Three-Four-Five

Friday, March 4, 2005

It was three-four-five, and march fourth, as the soldiers might.

Collette was looking forward to seeing Kirk of the Hills once again after two and a half years, at Idlewild’s rehearsal. They had been at Kirk for nine years before they became part of the church plant. That had been five and a half years before. And then they had visited once for a funeral for old Mr. Schrader (a wonderfully friendly old man), and for a Reformation Sunday service.

And then she and Carrie-Bri had visited yet again one September Sunday morning to revisit an old service. It was right before Dr. Trade-Winds was leaving on his first sabbatical of three months. They were warmly greeted by both him and Mrs. Trade-Winds. Carrie always had the highest respect for Dr. Trade-Winds and kept a picture of him in her screen saver slide show, amongst all the black-headed five-eight hotties of the day, which was quite comical actually.

It was also Vivaldi’s birthday that cool fresh Friday morning and the moon was a slice thinner. Collette decided that if she ever had a house, she would meticulously paint the trim in bright emerald Irish green around the windowpanes and place a set of old carriage lamps on either side of the front door. The front would likely be brick of dark red and perhaps she could start ivy climbing up the side wall, although it might perhaps eat out the mortar.