I’m in between church services – I got home from the baptisms less than an hour ago, and I’ll go back in 4 or 5 hours.  I’m worn out and a little giddy and probably slightly tipsy on some delicious port wine – we ended up with a bottle of the good stuff, sitting out on the porch steps afterwards, thanks to Q’s father.  Holy Saturday is the only day of the year where we eat in church – bread, dried fruit and nuts, port and juice.   On an empty stomach, it’s something else.

The sun came out and shone upon us today, in some sort of minor miracle, removing any sympathy we had for the catechumins wading into the ice cold pond to be dunked.  I have pictures, but I don’t have the energy to sort through them yet.

I ought to be doing some of my much-neglected school work, but all I want to do is bake a cake and take a nap.  I don’t need to bake anything, since I have cheese and bread and salami to take to the potluck, but my heart cries out for a chocolate sour cream bundt cake.  I’ve done so little baking lately, I think I’m going through withdrawal.  So I just might trot over to the store and get some sour cream and go to town.  Maybe I could listen to some lectures while I bake…

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