Here's a first - somebody complimented me on my Sunday outfit: a tasteful combo of flowery blue indian blouse worn with blue linen travel trousers and blue 3/4 sleeve embroidered cardi. Not exactly vintage fashion as with the snap of my late, great (in both senses of the word) Auntie, but still...
In matters devotional, being Anglican, I'm apt to give at least a nod towards the liturgical calendar. Readers of a similar persuasion will be familiar with the associated colours and will know that we've embarked on Ordinary Time (green). If like me, you sometimes find locating the correct lectionary readings like untangling a ball of wool after the cat's been playing with it, you'll welcome this
llooonnnng stretch of well,
ordinariness; Just knit your way from Weeks 1 to 7 as per instructions and all will be well. In my case, with a few dropped stitches as the odd week mysteriously disappears; I've been known to reach Advent several weeks early or still be patiently purl one, plaining one in metaphorical and spiritual leafy green whilst everyone else is preparing for Christmas. It all adds to the excitement. Doesn't take much to amuse me you know.
Going back to church, we've one very elegant older lady in the congregation whose collection of outfits nearly always manage to follow the liturgical colouring. Imagine my disappointment last Sunday when for once, she departed from the usual. What kind of spiritual state do you have to be in to sport a red and blue striped top, may I ask? Her explanation - that she doesn't own a green jacket, sounded a bit feeble to me. Anyway, I was a fine one to talk she said, wearing blue from top to toe!
Anyway, to return to my unexpected 'bouquet,' which had a hint of earwig in amongst the blooms. Somebody else remarked on how stylish and elegant I looked as I went up for communion,
But weren't you absolutely freezing, dear?! Well, yes I was actually, having come over all of a hot flash just before the readings, partly hormonal, partly the after -effects of my half hour walk uphill to church. No, there's no connection whatsoever with the content of the first reading, before you ask. So, off went my coat and by the end of the service my internal heating system was threatening to stage a walkout. You can't win. Never mind, at my age I take my compliments where I can find them.
