I love the colors of autumn. But I cannot wear them well (at least not without looking like I belong on a slab at the morgue), but I can sneak them in with the dark reds and blues, can’t I? And knit them into socks, heh, heh, heh…… and that’s the other thing I’ve been doing this morning – found a nice pattern out of that Vogue Knitting book on socks and I’ve been going at it with three double points. A simple pattern that is just so much fun for a no-pressure Saturday.
Tomorrow is a different story – singing in the choir for the late service, then we’re headed over to the Cathedral to practice with two other church choirs – the Cathedral and St. Bartholomew’s both of Baltimore – to get ready for this Friday’s Evensong service at the Cathedral. They are very kindly serving us lunch before we practice (hope they let us brush our teeth before we breathe on the poor conductor, LOL!) The pieces are beautiful and haunting. They ought to be. The service is a memoriam to children who have died as a result of abuse.
I’m sorry for the “language.” This is a painful reminder of a little guy and his baby brother who died at the hands of their mother (at least they could prove the older one died at her hands). They were our clients. And there will never be a day that I don’t wonder what we could have done differently. I can’t say more about it or one could figure out who they were. Let’s just say the mere mention of them makes me freeze up inside to the point of physical pain in the gut. I know in a way they were spared the evils of this world, but that is very very poor comfort. In fact, none at all.
So, I’m going about my business today. I’m getting my hair cut, I’m knitting, I’m enjoying my family. But their father doesn’t get to enjoy his. And that will always be a dent in my soul. I cannot imagine what it is to his.