The internet wasn't working this morning. Fortunately, I had checked my email last night and I knew that Josie's confirmation class was meeting at 10:00.
I woke her up at 9.
Then Zack came running upstairs. He had to work at 10:00, which is unusual for him. He didn't know exactly when the bus came and he couldn't check. I told him I'd give him a ride; it's right on the way to church. Since both kids had to get ready and all I had to do was drive, I decided to wait till I got home to shower up.
We left the house at 9:25 and headed out.
First check: couldn't get around the lake. Some Halloween race had the lake blocked off.
So I headed over to Xerxes.
Second check: apparently the race was around Calhoun, too so I couldn't get around Caloun on Xerxes. Had to turn around and head for France.
Third check: France was open but since it was the only way to get from the south end of town to uptown or downtown, traffic was ridiculous.
Here, I'd thought traffic would be smooth sailing on a Saturday morning but I was WRONG.
Fortunately, we'd left in plenty of time and both kids were on time.
I walked into the Rectory at the Basilica with Josie. The class wasn't in the usual spot, so I helped her find it. I didn't mind since I knew my second cup of coffee and a hot shower were waiting for me at home.
Fourth check: upon finding the confirmation class, I was informed that this was actually a parent/ child day.
I was supposed to stay.
I hadn't washed my face, I hadn't had a shower, I was wearing a ratty old sweatshirt and no underwear (not that anyone could tell) and I hadn't even combed my hair (not that it would do any good.)
So I shrugged and sat.
One of the items on today's agenda was a tour of the magnificent, historic church. Including up the catwalk above the choir loft, across planks behind the plaster ceiling and out onto the roof, 80 feet above the street.
Fifth check; I was wearing clogs.
Believe it or not, climbing the
roof of the Basilica
in clogs wasn't the most daunting thing I've ever contemplated in church. This was a piece of cake compared to the idea of letting someone wash my feet on Holy Thursday.
I simply turned to the gal in charge and said "I didn't get the message about wearing sensible shoes. Can I go barefoot?"
After she said that was fine, I kicked off my shoes.
I had to laugh because I knew coming in that I had Frodo Baggins hair this morning. Now I had his feet, too.
The view from the roof of the church was totally worth the hair raising climb.
But I'll never do it again.
Now I'm getting ready to go to a Halloween party with pumpkin carving and everything.
