How I spent my weekend

Well, some of it you can deduce by my answers in the 'Game of Eight' in a previous post. But here's the full scoop.

Saturday we had the First Communion retreat for YaYa, who will celebrate her big day next Sunday. It was a very nice time - no really, it was - involving a brief practice, a 20 minute talk from the priest, a fine potluck, and a creative art project: designing a pillar candle for use in the ceremony.







Note all the sequins and whatnot in this photo. When all was said and done Lisa told me to sort out our pile and place them back in the correct slot in the craft box. I agreed, put one away, and then stuck the mess in my pocket. Who's gonna sort out 50 different sequins, ya know? But Lisa caught me and the job was completed as requested.











I think it was a good idea to send her to Sunday School classes at our parish. You may recall there was pressure to join one of the 'cluster' parishes and participate with members of her everyday class. We decided against it, and I think we made the right choice.

A) We like the priest a lot, even if his sermons are 4000X better than his brief and clumbsy attempts at instruction B) she is free of any of the cliques (sic?) that plague her school C) she gets to meet new people and start fresh; heck, start with an edge, as she is well versed in many of the religious topics that are taught.

Plus the Sunday school teacher is very inventive and puts a lot of effort into the job. Case in point, a Powerpoint slideshow of the kids school year that was shown on Saturday. (when YaYa appeared on screen for the first time the kids yelled out "[YaYa]!" - but if you listen to her she's never had a friend here, there, or anywhere in her life).

YaYa admitted it was a good decision and out of the blue thanked us both for sending her there for the classes. And you could tell she relished the one on one time with us. Awwww!

* * * *

Much of the weekend was devoted to preparing for the communinon (although we both went to work Saturday shortly after the retreat ended).

Some time ago we decided to combine the parties for YaYa and my Godchild, as their First Communions are a mere day apart. As such, a month ago we sat down to work on the combined invites. Printed at home on some very nice invitation stationary Lisa got at a great discount, it was a true family affair.









Later in the month Lisa and my sister got together and melted chocolate into coin molds decorated with religious symbols - hands together in prayer, a chalice, and a cross. Sunday night, with Lisa at work, my sister and I sat down to finish the project.

We melted more chocolate, then skewered double-stuff Oreos and dipped them in the bowl, coating them completely. When dry we 'painted' the back of the coins with wet chocolate and 'glued' them to the Oreos. Lisa was pleasantly surprised that we managed to hammer out 70 more or less decent Oreos in the four hours she was gone; she then proceeded to finish the last (perfect) thirty in less than forty-five minutes. *@#$#



Sorry about the poor camera-phone quality of these next few; I'll get good pics at the actual party.







To be fair, the four hours I devoted to the project were interrupted by the kids announcing that the basement was leaking. Right on the heels of the sunny, 70 degree Friday weather we two straight days of torrential downpours. It shouldn't be a big deal - after all, our fine city has paid billiions to redo the sewers - but, uh, oh yeah, they did a crappy job. Every time it storms the streets in the neighborhood flood and if you give it time, that water has to go somewhere - and it's usually in the basements around here.

I got off easy, with a scant 15 gallons or so making its way inside, but I was soooooo ticked at the kids. They were no help at all, and at one point I yelled out: "This ain't your first rodeo, you know what to do! Get over here and give me a hand or you can go to bed right now!"

Ugh.

Where was I? Oh, today we bagged the Oreos, which will serve as a party favor at the Communion.

* * * *

Despite the trouble it brings, I love rain. Not *just* because it ensures that the kids will be inside and in sight, although that does assuage my paranoia. No, I just generally love a rainy day with a hint of cold in the air.

Sunny and warm is fine. But there's nothing so comforting as finding that patch of warmth as you come in from the cold, or the security of a roof over your head when you get out of the rain. And at night, with wind pushing against the window, puddles in the street dancing with rain, and a little jazz on the radio . . . perfect.