Vandyke Brown
Dec. 25th, 2011 03:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
todayiamadaisyYou know how you're getting old when policemen start to look younger? How old must I be now that priests are looking like babies? I went to Midnight Mass with my mother last night, and I swear the priest who took it was only about fifteen. He had notes for his sermon on an iPad and he was very keen on swinging his incense thing about.
We sat with my cousin Jeanette, whose sister was leading the choir. They were good, but a couple of times they announced they were singing, say, 'Silent Night', and we would all dutifully open the hymnal to the relevant page and start singing Verse 1, then Verse 2, then Verse 3, while they skipped 3 and went straight to Verse 4. This was particularly noticeable during the last hymn, 'Joy to the World', when the congregation revolted as one over this wanton verse-skipping and stubbornly kept singing the next verse in the book. While the choir above trilled about the wonders and wonders of his love, we were all singing something about a curse being found. Duelling choirs. It could be the next big thing.
On the way to the service, there were flashes of lightning. No thunder, no rain; just lightning. It kept going all during the Mass, lighting up the stained glass windows. It was still going as I drove home, so much better than the Christmas lights on the houses. Probably a nuisance for anyone driving a flying sleigh pulled by reindeer, though.
This morning, we went for a walk on the beach, did presents and had lunch, and now I am filling in time while the elderly folk have their post-prandial nap. What is Christmas without bad jokes from what I call a bonbon and many of the rest of you call a cracker? Here are the ones in mine:
Where do snowmen go to dance?
To a snowball.
What do you get if you cross a fish and two elephants?
A pair of swimming trunks.
Why did the mechanic sleep under his car?
Because he wanted to wake up oily in the morning.
My photo of the day has been taken, but I think I'll sort the week's photos tomorrow and post them then. Until then, I hope you all have a brilliant day, regardless of how you spend it.
We sat with my cousin Jeanette, whose sister was leading the choir. They were good, but a couple of times they announced they were singing, say, 'Silent Night', and we would all dutifully open the hymnal to the relevant page and start singing Verse 1, then Verse 2, then Verse 3, while they skipped 3 and went straight to Verse 4. This was particularly noticeable during the last hymn, 'Joy to the World', when the congregation revolted as one over this wanton verse-skipping and stubbornly kept singing the next verse in the book. While the choir above trilled about the wonders and wonders of his love, we were all singing something about a curse being found. Duelling choirs. It could be the next big thing.
On the way to the service, there were flashes of lightning. No thunder, no rain; just lightning. It kept going all during the Mass, lighting up the stained glass windows. It was still going as I drove home, so much better than the Christmas lights on the houses. Probably a nuisance for anyone driving a flying sleigh pulled by reindeer, though.
This morning, we went for a walk on the beach, did presents and had lunch, and now I am filling in time while the elderly folk have their post-prandial nap. What is Christmas without bad jokes from what I call a bonbon and many of the rest of you call a cracker? Here are the ones in mine:
Where do snowmen go to dance?
To a snowball.
What do you get if you cross a fish and two elephants?
A pair of swimming trunks.
Why did the mechanic sleep under his car?
Because he wanted to wake up oily in the morning.
My photo of the day has been taken, but I think I'll sort the week's photos tomorrow and post them then. Until then, I hope you all have a brilliant day, regardless of how you spend it.