We had a strange, bitter little speech at the last Chamber Singers rehearsal from an older, mousy soprano whom I have never actually heard before. It included phrases like “ownership of the event” and “we’re all busy,” but the thrust of it was that we are all expected to show up at the madrigal dinner venue at 2:30 on Saturday and 12:30 on Sunday. This will mean, once I do my housework and errands on Saturday and church on Sunday, that the madrigal dinner will consume the entire weekend, rather than just the evenings as I had expected.

Normally, I would say that one week’s notice is not sufficient, their failure to plan ahead does not constitute an emergency for me, etc. However, it was so clear that there is some sad history there that I am going to do it without comment. Next year, if I am singing with the group, I will suggest that things be done differently.

The week after that is of course Thanksgiving, and we don’t know yet who is joining us or for how long, but I am confident that it will involve extra cooking and cleaning, probably extra work at the store, and perhaps some frolicsome times, but will be busy in any case.

Therefore, it is clear that this weekend I must follow a rigorous schedule of crafting and lolling. I have Christmas presents to make, a madrigal dinner costume to cobble together, and sweaters to finish before the recipients outgrow them. My SWAP got put on hold back in October, but #2 daughter sent me some vintage buttons for my nearly-completed jacket, and I had planned to make a dress for this month’s project.

I haven’t had a new dress since my mother-of-the-bride number three years ago, so I hope I can fit that in. I have even bought the fabric and the pattern. #2 daughter has her new dress cut out, and we had planned a Thanksgiving weekend sewing marathon, but that is up in the air.

So I intend to do a quick grocery trip and some cursory cleaning and then to set out all my various projects. The soldering iron and my collage stuff on the kitchen table by the window. The sewing projects by the sewing machine. The knitting (and some books) by the most comfortable chair. The bath and body ingredients on the kitchen counter.

That way, when I need a break from one project, I can move smoothly to another.

The boys asked for “game food.” This suggests to me that they will be happy to eat nachos and chili and possibly carry-out pizza, and will not expect me to cook much. The happy cries of blokes watching football will make a cheerful background to my endeavors.

I anticipate a productive day. And a restful one. I hope you have the same.