The Christmas Blog

I'm sitting at my mother's computer in the home of my childhood, peeking through the shrubbery at a light dusting of snow, listening to a Little Shop of Horrors, and thinking warm fuzzy thoughts. Does it get much more idyllic? Well, perhaps it does, but I find myself extremely content at the moment. I wish I had company, but that's how it goes.

This has been a strange Christmas. The life of a liturgical musician is busy this time of year; the services on the 23rd, 24th, and 25th were beautiful. At some point, we may add the Friday service that is historically supposed to come before Christmas. If I really put a lot of time into preparing all this music, it could have been a lot of work; as it is, I usually spend about an hour of preparation per service, placing post-it notes appropriately and running through music. So, really, those days were pretty quiet. Peaceful. Lovely. I'll admit, as I arrived at the Christmas Eve service in the dark, I felt incredibly alone. It hit me like a ton of bricks for a moment or two, but I survived. This was my first Christmas Eve alone, and I'm glad to have escaped with only one blue spell. Some church acquaintances invited me for Christmas brunch before the Christmas day service, which was very nice. It helped stave off my impatience; the minute the service was over, I hit the road to Michigan. I was home in time for home-made soup and presents around the tree. It was a quiet evening, with no sister to brighten the mix, but I loved it. Sometimes I forget how blessed I am to have such a great relationship with my folks. My family is very special to me; I wish everybody had that.

Last night was Broadway night, which explains my choice of soundtrack today. We kicked off the evening with "Suddenly Seymour," and the tone for the night was set. For eleven years now, it has been a biannual tradition to get together with as many friends as are available, willing, and in moderately good voice to sing Broadway tunes around the piano. We sing until we're hoarse, I play until the notes swim before my eyes, and we have an amazing time. These things normally last anywhere from four to six hours. Yes, I admit it freely -- I am a music geek. Don't you wish you were, too?

Boy, did I need this respite! Family, friends, good music, sleep... May your week pass as gently and pleasantly as mine is doing!