I found the J. Peterman's film noir dress in emerald green with that collar and the wrap around fit that flares just so. I don't just fit in it, it's a little loose, now. The high-heeled boots were good in the snow. Solid, dependable, walking boots now that I took them all over the place with me at Carl's, that still make me over six feet tall. One of the guys was like, "When did you get that much taller than me?"
The "dawn" service was actually at 8:30, which made it easy enough to get to. A small service, breakfast, and ten different gospel readings that everyone tried to act out. The baby of our group dropped a dirty diaper in the midst of our bit and kind of overshadowed the whole thing. Laughter. And then we had little Pepperridge Farm goldfish (which, technically, are unleavened when I think about it) and grape juice for our communion, and then we broke our fast with a vengeance.
The real coffee gave me a headache. *sigh* I'm going to have to think through going back.
I sometimes hate Easter and Christmas services. Everyone goes all traditional during them. You wouldn't have thought, from the hymns, the kid's sermon, and other aspects that a significant number of the congregation doesn't actually believe in a physical resurrection. That, like the virgin birth, some of the miracles, and other aspects of how the gospels were written, that it was just the storytelling style and mystical language of the day to prove something to other people.
But George's sermon kind of saved me, though, as it had more emphasis on the message of "Do not be afraid." In John's gospel it's the first thing his Christ says.
Then one of the professional writers in the congregation asked me what I was doing lately. When I said that I was trying to write something novel length, mostly to hone the writing side of things (especially ending such a long piece properly) before tackling all the technical SF ideas I have, she was delighted. She discussed how she organized multiple-threaded novels and the data, plot lines, and characters and, even better yet, how she represented the fact that the whole plot was dynamic while she wrote it. She has a whole wall that she sticks stuff on, in order, as the plot lines as they converge. She has characters that have to be where and when on each stage as well, so that she can get the movements necessary in. But if something happens that derails what's planned, she goes with it and moves stuff around.
I use index cards, and when things move, I throw them out or write new ones. But I like the idea of being able to spread it all out before me and refer to pieces in context with each other. Some of it is just in text files that I already know are going to be future scenes/chapters, ideas from other people, notes and research from other areas are pointed to by the file. But it was really fun to talk with her about what she does. I had started with index cards for Twin Souls, but I've out-written most of the original plot points. I've built more in the meantime, and I have at least three chapter's worth. But I need to probably do more detailed planning to get to the good ending. There are vague hints in my brain that I might not be satisfied until I hit bankai and captaincy with the boys, but... I'll ignore that for now.
So it'll be something for me to do when I have no real access in Biloxi.
After the service, the kids were let loose on a rampage of an Easter egg hunt.
I was already exhausted by this point with all the people. But in the afternoon we went to a friend's house and there were just two other couples and various kids that Jet already knew and played well with. So it was good and quiet and simple enough. We brought the apple pie, they supplied all the food, and we had a great ham dinner (with half a dozen sides) at about 3. I was starving, so I ate right after the kids were served.
Then they got to do a really huge egg hunt. Jet got an entire sack full of candy and a few dollar bills. Wow. The snow had melted and the sun came out, so we all stood in the sunshine and the 40+ degree weather and watched the kids find stuff. Then the dads and the kids played a modified form of baseball for a full nine innings. It was fun to watch three-year-old Jojo learning how to really swing a bat with lots of encouragement from everyone.
I mostly knit on some socks while everything was happening, and when I got too cold, we went into the house, and all the moms got hot tea and talked books and kids and stuff. It was funny to realize that I read nothing of what they read, that while I read a stack of books at Carl's apartment, they were all manga or graphic novels. But it was okay.
By 7, we went home, and Jet got some of his homework done and the boys hot tubbed and enjoyed the hot water out in the last of the snow. incandescens has reviewed my next chapter, so I'll post it soon. Thank you, incandescens.