A Funny Day

This was kind of a funny day.  It was the funeral of my friend Gloria, sister of my friend Martha.  The funeral was lovely, and it was wonderful to meet Gloria’s daughter Portia, about whom I had heard so much.  The choir sang, and, in honor of Gloria, the music was alto-centric.  Even the sopranos had to pretend they were contralti for the morning.  We got to sing the wonderful bits about the sparrow in “O how amiable” – bits which are usually reserved for the tenors.  This made us all happy.  Well, what’s funny about any of that, you might ask!  Nothing at all!  It was wonderful.

The funny came before.  And after.  I had been a bit panicky about getting up on time, and had several alarms set, lest I sleep through one.  I woke up betimes, well before a single alarm had gone off, and so was able to read the paper, decide that the crossword was too hard to bother with, and then even read some, possibly finishing my book, one of my very favorites.  However, my book was not there! I had gone to sleep with it in my hand, and now it was nowhere to be found.  Margaret denied all knowledge of it.  I had to completely undo the bedclothes to find it hiding among the blankets.  Then, when I arrived at the choir practice area, wishing I had time to read the last few pages, there was no one to be seen – no one from the choir, I mean. So I decided to sit in a sunny spot to read until some of my co-choristers showed up.  Still no one came.  Finally I went in, and found that I misunderstood the call time, and was about 45 minutes early.  Growl!

Afterward, I went downtown to get some crossword working pens.

There were people being amusing, 

I only like to do them in red ink.  This has become a fetish of sorts.  I have no idea how it started.  But if I have no red pen and have to do the puzzle in black, I just do not enjoy it as much. To my horror, my last red pen ran out of ink several weeks ago, and I have been doing the puzzle it black since.  I’ve been looking for the perfect pen all that time, but perhaps my needs are too specific – not only does it have to be red, but has to be altogether a certain sort of pen.  The usual sources had red pens of the wrong type, and black pens of the correct type, but really - close, but no cigar!  So today was just the day to go to the office store and find the perfect pen.  The day was sparkling and golden, and the walk downtown was balm for the spirit.  So many interesting things to see and so many happy people to smile with.  

There were people being amused,

People sporting the latest fashions,

And the usual obscure signage.

Now I am looking forward to working on tomorrow's crossword with the perfect pen.