Yesterday was exhausting, of course. Plus I didn’t take a cane with me and I was so freaking crippled by the end of the day.
I’m pretty sure I’m getting Alex tonight, which makes me very happy. Then tomorrow Richie will come with me to see my mother, and then nun rehearsal (our music is very difficult and in Latin and it’s supposed to be memorized by Monday. And they’ve made me a freaking alto, when I’ve always been a soprano. Soprano is easy — it’s almost always the melody. Alto is hard, and I don’t have an ear for harmony. So it’s a challenge.)
So I’ll spend the weekend memorizing my lines and the music, in between jumping in the pool. Oh, but first, there’s the Independence Day parade. I foolishly offered to be a nun in the parade, as long as I could ride, because I can always whip up a nun’s habit. Then the little old man (who’s maybe 5 years older than me) who’s driving the float wanted a nun’s habit. Then the director wanted the Mother Abbess to ride in a nun’s habit. So one nun’s habit went to three.
But I came through. For Jim, I went searching in the back of the choir robe closet where I knew there was an old black cotton robe. He’ll wear that. Mother Abbess and I are about the same size, and I was able to find a couple of black caftan type things I’d sewn over the years (one I wore to an RWA awards ceremonies a number of times). We’ll wear those with a white t-shirt underneath.
Now, the headdress. You take a white t-shirt or turtleneck and instead of pulling the hem over your head, you pull the neckline. Then you pull it back so it hugs your head.
Here are instructions in case you ever feel like dressing up as a nun. If you want to reverse the colors take a black t-shirt or turtleneck and a white pillowcase — it works just as well.
Here we go putting the t-shirt on neck first instead of hem first. Now it’s scrunched around my neck.
Then you pull it back over your head, keeping your hair tucked under, so that it’s sort of a sleek hair covering (tie the long sleeves underneath the bulk of the shirt. See, now I look like some sort of holy nomad. Then, find a length of plain black cloth. I just went and bought three yards at Jo-Anns because it was half price and who knows when I’m gonna need another nun. Drape it over your head. Drape it down, and use safety pins (hidden) or straight pins (which can be problematic) to keep it in place. Voila! Instant nun!
I’ll make Lani and Jenny try it next time we’re there. Hey, Alastair too. We’ll be the Sisters of Perpetual Fabulousness.
And now you can be one too. All you need is the outfit.
Yesterday was exhausting. Emotionally as well as physically. I blew off the quilt show and just came home. I really didn’t think I’d mind taking her over to the rehab place, but it was depressing. Pushed all sorts of buttons for me, brought back awful childhood memories.
Hmmm. A hummingbird just buzzed by to the pot of lavender in front of me, and it felt like a message not to think of awful childhood memories. So I won’t.
She already sent a message home that she doesn’t need to be in that place, but I’m just going to tell her there’s no place closer at this point, and she needs to suck it up (in the nicest possible way). I’ll tell her to work hard on her rehab and I’ll see if I can get her a new roommate. But she has to put on her big girl panties (in the nicest possible way). And then, no matter how tired I am, I’ll go to the quilt show. And when I come home I’ll go to the first musical run-through for the nuns.
Okay, on to other things. Exercise is going to be tricky, unless have have a hot summer (a mixed blessing if I’m wearing a nun’s habit). If it’s hot I can go to Aunt Alice’s or Uncle Bill’s beach and do water walking there (our white elephant and the bane of my existence is being rented all summer). And I can figure out some water exercises for our relatively shallow pool (42″). I don’t think it’s deep enough to take enough weight off my poor knees for walking, but there are other things I can do. And I imagine I’ll be more active with the show than I usually am so that will help. I’ll also be too busy to keep heading toward the damned goldfish.
Not quite sure how I’ll manage the knees. I know I can handle being on-stage, but standing around can be difficult. Maybe I’ll see if there’s one of those little camp stools I can cart around with me to take a load off. And I can use my cane. My main problems are walking long distances (hence the motor scooters at WDW and RWA) and standing for long periods. I’m determined to manage it. Fortunately I’m a Nun with Character, not an ingenue, so limping or a cane would still work. Hell, I could Glee it and do it from a wheel chair. (Is that the first time Glee was used as a verb? Probably not.)
Anyway, it’s a beautiful morning, the birds are swooping, the air is clear, the sky is intensely blue, and my loins are girded. (Maybe that’s why I have trouble walking. I always have to gird my damned loins!)
Another day of denial, coming right up.
At least I finally got swimming for the first time in three weeks or more. No last minute graduation to throw me off. Not that the graduation was last minute, it was simply that I hadn’t heard about it.
So, I decided to do something wild and crazy, lured by the siren call of a nun’s habit. I’m trying out for “The Sound of Music” today. Assuming my fragile mood holds in one piece, that is. My cousins are going to be nuns, and there aren’t many people with as much experience wearing a habit as moi. How can I resist?
Of course, one problem is that I thoroughly despise “The Sound of Music.” Years (and years and years and years) ago, when it was still playing on Broadway, there was a one-line review: “The happy Trapps never shut their flappy yaps.” It’s just so …. cheery (she says in terms of deep loathing).
Ah, but for the chance of prancing around in a nun’s habit, singing and dancing, how can I resist? I can even tolerate rainbows on roses and whiskers on kittens.
We’ll see how the day progresses.
Crusie reminded me of one of my favorite Dorothy Parker quotes — “What fresh hell is this?” That’s what I tend to think as I face the day, but perhaps I’ll be happily surprisedl
Then again, perhaps not.