With the time change and the later time for our First United Methodist Church service, I rose leisurely at 7. I made coffee and started on the blog. I did have time to read emails and update Quicken with transactions, texts, and calls, which were excellent distractions, but soon, I was back to writing the daily blog.
I managed to make liberal coffee this morning despite the time change, but today, I grabbed Trader Joe’s certified organic and fairly traded ground coffee and poured that into the French Press. It is dark and bitter, reminding you that it is a corporate product. Still, you can taste the Justice and Compassion for the fair trade certification with a hint, even in a corporate product, of Community. Hope is still there for a better world. In this election week, I recommend some liberal in your cup!
I have a banana with Trader Joe’s seasonal pumpkin spice and pecan oatmeal. Breakfast and the coffee quickly disappear. I am writing fast, but Saturday was a busy day, and it takes time to remember, assemble into a narrative, and edit (often undoing Grammarly’s help).
I am preaching today, and the sermon is already printed, paperclipped, and set in Air Volvo’s Biz class seat. I put it there yesterday, so there would be no chance I would show up without it. Air Volvo is low on gas and has a check engine light, and I dreamed about having an accident while driving and missing important meetings. My friends tell me of their dreams of wish fulfillment—incredible; my dreams express my thirty years as a corporate warrior and possible failures–anxiety I hide that manifests in my dreams.
The light loss depression (Jack reminded me it is really known as SAD, Seasonal affective disorder) and the deep sadness (the feeling of loss of control, the wish to just cry and never stop, and to wish to do nothing but be sad) from yesterday is gone. I believe some light, gaming, and various social interactions (plus beer and good food) cured it for now. This is good as today we will name the saints gone before us; this list includes Eric “Elric” Anderson, Susie Wild, and Rev.Dr. Orville and Mrs. Jean Nilson. My grief could overwhelm me, but I have things to do, like being terrified of giving the sermon!
I wear my pride tie, green sweater vest over a dress shirt, gray-blue LL Bean relaxed pants (still size 40 but barely held up by my belt—a size 38 waits for me in the closet, a tangible manifestation of a goal), and black dress shoes. I wear the hat I travel with, the brown wool hat. I am looking for a taller one, which would be in the 1920s style. The one I wear would never have existed back then, but it still looks normal to our modern sensibilities.
Air Volvo got me to the church on time, even with a surprising amount of slow-moving traffic for a Sunday. I had plenty of time and did not mind the 20 mph in 35 mph zones, but I thought it strange. I arrived as the previous church that shared our facilities, Emmaus Church, finished tearing down. Soon, the podium was in place, and I practiced (I had read through the text viewing it on my computer already) without a mic. I was stumbling over the words, and there were many distractions as First United Methodist started to assemble the usual setup for our service. I was in danger of over-preparing, so I stopped, got some coffee, and waited.
I said many good mornings as folks started to steam in. Paraments were reset to white for All Saints Day (observed). Many people, and this did not make it easier for me, told me how excited and interested they were to hear my sermon. Oh my!
Aside: The colored cloths are the paraments in the altar area. Each day has specific colors matching the Christian Calendar (following an arcane process best to be looked up then remembered, here), but some change for events such as All Saints Day; white for today. In Western and Christian settings, white means purity and holiness. In contrast, this would closely match red in Eastern and non-Christian settings, with white representing the absence of color, representing death and grief.
The music is For the Saints, a favorite I can even sing. It puts tears in my eyes. A few moments later, it seems only seconds to me, Seth finishes reading my selected Gospel of John 21: 9-14, and soon he is playing the trumpet for Here Come the Saints with some of the words from Cedarmount Kids version with the first round stanza hinting at Lift Every Voice and Sing and the last saying, ‘When our leaders learn to cry,’ which is perfect, I think, for an election week.
I am up and managed to make only a few mistakes and stumble over only a few words. Despite the fear, I kept it friendly and light. If you would like to see the sermon, it is here. Sorry, the video has some sound issues, but my sermon and benediction are clear.
I joined Anne and Wayne for lunch again at Red Robin, and this time, I bought as they had the last couple of times. Among the topics we talked about at lunch were different types of drinks in New Orleans (NOLA), the source for absinthe (not in my sermon but mentioned in my blog), and what a Sazerac Cocktail (here) contains. We learned that our waiter, Carlson, has a twin brother, and we might meet him for Wayne’s planned birthday dinner at Red Lobster. I was hungry and had the two chicken breasts (these are split breasts–meaning two is just one full one) for the lower calory Ensalda Plater. Soon, we headed out, and I returned home, removed my tie and shoes, and rested for a while.
I chatted with a friend on the phone while watching the sun get down earlier today (time change), returned to the kitchen, and started assembling a Red Seafood Jambalaya according to the recipe, with a few changes from the New Orleans School of Cooking. The recipe does not match what Chef Reneé did in my demo class, and I added just a bit of his improvements: cane sugar (a tiny bit) and shrimp boil liquid (also tiny).
I was unhappy with the flavor or texture, but it strongly hints at NOLA’s versions I had while there. The smokey ham I added and cooked to almost burned was excellent (more bacon than ham). I would go for a brown version with no seafood next time with some tomatoes. I would add a second set of trinity to cook with the rice to add to the texture, one of Chef Reneé changes.
I thought the 4-person size was too small, but it is more than I thought. I will have to send some to Corwin! He will add hot sauce to it and enjoy the smoked NOLA flavors.
I watched the rest of a mediocre Kolchak: The Night Stalker, episode four, “The Vampire.” Indeed, it is interesting to watch Kolchak’s lying and tricking people and his description of Hollywood policing in the 1970s. His narrative (as best as I remember it): “They do things differently here than in Chicago. With two suspects arrested, now the detective is looking for evidence at the crime seen.” I am soon disappointed with the ending, but it does have a twist (no spoilers). I have a comic novel on its way and a new T-shirt on new Kolchak adventures. While it is an acquired taste, I still like the old show.
I head to the shower and soon read in bed. There are More Vampire Cookingbook stories and recipes, including a lamb stew recipe I would like to try. The book is almost done; I have only a few stories left. With Kolchak, NOLA vampires, and the rain pounding outside, I ask Amazon’s Echo to play music to sleep by, as I will likely have dark dreams, and there is no reason to wake to strange noises! But I wake to prove hydration and then later at 4ish to leg and foot cramps, which are solved with hydration! F**k! I woke at 5, no longer in pain, to prove I hydrated. Morning comes too soon.
Thanks for reading.
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