1881--present
Nov. 12th, 2006 09:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gurdonarkToday I had a quiet day. My Weight Watchers weigh-in contained a rather surprising setback. I suppose that setbacks serve a valuable function as reminders, remonstrance and realignment. Actually, I don't know what purposes setbacks serve, but I wanted them to serve some alliterative function.
Tonight the Methodist church we joined last Sunday held its 125th anniversary service. We gathered with the people we know from Sunday school at a table to eat chicken, which I hate to alter a good bit, skin-wise, to make it conform to my eating plan. A quartet sang "Daisy Bell", which was the kind of song we sang while car-riding when I was a boy.
One of the visiting ministers from elsewhere who attended the service appears on a videocassette lesson my class views each Sunday. It's always interesting when people morph from celluloid heroes to real-live people. The minister in question looks good on video, but rather nicer in person, which is, I suppose, the sort of thing that she'd perhaps enjoy knowing but which instead is merely one more weblog fact cast out into the void of cyberspace. My wife and I sat beside the mayor and his wife, whom we do not know, and yet, for me, despite the potential opportunity of proximity, he is rather more someone that I see on the local public access television than someone I know at all.
The lightning flashed as we drove home, too late to see Jane Tennison properly grill any prime suspects on television.
Tonight the Methodist church we joined last Sunday held its 125th anniversary service. We gathered with the people we know from Sunday school at a table to eat chicken, which I hate to alter a good bit, skin-wise, to make it conform to my eating plan. A quartet sang "Daisy Bell", which was the kind of song we sang while car-riding when I was a boy.
One of the visiting ministers from elsewhere who attended the service appears on a videocassette lesson my class views each Sunday. It's always interesting when people morph from celluloid heroes to real-live people. The minister in question looks good on video, but rather nicer in person, which is, I suppose, the sort of thing that she'd perhaps enjoy knowing but which instead is merely one more weblog fact cast out into the void of cyberspace. My wife and I sat beside the mayor and his wife, whom we do not know, and yet, for me, despite the potential opportunity of proximity, he is rather more someone that I see on the local public access television than someone I know at all.
The lightning flashed as we drove home, too late to see Jane Tennison properly grill any prime suspects on television.
