Two years down the road ...

Today has been insanely full, and I'm crazily tired - but it's been worth it. It began with a visit to Holy Trinity church of Bishop Keith (I've had quite a glut of bishops this week) and the singing of three hymns and the liturgy setting (John Rutter, if you're interested - our Lenten setting) as well as my solo during the communion. Then Himself and I dashed off home to revive ourselves with coffee and have a speedy lunch (if you can call a slice of bread with hummus lunch - oh, and half a banana!) all ready to go out again at 2pm.

This was for the first concert (as opposed to a carol service) for our choir 8+1 since before the pandemic. We were singing in the historic Kilmun church, to which I referred on Tuesday, the first in a series of concerts publicising and supporting its recent reincarnation as a heritage centre. The eagle-eyed will spot that there were actually 7 singers today - one of our tenors was away walking the West Highland Way on a pre-arranged holiday - but we sang as well as we've ever sung and felt buoyed up by the music and the reception - performers need applause! We all took it in turn to introduce a song or a set of songs, which meant (a) Himself didn't have to do all that while preparing for the next piece and (b) the audience had a variety of voices to listen too. Oh, and there's a (c) - we all had a bit of fun doing it.

By the time we came home the day had turned bleak and drizzling - and cold. I cooked a mini triple roast joint that we'd had in the freezer in case of another lockdown Christmas, along with roast potatoes and roasted carrots with cumin and nigella seeds. We opened a bottle of red wine. And we've both since been sleeping for hours over the telly. It's time to stop.

We're having a couple of weeks' break from rehearsals, but Holy Week is ahead and I have a sermon to write. Maybe I'll stop feeling so stretched soon ...