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Definitely one of the oddest Christmas Eve-Day combos I've had in a very long time.
Okay, so I'm noting stuff that happened for my own records. If anybody is brave enough to click past the cut, well ... enter at your own risk of reading lots and lots aaaaaaand lots.
Christmas Eve in the morning was very relaxed. I'd already decided that exerting myself would be very stupid, so hadn't planned to go out during the day. I had a very yummy brekkie, Salisbury steak, that always satisfies.
Because I'd eaten brekkie so late, I didn't bother with lunch. Besides a couple of apples, I had a granola bar and packed a couple away in my red felt bag along with my piggy stowaway for the evening, namely L'il Giggly Ballerina Piggly.
I took a chance and had a 1-hour lie-down from 3 until 4. I definitely could not afford to fall asleep for realz (especially as I still haven't put the real alarm clock where I need it to be). After that, I began to get ready. I love sliding on freshly-washed leggings because the air-dried cotton-lycra is so stiff (rather than soft). Yes, of course I know I'm strange. Even though it was a titch cold out, I decided to wear my maryjanes (and polished them), but over medium-thick woolly socks. Then came all the layers: black calf-length tunic, black sparkly top, low-cut ivory black-slashed top, wool jacket. I didn't have to do my hair or put any product in it because I was wearing my black fur-trimmed hat.
As I'd mentioned, it was a good thing I checked what last year's jewellery had been. Okay, no sunburst diamanté pin with matching earrings. I'd originally thought of wearing my real pearls, but am glad I changed my mind. Instead I wore the art-deco opal pin with matching earrings and – at the last moment – threw on a tennis bracelet. I'd transferred only the necessities into my smaller red Parisian purse.
I didn't decorate the walker this year. Well, the battery-powered LED light strings Brian had given me last year had exhausted the batteries in a single evening. What?!?!? Not very cost-effective. Also, no Christmas deccies on it either because, even though BD and I were being picked up in a minivan, John was driving us home which would mean folding up the walker and putting it in the back seat.
When I was ready to leave, I dropped in at the super's first, then went downstairs. I was expecting the minivan at 7, but the driver was a few minutes early. BD was already in it. Yay. All the traffic was heading out of town, so we had an easy ride in, except when we reached the business district. Even so, we arrived at Roy Thompson Hall around 7:15, I believe.
Of course we were like the first ones there. Instead of waiting for someone to tell us what to do, I just took charge. Yay for me. Last year we'd used a long table and there were several stacked against the wall we'd used last year. But they were a pain, so I decided to commandeer two small round tables, one for each of us. I used my walker as a chair and dragged a chair over for BD. Okay, we are now set. Well, we still needed to get the registration sheets, the "official" volunteer name tags, prayer cards and breath mints.
The volunteer co-ordinator showed up soon and then we were set to go. Imagine my shock when a familiar face I hadn't seen for years showed up. It was one of the two nannies the church had had (the other one unfortunately died of cancer) but this one had stopped coming down because it was simply too difficult to get to the church by transit from where she lived on a Sunday morning. You see, in Toronto, the subway opens at 6 every day except for 9 on Sunday. If you have to be somewhere early Sunday morning, you're stuck with a much slower bus or streetcar on a reduced schedule. Not fun, especially during winter. Anyway, F was delighted to see me. She looked stunning, wearing a red sequinned top. Even though she's a grandmother (not that that means anything nowadays), she wanted to be dressed up for the kids. And, I guess, for herself too.
Since we hadn't seen each other for years, she was stunned by all of the (mostly bad) changes in my life. Still, she mentioned that I looked wonderful and it was a testament to my resiliance that I could still smile. She hoped that nothing but good would be forthcoming for me in 2012. Hey, I can definitely say "Amen" to that.
