Advent

Three setting of Our Father. From Hungary, Poland and Slovenia. One each.

A couple of Kyries, a Cantata to St Nicolas, a Gloria from Spain and three Motets before traversing the breadth of that great American hinterland for two very different but equally frightening Advents.

Oh Wisdom of God, the First and Last. He said. 

This woke me up. Afraid and trembling. Then, O Antiphons!

Note to self: It's a lot safer just getting up with the kids.

Started feeling better after the fourth sausage. Then we went to the beach and liberated several thousand discarded shells and unusually coloured pebbles with which to fill our house up some more with.

It's more full than empty. Lets just leave it at that.