I went to church three times yesterday. I don’t remember if this is some sort of personal record. Probably not. There was probably some Christmas that fell on Sunday where I did two services in the morning and one (or more) at night.
My first service yesterday was at my handbell church. The bells did a good job. We played an arrangement of “Crown Him with Many Crowns”. There is a rhythmic section in the middle that would sometimes fall apart in practice. This time it didn’t.
My second service was at my church. I usually skip going to my church when the handbells play, but I had to go this time because I was the liturgist. Good thing I take notes during the sermon. And had some coffee. It was interesting to see two pastors preaching on the same readings.
My third service was at a retirement/nursing home. My pastor was conducting the afternoon service and had asked the choir to come along. We sang two pieces. One was an all-male piece that I sang the melody for. It was freaky high. Thankfully my voice didn’t crack.
At Bible study on Thursday, we discussed the topic of pudding. I recalled how my Grandma Royuk often made butterscotch pudding. It made me want some. I mentioned that her pudding had a skin on top. The other Bible study people said that was because she made the cooked kind rather than the instant kind. I resolved to find some cook-kind butterscotch pudding and eat it.
Yesterday on my way home from some errands, I stopped at the grocery store to get my pudding. All they had was instant butterscotch. I got some anyway. But I also got some cook-to-prepare chocolate pudding.
The butterscotch mixed up quickly and easily. I enjoyed the flavor, but there were two things wrong with it. The first problem was how it looked. It was kind of translucent at the edges. It was really quite off-putting. The other problem was the texture. It wasn’t thick enough. It didn’t feel proper. I ate it anyway.
I also made the chocolate right away. Since I was in an experimental mood, I made it with soy milk. The instructions said to stir constantly until it came to a full boil. “Full” was bolded on the box. It made me a little anxious. Would I stop it too soon? Would my boil not be “full” enough?
The pudding turned out well. I did not notice any weird flavor because of the soy milk. The look and texture were proper as well. Now I just need to find the cook-type pudding in butterscotch…
We were making some banners at school and people were getting a lot of glue on their hands. As they rubbed it off, it reminded me of something we used to do in elementary school: make our own rubber balls. We would mix white glue with mucilage (which I think has one of the most disgusting names of any product sold on the market). Pour a little mucilage in the palm of your hand, then squeeze some white glue in, then roll and roll and roll. As it dries, it balls up. The resulting ball is very bouncy. We did it often.
Anyway, I just so happened to have a bottle of mucilage in my desk, so we tried it yesterday. The mucilage was old, so it was thick, and the kids were a little too enthusiastic, so instead of a puddle of glue, they covered their hands with it. It wasn’t drying out. I sent them to the bathroom to wash it off. It took a loooong time to get it off. But it eventually washed away. Whew!
Back in my room, I put just a little bit in my hand. Success!
Does anyone ever use the word “belated” and NOT say Birthday after it? I’ve certainly never heard it in common use.
“My airplane was belated.”
“I just sent a belated membership payment.”
“The belated baby was due last week.”
Anyway, I came home last night to discover a package had arrived from the Pester house. It was full of birthday wonderfulness. Beth had included many tasty treats, including peanuts in the shell. The sticky note attached asked: “When was the last time you bought these?” Actually, less than a month ago. 
I love them. Also included: Beth’s favorite cereal (I didn’t open it yet), some smoked almonds, and some cut-out cookies. Having just arrived home from Bible study, where I stuffed myself to bursting, I didn’t break into any of the food.
The package also was crammed with Tara art. There were many surprises wadded up and jammed into envelopes and sealed closed with dozens of return-address labels. I especially liked the colorful finger paint art.
Last night was the final dual of our season. The boys wrestled hard again. We won about half the matches. It’s a testament to the boys’ determination, but also the persistance of head coach Dave, who made sure the match-ups were fair.
After the wrestling we had a pizza party. It was like an awards banquet without the awards. It was fun. Never having been at one, I was nervous to make a speech. It was short because I didn’t know what to say and because that’s the number one comment I hear from people who go to sports banquets: they’re too long.
Dave got shirts for everyone. Kim printed team pictures. The boys (their moms) got gift cards to restaurants for me and Dave. My favorite part about the thank you was a card signed by all the boys.
I’m going to miss wrestling.
