I'm shattered today. Partly as a result of last night, which was fantastic. I did feel very young though - lots of young marrieds. It reminded me how little I want that life. That probably changes, but I really don't want the wedding-photos-and-dinner-parties existence. Dinner parties I could deal with (cooking dinners for close friends is one of my favourite things to do, after all), but less of the sitting around the table sort. Large amounts of good, interesting food and lots of alcohol. Not too many people, and stuff everywhere. Nothing that involves having to swap places every course. The food was fantastic and the company seemed good (a group of friends I'm not part of, but lovely nonetheless), but I need bohemianism. The food needs to be incidental to the company, unless you're with a group of foodies, at which point it's like going to an art gallery and entirely different. I don't know. That all sounds a bit harsh - it was a perfect example of its type, it really was. Just the life it seems to lead to is one with which I don't particularly want to be involved.
I got up this morning and cleaned a lot of kitchen. I failed to go to the eucharist and matins, but my hangover was a little insistent at 9am - considering I left the party still going on downstairs at about 2. I made a cake for a choir member. That particular couple have been so wonderful to me over the last year (they all have, but those two are particular friends), and I find it hard to find ways of repaying some of their kindnesses. I hope a little of that went into the cake. He seemed pleased, anyway.
I'm mostly shattered because we started rehearsing at 3 and sang through, with a brief food break until the service at 6:30. Hard work. It went very well indeed. A little bit stressful, and I would have enjoyed it more if I'd been more awake, but it really was a lovely service. 'Bethlehem Down' was particularly successful, as was Leighton's 'Lully, Lulla' (I'm very jealous of the sop soloist, still. She did it very well, but I LOVE that solo). And there was even a pretty piece by a member of the choir which was worth singing. Blah. Shame. I would have liked to have been awake to really love it, but I was just too tired.
Erk. This has become a diary entry. I did want to stop writing those. I wanted to write about noticing the stars on the way home. My cycle through Chesterton takes me along the riverside for a bit. On the other side, there's fenland for a bit and no buildings for quite a distance. That means it stays quite dark, and it feels like the country. It's really warm at the moment, and I stopped at the river for a second to look at the sky. It's nearly always busy just there - boats and people fishing and things. I need to be there at 2 in the morning or something sometime. Perhaps I'll go walking. It's so peaceful, and I want that. I love being in big, dark places on my own. It's quite a good reason for being early to choir practice - I can go and sit in a pew in the quiet and listen to the sound of a large building empty and dim. I used to go and sit in the pitch black auditorium in the Abbey Theatre when I was early for rehearsals. Nobody there to see you, and space to be.
Twelve Days of Boots: Day 8 by The Pioneer Woman
10 hours ago