I'm taking a quick break from putting the bulletin together on this blustery, wow-winter-really-is-here day. (it's cold and bitter and not at all what we've become accustomed to)
I'm not used to being here in the manse at this time of day anymore - it's light and bright and the school bus drops off kids right off on the corner. There's a lot going on!
(The parents have decided to take their munchkins in warm cars - no homeward strolling in this wind today.)
But yes, I haven't been here in the middle of the day in awhile and I can hear the church bells and they're lovely and pealing out over the wind and still joyfully ringing out
It must be a wedding. Except who gets married on a Thursday at three pm? That must be a coooold wedding party. I started to feel sorry for the bride in her white dress, resolutely setting her teeth against the shivers that wanted to crawl up her spine and worry her knees, the groom, wishing he had a wool waistcoat instead of just a cummerbund, the flowergirl pulling at her skirts and sitting down to protect her ankles.
And then I remembered that the minister here is an avid gardener who loves windchimes.
*Why so worried, sisters why? (Look it up, it's pretty. And kind of grim.But pretty, like the windchimes here)