I grew up in the Christian faith, which means that when we get near the two major holidays, I have feelings of extreme nostalgia. Not necessarily for organized religion, but for cultural markers, like candlelight carol services and hymns I sang during my six years in choir. So, as I’m writing this, I’m listening to Enrico Caruso sing Faure’s “The Palms,” to scratch that particular itch. Our church was big enough to support four choirs, and “The Palms” was the only song we sang every year together. I associate it with crowded pews (it was also one of the few Sundays a year when even the balcony seating was packed) and soaring sopranos and being a part of something bigger than myself. It’s the same feeling I get at the ocean and listening to certain harmonies and visiting the Reading Room at the British Library and the Library of Congress. (I assume others have similar feelings when looking at mountains and the stars.)

I mentioned that yesterday I felt a little of the weight that’s been keeping me down lift a little, allowing me to make progress on some long-lingering chores. I also took myself out to lunch down by the river, started a book, did some grocery shopping, and visited the garden.

Today was a less productive day from a housekeeping standpoint, but still relatively pleasant. While early-arriving rain kept me from doing the work in the garden I’d meant to, it did not keep Rudi and me from the farmers market (and Rudi’s presence meant he went and emptied with the compost, while I waited in line to get in). I took a nap, wove in yarn ends on my pair of stripey socks and knit until I started making errors on the other pair, read, chatted with my folks, and watched women’s basketball. I ordered a calendar-year refill for my organizer, and because I put that off for a quarter of a year, it was half off. And the grant that I thought I’d need to spend all the wee hours writing turns out not to have been due this weekend, so after checking my schedule for tomorrow (and seeing a time-sensitive email I’d been waiting for had finally arrived on Saturday), I was able to put that aside and veg out with my book a little longer instead. Now, I’m going to wash today’s dishes, hang up the handknits still soaking in the bathroom sink, and join Rudi in bed.

I hope you had a nice weekend, too. Let’s carry it over to the workweek, okay?