Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical (hermionesviolin) wrote,
Elizabeth Scripturient (the delinquent, ecumenical


I went out to buy some milk Saturday morning, and it was like, "Hello cold snap." Overnight lows in the 30s and daytime highs in the 50s looks to be the trend for a while. I definitely need to actually go through all my old winter clothes and decide what I'm keeping and how much new stuff I need to buy. Too bad I don't have curtain rods, 'cause my hands have been cold when I'm at my computer. (I also want to buy new doorknobs 'cause the threading is worn on both the front door and the bathroom door and the latter in particular makes me nervous. The catch on my bedroom door is missing, which I'm less clear on how to fix -- I guess replace the whole mechanism -- and which wouldn't really bother me at all, since the door doesn't swing open on its own, except that my housemate's cat will come in, which makes me nervous when I'm not around and which is annoying when I want to be in bed and there's this heavy lump on part of my bed.)

I went down to the CHPC flea market to help out and was quickly reminded of how much I don't like church fairs -- people ask how much something is and nobody has any effing idea, and when you quote someone a price they want to pay less anyway because clearly at stuff like this everything should be free even if you would pay real money for the exact same item in an actual store. I had planned to be there for the whole 10am-2pm, but I didn't get there until about 11 'cause I got a late/slow start on the day, and around 1:15 I headed out to JP.

I'd never really been to JP except for a little passing through, but Laura Ruth and Meck live right near the Stony Brook stop. It's a lovely area.

I got there around quarter to three (I made a couple phone calls in between getting off the Orange Line and actually going inside) and was the first person there (it was advertised as a 2-6pm event), though the next person arrived just a few minutes after me.

At one point Laura Ruth said something about communion the next day and I said, "But it's not the first Sunday in the month." She literally slapped her knee and almost doubled over laughing.


The Closing Hymn at CWM tonight was "I Love to Tell the Story" (revised). I looked it up on cyberhymnal.org after I got home, and Tallessyn had actually left it mostly as the original.
I love to tell the a story of unseen things above,
Of Jesus and His glory, of Jesus and His love.
I love to tell the story, because I know ’tis true;
It satisfies my longings as nothing else can do.

I love to tell the story, ’twill be my theme in glory,
To tell the old, old story of Jesus and His love.

I love to tell the story; more wonderful powerful it seems
Than all the golden shallow fancies of all our shallow golden dreams.
I love to tell the story, it did so much for me;
And that is just the reason I tell it now to thee.


I love to tell the story; ’tis pleasant to repeat
What seems, each time I tell it, more wonderfully sweet.
I love to tell the story, for some have never heard
The message of salvation from God’s own holy Word.
This song for all creation, this leaving, healing Word.


I love to tell the story, for those who know it best
Seem hungering and thirsting to hear it like the rest.
And when, in scenes of glory, I sing the new, new song,
’Twill be the old, old story that I have loved so long.

cyberhymnal.org says, "Music: Will­iam G. Fisch­er, Joy­ful Songs, Nos. 1 to 3 (Phil­a­del­phia, Penn­syl­van­ia: Meth­od­ist Epis­co­pal Book Room, 1869)" so I clicked on the bio for the woman who wrote them poem the song is based on to see if she was Methodist Episcopal, too, "As of 1881, Hank­ey was liv­ing with her un­mar­ried brother Reginald." I immediately had one thought and then another, both of which can be blamed on fandom ruining me.
Tags: apartment: living

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