Since yesterday was Sunday, it began with church. We sang, “Silence, Frenzied Unclean Spirit,” a song which I have of course wanted to sing ever since I first saw the title. Don’t you?

Following that, the musicians hung out in the coffee area considering what song we should get the bright folks over at to fix up for us, and with which instruments, and in what key. We went with Wesley’s “And Can It Be?” in E flat for voice, sax, and a couple of flutes. I sent my request in last night and had a clip to listen to by 10:30. They’re keeping traditional chords and phrasing so we could use it with the choir, but have given it a complex, tinkly set of harmonies. I can hardly wait. We have a list of other pieces we’ll be wanting them to do for us, and I think you should probably get your orders in, too.

As you know if you read my musical Advent calendars, I can always hear pieces in my mind with different instruments, but of course I couldn’t actually arrange them to save my life. I love the idea of being able to say, “Will you fix this one up for us with three trumpets and an organ?” Or whatever.

Home again, I cooked and cleaned and read and lolled for a while, those being my goals for yesterday, and then watched clips from “The Big Bang Theory,” knitting and giggling helplessly. There are no full episodes online, but it mentioned that it was on Monday nights. This is my last Monday without a rehearsal, so I am going to make an effort to watch it this evening. I’m not much of a TV watcher, but I found that funny.

I also was laughing about a collection of engineer jokes my Spaniard sent me, in return for some flow chart jokes I’d sent him.

Hmmmm. Somehow, while referring to one set of clients as “my Aussies” sounded okay, referring to this other lcient as “my Spaniard” does not. Numbers won’t work now that I have too many to remember who was which number, locations are a bit difficult, I don’t know these people well enough or tell you about them often enough to give them all nicknames, and many of them have professions that are either too complex to encapsulate or else they’re engineers and IT guys and there are too many of them.

Never mind. The engineer was not the point. I’ll soldier on.

So at the end of the day, #1 daughter called me to vent a little about the disrespectful way the computer salesman treated her. I get the smae thing. In fact, last time I wen tcomputer shopping, she was with me, so I know just what she means. As far as I know, I have no computer salesmen among my readers, but if you are out there, then you guys just have to quit trying to size up your customers’ needs based on their looks. You’re not good at that.

#1 daughter is planning to take some web design courses. She’s good with graphic arts and with computers, so that makes sense to me, and of course I love the idea of having someone to talk about these things with in real life.

She said we could be geeky together.

I resist that term. I don’t think of myself that way at all. Looking back on the day, though, it is possible that someone who starts the day with discussions of key signatures, continues with engineer jokes and humorous flowcharts, and finishes it up with “The Big Bang Theory” shouldn’t resist it so strenuously. Perhaps I’m judging on the basis of looks.

If #1 daughter and Pink Hebe, delectable creatures that they are, can be computer guys, and a nice matron like me can be a computer guy, then perhaps it is the stereotype that needs to change. Perhaps we’ve outgrown that. Maybe there was a time when people who could read were automatically assumed to be socially inept folks who had pocket protectors on their jerkins.