La-dee-da, la-dee-da

by chuckofish

How was your weekend?

It was a beautiful weekend here in flyover country–a little warm for October, but I’m not complaining. It was perfect for sitting outside at the winery, which daughter #1 and I did after our DAR meeting in the morning. The meeting was pleasant also–I do so love talking SEC football with a Crimson Tide fan, which I did while eating breakfast.

Anyway, we enjoyed the musical entertainment at the winery–a guy singing the 1970s playlist, which must be what boomers who go to wineries want to hear. And I’m okay with that.

At church we heard a good sermon on Philippians 2:12-18:

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 13 for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.

14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing, 15 that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, 16 holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain. 17 Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. 18 Likewise you also should be glad and rejoice with me.

Work it out.

Rein it in.

Offer it up.

The communion hymn was Yet Not I But Through Christ in Me, which gets me every time. Once again I asked myself, why do I wear mascara to church?

We also sang this classic from 1787, but with the traditional American tune, which I really like:

After church, since there was no adult ed, we went to the Sunny Street Cafe for brunch. The twins are very grown up now and well behaved, although once they have scarfed down their pancakes and/or French toast, they are not ones to linger over a second cup of coffee and more conversation. C’est la vie.

I was sad to hear that Diane Keaton has died. She was a favorite of mine. She had some class–a rare thing in Hollywood. She liked turtlenecks, she eschewed plastic surgery, and like Woody Allen said, “She prefer[ed] to look old.” Apparently no one knew she was ailing. She died privately and with no hoopla. Guess it’s time to dig out Annie Hall (1977). La-dee-da, la-dee-da.

Have a good week! Be faithful and fruitful!