A Cold and Rainy Wretched Day

I remember my grandmother using this phrase…”a cold and rainy wretched day” and I know she was quoting something, but I don’t know what…Googling the phrase didn’t give me anything in the first page of results, and I’m not in the mood to dig.

Actually, the day wasn’t at all wretched, but it was cold and rainy. We went to church where Father Young led an ‘instructed service’ rather than the usual Rite I with Music structure they usually follow at 10 AM mass. As someone just beginning her spiritual journey, I found it interesting. The best way I can explain it is as a live version of an annotated work. Specifically, at each stage of the service and the mass, Fr. Young would pause, and explain the structure, the history, the tradition, the symbolism. I love the way he uses light humor when he speaks – he’s quite warm and engaging, really – but I have to comment that the way he says the word ‘flesh’ is a bit creepy. It’s as if he’s tasting the word, the substance, as he wraps his mouth around the sound.

Fuzzy, good Baptist boy that he is, seems to be less comfortable than I am. He doesn’t like the structure, or the stand/sit/kneel combination that I used to refer to as “Catholic Calisthenics,” until I learned that the Episcopalians (which is what denomination St. Andrew’s is) practice the same tradition. I don’t mind it – kneeling is actually an excellent way to release the muscles of the lower back – and it breaks the time up a bit. After a call with his mother tonight, he commented that Baptist ceremonies are much less rigid, with regard to lessons and sermons. I’m not certain that’s true. I suspect that part of that is his perception, and part of it is that the language of the Episcopalian and Catholic services is still less than modern. I’ve told him I’m willing to check out the local Baptist churches to compare (and I am, from an educational POV, if nothing else), but he never wants to. I wonder if he’s declining because he really doesn’t want to, or because he knows I feel really out of place in Baptist churches, as my entire experience with them has been laced with negative responses – politics from the pulpit BOTHER me.

The rest of the day was low-key. We went to lunch at Panera, where I fell in love with the Bistro Steak Salad (only 6 net carbs if you don’t eat the bread, and hey! Walnuts and Bleu Cheese!), and spilled scalding-hot chai all over the table and my leg. Thankfully it was raining, and I’m wearing black, so no one could tell.

We also hit Barnes and Noble, where I bought Stephen King’s On Writing, as well as the 2005 Writer’s Market, and a couple of magazines that I’m thinking of submitting articles to, and therefore wanted to read.

A stop at PetsMart yielded food for the furry members of the family, and a trip to the local Starbucks resulted in a happy MissMeliss, because I am now stocked up on coffee beans. (I keep forgetting I own a coffee grinder, and had them grind them, and I really need to stop doing that.).

The late afternoon was spent here at home. While the rain poured down outside, Fuzzy caught up on all his Tivo’d sci-fi shows, and I skimmed my blogroll. I’m not feeling very much like commenting today, but, if you’re on my roll, you were visited today. I promise.

Since then, we’ve had dinner, and I’ve done an online order for groceries (to be delivered tomorrow), and even though it’s only a bit after nine, I’m tired. No TV tonight, no music. Just a mug of tea and a bit of reading, and then I shall let the falling rain lull me to sleep.