I’ve come home for a little lie down…
Palm Sunday is one of the days every year I vow I’m going to do more clarinet practice. Either that, or next time I change churches and go to one that has an outdoor Palm Sunday Procession, I do not admit to being able to play the clarinet.
It does help to keep the processional singing more together, and at a reasonable pitch. I do know the hymns off by heart, though I usually persuade a faithful soul to march alongside me to be my music stand, just in case.
But, my oh my, my lungs were fit to burst after three verse of You are the King of Glory, what seemed like hundreds of verses of All Glory, Laud and Honour, five of All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name, and six (I think) of Hail to the Lord’s Anointed. Which was when it literally was uphill! Toddling along, tootling, and praying hard for just a bit more breath, for my lip not to give up, for my reed to stay intact and for me not to fall over any of the uneven pavement we were warned about in the pre-procession Risk Assessment. Oh, yes. For the few hundred yards from the appointed starting place, to the church door, a Risk Assessment had to be carried out.
I’ve never been so thankful to get to the church door and let the organist take over! My work, however, was not done… we were doing a Proper Anthem, as is our wont on special days and occasions. We did it rather nicely, methinks. It goes on record that the choir have improved a hundredfold, and the hard work, sweat, and tears are paying off.
Now, if the next uphill battle of getting an answer out of someone of whom I am very fond, except their ability to respond to e-mails/phone messages, could be fought and won, that would be good for my equilibrium.