conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

friday carol

Today I will be in the hospital pulling my "vacation shift." It is a holiday at LGH and I have volunteered to work it. We all have to work one a year. It allows everyone else who wishes to take the day off. It will be a full day. I will be responsible for the whole hospital per on-call usual and my unit, the Fourth Floor, will be having a little send-off party for me. I am hoping for a lull in the action around lunch so that I may say my good-byes. I have learned a great deal from them and count many of them as friends. They are all my congregation and I love them as such.

Last night was laundry night. I went to the laundramat, worked on my sermon for Sunday, flirted with the attendant, drank a coke, came home and crashed. Our regular machine is broken, so we have been using a laundramat instead. I actually like it. I can do all five loads at once. Everything comes dry...at once. The trouble is that I have to pack all of it into my little red car. Susie calls it my clown car. I disagree, but must admit that it is small and putting three laundry baskets in it means one gets to wear a seatbelt in the front seat.

Trish has today off from work. I will not be waking her with coffee this morning. Somehow this makes me sad...not that she has the day off but our coffee ritual is to be unfulfilled. I am incomplete. So sad. Tonight we are off to a New Year's Eve Gala with the kids from Rudolph the Redhosed Reindeer. Thsi picture is of her in one of her costumes. Wow. Here is the link to the Handbag blog. The images are down toward the bottom and are not for the easily offended...but what an amazing show!

And finally, our Christmas carol: The Wren Song

The wren, the wren, the king of all birds,
St. Stephen's Day was caught in the furze,
Although he was little his honour was great,
Jump up me lads and give him a treat.

Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
And give us a penny to bury the wren.

As I was going to Killenaule,
I met a wren upon the wall.
I took me stick and knocked him down,
And brought him in to Carrick Town.

Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
And give us a penny to bury the wren.

Droolin, Droolin, where�s your nest?
Tis in the bush that I love best
In the tree the holly tree,
Where all the boys do follow me.

Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
And give us a penny to bury the wren.

We followed the wren three miles or more,
Three mile or more three miles or more.
We followed the wren three miles or more,
At six o�clock in the morning.

Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
And give us a penny to bury the wren.

I have a little box under me arm,
Under me arm under me arm.
I have a little box under me arm,
A penny or tuppence would do it no harm.

Up with the kettle and down with the pan,
And give us a penny to bury the wren.

It is a surreal little tune I learned from the Chieftan's cd, The Bells Of Dublin. It seemed fitting to share after posting Trish's picture. I hope everyone enjoys New Year's Eve. Be safe.

Posted by tripp at December 31, 2004 06:55 AM