As I still have her telephone number in my speed-dial, I will definitely call her. It would be terrific to get together with her, when the weather gets warmer again. What with the geographic distance between us, it doesn't make sense to make travel plans now. But I'm just thrilled the church called her back to look after the kids for this one evening. I also met the Sunday school (we call it Children's Church) teacher, as we'd never been introduced.
Before more people showed up, I managed to eat my two other granola bars. The church provided bottled water, so I snagged a couple of those, too.
Then things started to speed up with more people needing to be registered. It was lovely to see the "headliner" of the evening (though she was still wearing her grubbies). Finally, we were finished. But, then, I had one of my precious moments with Brent backstage, as I call it. He was getting ready to go out into the lobby where he does greet people for a short while before the service starts. But we talked for a wee bit and he was so unguarded. I still think that special e-mail I sent him a few weeks ago did wonders for our relationship.
Then it was back to getting up to the lobby. BD and I found the elevator and went up, then walked in circles (okay, I'm kidding; it's just that RTH is a circle and you can walk the entire outer ring and get quite dizzy). But we finally found our section. We asked the volunteer for our section if she could come serve us communion at our seats instead of us having to struggle with steps. She agreed. Then the official RTH usher confiscated my walker after affixing an airline-style tag to it.
Finally, finally, finally, we were in our seats and could relax. I fiddled around with my monocular, trying to see as much of the stage as clearly as possible. Hmmm. Not that clear, even at its most extreme position. ::sighs:: That means a further degradation. The evening's activities began at 10:30. There was so much amazing music. The special choir had at least 100 people in it. Also a brass group, our resident genius music director at the grand piano, our organist, our regular drummer, sax player and recorder player (aka Brent's husband John), and a few other instrumentalists (I could only see the double-bass player).
I loved our seats (I'd chosen the same ones as last year). It's the first proper mezzanine section next to the choir loft, basically looking down from the right side perpendicular to the stage. There were only three rows on our side and we were in the third row. When I used to attend as a ticket-buying spectator, I'd sit in the first row, bejewelled hand trailing over the railing, dontcha know. Okay, okay, I'll stop being superficial. Mostly.
Back to the content. First the brass group, next the choir along with the handbells (that haven't been a part of the service for many years). Next the Story of the Angels (read by two adult men and a young girl). Finally, it was our turn to sing Angels We Have Heard On High. I didn't know it at the time, but that was it basically for my singing voice for the evening. I belted out the Gloria in excelsis Deo! lines. But the music director was very sneaky. She kept raising the pitch by half-tones, meaning I was unable to hit the (semi) night notes. Alas. Then came Brent's official welcome. Okay, I've already got tears in my eyes. It meant so much for me to be there with my church family and to be sitting (and volunteering) together with BD.
There were many amazing parts to the service. Brent's sermon was entitled "Angels Among Us" capping off his Angels sermon series during Advent. As predicted, I was unable to sing anything but did semi-croak my way through the pre-Consecration Holy, Holy, Holy. After the official Benediction came the huge wrap-up by our guest singer, Julie Michals, a regular at church. Wow! No longer in grubbies, but a stunning strapless black gown with gloves up to there. She sang a mashup of Get Together and Connected (the latter is the song from the 2010 Vancouver Olympic games). And then it was 11:57 and ::wails:: over for yet another year.
BD and I went out into the lobby where we made our way around to where the main doors are. Brent was coming by so we each got a hug. Then that mischief-maker just had to add a comment, that BD and I made a good-looking couple. ::shrieks in mock outrage:: Sheesh! Brent!!! After that, he flitted off to hug and greet more people. As did we, until John showed up and a whole bunch of us crammed into an elevator. One of my oldest friends sorta-kinda-mock insulted me. I glared at him and said, "I know where you worship on Sunday mornings."
Anyway, yay for getting home even though it meant the end of a wonderful evening. I wished my church family brothers a Merry Christmas. It was 12:45. When I came in, I stayed up for a while to unwind. I had some water and leftover chocolate. I didn't go to sleep until 2:30 but fell asleep like an angel along with the piggies and the lit tree and garland.
