Tell old pharoah
The Old Testament reading on Sunday was about God appearing to Moses in the form of a Burning Bush (Exodus 3:1-15). I suppose that was why we sang Go Down, Moses as our communion hymn. We
gave it our best shot tried, but Episcopalians plus negro spirituals equals truly awkward. We just can’t swing it, literally.
We had a lovely, balmy weekend and I tried to get out and about, but was still recovering from my cough/cold/whatever. I re-organized a large cupboard filled with an assortment of dishes, serving pieces, silver, holiday decorations, cleaning supplies, ephemera, etcetera. This turned into quite a job as you can imagine, but I got it all sorted out, cleaned and put away. I actually threw away very little (typical).
Since officially giving up on Humboldt’s Gift, I perused several bookshelves at home and picked out several possible books to read. I settled on The Proper Bostonian by Cleveland Amory, which I had picked up some time ago at an estate sale. It proved to be very enjoyable and full of information. Published in 1947, it “is as humorous and entertaining as anything that could be written about the Boston Brahmins–the Cabots, Lodges, Lowells, Adamses and others that make Boston a synonym for staidness and sobriety.” (Chicago Tribune) Now there’s a qualified recommendation for you! I am learning all about Boston’s First Families and the foibles of the “Proper Boston lady” and the “Proper Boston gentleman.”
This is particularly interesting to me as our maternal grandmother was a Sargent after all and lived on Clarendon Street in Back Bay for years. She was, indeed, a “Proper Boston lady.”
When our parents gave their third child the middle name ‘Sargent,’ our grandmother’s response was not, “Oh, how nice,” but “Well, finally.”
Well, more on this later, because it is Monday and the bell tolleth for me. Have a good week!
P.S. I watched part of the Oscars–why? Why did they keep playing Que Sera Sera? It was a strange show. But I didn’t watch the whole thing. I went to bed. Give me some credit.
(The OM took the photo of the amaryllis.)