SATURDAY, ORDINARY TIME 7 (WHITSUNTIDE)/NO-BUY MAY 25



Saturday sun in the dogwood leaves. This is not an especially beautiful old tree, but it's fun to follow it through the seasons. Feels as though I was just taking photos of buds on the branches, and now here it is, leafed out for summer. Time the revelator, always . . . though I tend to think that mostly what time reveals is its own hold on the world. 

A marvelous choir practice last night, long and hard but invigorating. I came home, drank wine with the husband, and stayed up late because I was so buzzed from singing. Still struggling with that Orlando di Lasso "Jubilate Deo," but I got through it, mostly. It's a short piece and doesn't look as though it would be that hard, but it's kind of relentless. If you fall off, it's hard to get back on again. I was kind of gratified not to be the only person finding it difficult. I think I'll focus on practicing with a YouTube of all four parts between now and next Thursday. 

More choir: I'm singing with a new festival choir at St. Michael's, down the road from us in Gastonia, for Corpus Christi --- so another practice tomorrow. Haven't been to Mass at St. Michael's in a while, but I like the parish a lot, and their new music director (also in the diocesan choir), and it'll be fun to have another opportunity to sing. I'm still not ready to dive back into the commitment of a regular parish choir, but it's so nice to have these occasions to keep my hand in. 

Today: chores, this and that, plus this store run I've been putting off. 

Wearing: 



*Wool& Brooklyn dress (S/Long) in Beetroot, bought November 2023 (with a discount from a 30-day dress challenge)

*Same ol' secondhand Birk Mayaris, bought in April of this year

A side view because I don't often take this kind of shot (or post it here if I do), and because I have been doing core exercises, as well as taking some enzyme supplements that have helped with bloating and other IBS-like symptoms that have plagued me. I'm not at all invested in having six-pack abs, but it's nice to see some results from the casual exercising that I do. I do actually want to lose visceral fat, which even very thin women can have to an unhealthy degree, but more than that, I want to work on core strength. Core strength helps your stability and balance as you age, enhances your good posture, and contributes to your overall well-being and capability. So that's what some reduction in belly bloating and general size represents for me. BUT I'll admit that I also like seeing my clothes hang better. 



Meanwhile, this is just a great summer dress, airy and cool even though it's not sleeveless. I feel instantly dressed and polished when I put it on. I hadn't worn it since a trip to the pub on (checks notes) May 9, so it seemed time to pull it out again. 

I would honestly love if they made a dress just like this --- same bodice, same sleeves, same line to the skirt --- in a midi or even a maxi length. I'd wear the heck out of a dress like that, all year round. As it is, I do wear the heck out of the two Brooklyn dresses I have, albeit in my gentle, slow rotation that prevents too much stress for any one dress. 

Also, I tried my beloved kimono with this dress. Not awful, but not my favorite. The colors don't not go, but they aren't a perfect combination. And the kimono really obscures the line of the dress, which is kind of the dress's whole point. I'll wear it with my Pacific Brooklyn, because those colors do go, but it probably won't be my first choice of a top layer with this style. I could be wrong, of course. But that's my thought at the moment. 

Sparing you my wet hair. 

And now to let the dog out and live this day. 

OH: The husband had emailed the Bishop of Trondheim, Erik Varden, whom we both admire and had wanted to try to meet while we're there. Alas he'll be in London in late June, but is going to have someone show us around the Catholic cathedral in Trondheim, which will be cool. We've toured the medieval Nidaros Dom, which now is Lutheran, and the husband glanced in at the modern Catholic cathedral on his way back from ditching the car in the parking garage (AFTER the parking ticket, of which we are now finally absolved).

For a not-very-Catholic country (like, your Mass choices in rural Norway are NIL), there seems to be a thriving community, at least in Trondheim. The Norwegian Mass in Bergen was largely immigrants, and I'd be curious to know whether that's true in Trondheim as well. We won't be there on a Sunday, but plan to catch some daily Masses when we are there. On our last Sunday, we won't be back in Bergen in time for the main Norwegian Mass, so will have to catch the evening one in English, which apparently is the "synthesizer Mass," but oh well. It'll be interesting to see who the English-speaking Catholics in Bergen are --- or to put it another way, who shows up for the English-language Mass, since just about everybody in Norway speaks excellent English. 

We also plan this year to tour some medieval stave churches. We drove by a number of these last year, but didn't go inside. Our whole itinerary is really on the theme of what we didn't get around to last year, but said to ourselves, "If we ever come back here . . ." 

LATER: 

The self-satisfied face of one who has been to the store. 



Also dry hair. No gel today, just foam, so it's been a lot less crunchy, but also a lot less defined. I probably didn't even need to bother with the foam, but it does add some nice shine. 

Which is fine, honestly. It's Saturday. This is perfectly good hair for being barked at by a dog who disliked her bath yesterday and thinks today's flea spray constitutes a hate crime. I am studiously ignoring her, so that she will realize that standing here barking at me does not work for her in any way, but the song she's singing in between barks is cracking me up. (Yes, she's been for two walks, she's had food, she's had a treat, her water dish is not empty, she's been petted --- her needs have been met. She just needs not to make it her job to decide when she gets attention, of which she does actually get plenty, but on my timeline, babe. Not a timeline set by somebody who rolls in bird poop on the road.)