Okay, so I'm noting stuff that happened for my own records. If anybody is brave enough to click past the cut, well ... enter at your own risk of reading lots and lots aaaaaaand lots.
Christmas Eve in the morning was very relaxed. I'd already decided that exerting myself would be very stupid, so hadn't planned to go out during the day. I had a very yummy brekkie, Salisbury steak, that always satisfies.
Because I'd eaten brekkie so late, I didn't bother with lunch. Besides a couple of apples, I had a granola bar and packed a couple away in my red felt bag along with my piggy stowaway for the evening, namely L'il Giggly Ballerina Piggly.
I took a chance and had a 1-hour lie-down from 3 until 4. I definitely could not afford to fall asleep for realz (especially as I still haven't put the real alarm clock where I need it to be). After that, I began to get ready. I love sliding on freshly-washed leggings because the air-dried cotton-lycra is so stiff (rather than soft). Yes, of course I know I'm strange. Even though it was a titch cold out, I decided to wear my maryjanes (and polished them), but over medium-thick woolly socks. Then came all the layers: black calf-length tunic, black sparkly top, low-cut ivory black-slashed top, wool jacket. I didn't have to do my hair or put any product in it because I was wearing my black fur-trimmed hat.
As I'd mentioned, it was a good thing I checked what last year's jewellery had been. Okay, no sunburst diamanté pin with matching earrings. I'd originally thought of wearing my real pearls, but am glad I changed my mind. Instead I wore the art-deco opal pin with matching earrings and – at the last moment – threw on a tennis bracelet. I'd transferred only the necessities into my smaller red Parisian purse.
I didn't decorate the walker this year. Well, the battery-powered LED light strings Brian had given me last year had exhausted the batteries in a single evening. What?!?!? Not very cost-effective. Also, no Christmas deccies on it either because, even though BD and I were being picked up in a minivan, John was driving us home which would mean folding up the walker and putting it in the back seat.
When I was ready to leave, I dropped in at the super's first, then went downstairs. I was expecting the minivan at 7, but the driver was a few minutes early. BD was already in it. Yay. All the traffic was heading out of town, so we had an easy ride in, except when we reached the business district. Even so, we arrived at Roy Thompson Hall around 7:15, I believe.
Of course we were like the first ones there. Instead of waiting for someone to tell us what to do, I just took charge. Yay for me. Last year we'd used a long table and there were several stacked against the wall we'd used last year. But they were a pain, so I decided to commandeer two small round tables, one for each of us. I used my walker as a chair and dragged a chair over for BD. Okay, we are now set. Well, we still needed to get the registration sheets, the "official" volunteer name tags, prayer cards and breath mints.
The volunteer co-ordinator showed up soon and then we were set to go. Imagine my shock when a familiar face I hadn't seen for years showed up. It was one of the two nannies the church had had (the other one unfortunately died of cancer) but this one had stopped coming down because it was simply too difficult to get to the church by transit from where she lived on a Sunday morning. You see, in Toronto, the subway opens at 6 every day except for 9 on Sunday. If you have to be somewhere early Sunday morning, you're stuck with a much slower bus or streetcar on a reduced schedule. Not fun, especially during winter. Anyway, F was delighted to see me. She looked stunning, wearing a red sequinned top. Even though she's a grandmother (not that that means anything nowadays), she wanted to be dressed up for the kids. And, I guess, for herself too.
Since we hadn't seen each other for years, she was stunned by all of the (mostly bad) changes in my life. Still, she mentioned that I looked wonderful and it was a testament to my resiliance that I could still smile. She hoped that nothing but good would be forthcoming for me in 2012. Hey, I can definitely say "Amen" to that.
As I still have her telephone number in my speed-dial, I will definitely call her. It would be terrific to get together with her, when the weather gets warmer again. What with the geographic distance between us, it doesn't make sense to make travel plans now. But I'm just thrilled the church called her back to look after the kids for this one evening. I also met the Sunday school (we call it Children's Church) teacher, as we'd never been introduced.
