January 13, 2016

Waking at the right time–if a little early-- with the right attitude. Maybe the rhythm of this semester is going to be exactly right.
   
I had not mentioned that on Sunday, during the service, I couldn’t sing “Saint Patrick’s Breastplate” because every phrase was suddenly real to me, and I was too full of emotion. The psalm moved me, too, the one about the voice of the Lord splitting the flames of fire and shaking the wilderness.
   
Cocoa at High 5 yesterday. T and W were over in the corner plotting –still-- their glory road to Hollywood, and I was bitterly jealous, though when I asked myself why, I couldn’t answer. The flame of that has passed.
   
Bought a new wren house (it’s a bluebird house, but I get wrens, which is well enough) and saw a wren holding onto the car window, looking in where the house was, as though already anticipating moving in.