far too divided in several directions now to even consider long, thoughtful reflections, and I end up roughly at the same place each time: do I blog only fluff? If so, what's the point?

Then, last Thursday following the Seabury Eucharist during which I preached on Alfred the Grape, another blogger identified herself as someone with whom I'd had a few blogger comment exchanges. I even think that hers was the unfamiliar voice from the other side of the room with the gift of beautiful singing. I could tell that we might very well share similar passions. Meeting someone face to face as a result of our blogs gives me one good answer to my question of why I keep this going.

I Want to Go to Ohio!

Boo! Here is where I want to be tomorrow night for some really spooky Bach! Best wishes for the best midnight concert ever, Pumpers!

Just Checking

Here at the seminary, the students all got nametags in our boxes. Mine has my name, then simply the word "Senior." The first thing out of the mouth of one of last year's graduates was, "So, are you checked out yet?"

I was looking for a fitting response. I'm actually not checked out. I'm tired of wise-ass answers to such a question. Later, I related this to an alum from 5 years ago, and he had the most marvelous suggestion for an answer:

"Are you checked in yet?"

A Lesson from Young Musicians

I'm grateful to the thoughtful friend who handed us tickets for Saturday night's Chicago Symphony Orchestra performance of Mahler's 3rd Symphony. It's a long work (110 minutes, no intermission) and featured a phenomenal brass section, guest mezzo-soprano, women's chorus, and 52 members of the Children' Chorus.

The sixth and final movement simply was prayer: hushed, fluid lines. The children don't sing till near the end of the piece, but they sat with hands in their laps, perfectly quiet through several movements, waiting to rise for their first entrance. Watching them taught me again how easily we forget how to be still. Their attentive bodies and the expectation on their faces also were prayer last night.

I think I remember how to be still now. For a little while, at least, may I keep this gift.

Made My Day

Seabury's senior class learned today that Presiding Bishop-elect Katharine Jefferts Schori will serve as our commencement speaker on June 1, 2007. Having been a voting deputy at General Convention when Bishop Jefferts Schori was elected, I'm absolutely delighted to receive this news.

Potatoes

During last Friday's panel discussion on the most recent General Convention, our moderator's reference to "Joe or Jane Pew Potato" really tickled my funny bone. So, I am handing this one over to the best source I know....Archer Comics Classics. Archer?

Hissing, and Why I Wish it Would Stop

The upcoming football game between Seabury and Nashotah House brings with it reminders of some bad behavior on the part of our guests a few years ago. I'm sure that I was amused when a goodly number of Seabury students hissed at the very mention of Nashotah, because I was appalled at Nashotah's behavior and blog entry that followed the now-famous game. I don't like the rigidity and moral superiority, detected in letters from Nashotah's dean, requesting monetary support. Certainly I didn't ever ask to be on their mailing list. But I wish that we would stop hissing at the mention of the school's name. Yes, they're our opponents in a game, and we don't see eye to eye on much of anything as far as I can figure, but it disturbs me when we act so inhospitable -- even if it's just for fun.

O sleep, where art thou?

I need to learn to sleep on the nights before I drive to Barrington. Otherwise, my seminary community will discover that I really am an unbearable, impatient and witchlike grouch who feels like throwing various objects out the window (not very dramatic anymore, now that we're living on the first floor!).

On the Road Again

It seemed like a fine idea to sign on for Field Education at a vibrant parish that's a distance away, but the 2 1/2 hour drive each time I go (on a weekday) turns out to be more complicated than I'd thought. By the time I've avoided close calls due to speeders or drivers talking on cell phones, then gotten into school bus and rush hour traffic, I'm too tense to be of much use to anyone. So, I sit in the church parking lot doing deep breathing exercises and fretting over the hours that might have been used for reading assignments, hours that I cannot get back. Envy comes in too, uninvited, as I think of my friends at parishes in town. I've heard that some of them actually read books lately.

Surely someone has a coping mechanism to share. ?

Worth Celebrating

35 years ago today, John and I had our first date. We ate vichyssoise at an Oberlin Choir dinner with alumni, and he kept me laughing through the entire meal. Never underestimate the healing power and wonder of hearty laughter.

So what are we doing tonight? Um, sitting in Canon Law class...