Before more people showed up, I managed to eat my two other granola bars. The church provided bottled water, so I snagged a couple of those, too.
Then things started to speed up with more people needing to be registered. It was lovely to see the "headliner" of the evening (though she was still wearing her grubbies). Finally, we were finished. But, then, I had one of my precious moments with Brent backstage, as I call it. He was getting ready to go out into the lobby where he does greet people for a short while before the service starts. But we talked for a wee bit and he was so unguarded. I still think that special e-mail I sent him a few weeks ago did wonders for our relationship.
Then it was back to getting up to the lobby. BD and I found the elevator and went up, then walked in circles (okay, I'm kidding; it's just that RTH is a circle and you can walk the entire outer ring and get quite dizzy). But we finally found our section. We asked the volunteer for our section if she could come serve us communion at our seats instead of us having to struggle with steps. She agreed. Then the official RTH usher confiscated my walker after affixing an airline-style tag to it.
Finally, finally, finally, we were in our seats and could relax. I fiddled around with my monocular, trying to see as much of the stage as clearly as possible. Hmmm. Not that clear, even at its most extreme position. ::sighs:: That means a further degradation. The evening's activities began at 10:30. There was so much amazing music. The special choir had at least 100 people in it. Also a brass group, our resident genius music director at the grand piano, our organist, our regular drummer, sax player and recorder player (aka Brent's husband John), and a few other instrumentalists (I could only see the double-bass player).
I loved our seats (I'd chosen the same ones as last year). It's the first proper mezzanine section next to the choir loft, basically looking down from the right side perpendicular to the stage. There were only three rows on our side and we were in the third row. When I used to attend as a ticket-buying spectator, I'd sit in the first row, bejewelled hand trailing over the railing, dontcha know. Okay, okay, I'll stop being superficial. Mostly.
Back to the content. First the brass group, next the choir along with the handbells (that haven't been a part of the service for many years). Next the Story of the Angels (read by two adult men and a young girl). Finally, it was our turn to sing Angels We Have Heard On High. I didn't know it at the time, but that was it basically for my singing voice for the evening. I belted out the Gloria in excelsis Deo! lines. But the music director was very sneaky. She kept raising the pitch by half-tones, meaning I was unable to hit the (semi) night notes. Alas. Then came Brent's official welcome. Okay, I've already got tears in my eyes. It meant so much for me to be there with my church family and to be sitting (and volunteering) together with BD.
There were many amazing parts to the service. Brent's sermon was entitled "Angels Among Us" capping off his Angels sermon series during Advent. As predicted, I was unable to sing anything but did semi-croak my way through the pre-Consecration Holy, Holy, Holy. After the official Benediction came the huge wrap-up by our guest singer, Julie Michals, a regular at church. Wow! No longer in grubbies, but a stunning strapless black gown with gloves up to there. She sang a mashup of Get Together and Connected (the latter is the song from the 2010 Vancouver Olympic games). And then it was 11:57 and ::wails:: over for yet another year.
BD and I went out into the lobby where we made our way around to where the main doors are. Brent was coming by so we each got a hug. Then that mischief-maker just had to add a comment, that BD and I made a good-looking couple. ::shrieks in mock outrage:: Sheesh! Brent!!! After that, he flitted off to hug and greet more people. As did we, until John showed up and a whole bunch of us crammed into an elevator. One of my oldest friends sorta-kinda-mock insulted me. I glared at him and said, "I know where you worship on Sunday mornings."
Anyway, yay for getting home even though it meant the end of a wonderful evening. I wished my church family brothers a Merry Christmas. It was 12:45. When I came in, I stayed up for a while to unwind. I had some water and leftover chocolate. I didn't go to sleep until 2:30 but fell asleep like an angel along with the piggies and the lit tree and garland.
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