saturday

In the morning, I joined our parish gardeners to work on our Cloister Garden. Last spring I planted six DAE roses (two each of Sceptered Isle, Heritage, Shropshire Lad). They're planted by the lych gate, and have come back strong and full of leaves. I pruned them, getting rid of deadwood and cutting back gangly limbs.

I also divided some Japanese anemones, an easy chore since I had already divided my own at home this spring. Someone commented on the ruthlessness of my breaking apart the plants. Dividing perennials calls for some confidence. St. Augustine's if you're going to sin, sin boldly dictum applies here.

Saturday night was the vigil. Mack, who always lit our primitive fire with the sparks of flint, has moved away and this year the fire was lit by less historically authentic methods. Once again, individual candles were used through all the readings and seven baptisms.

I am not sure why, but where the basses sit in the choir, our candles burn faster. I went through three candles. Singing one of the anthems with a candle in one hand makes for tricky page turns. Throughout the candle period, the organ was not used, so all hymns and anthems were without accompaniment.

Our Journey in Faith participants (year long program for new parishioners) always host the quiche dinner after the vigil.