Remember our sweet little Christmas tree? Here it goes, in our annual Good Friday fire:
My sister and her husband host a Good Friday fish fry every year, and one year, their Christmas tree made it to the fire pit. Viola! A tradition was born. I think some kind of connection could be made between the commemoration of Christ's death and the burning of the Christmas tree, but it's really not that deep -- just a bunch of people who come together to see how fast a dry evergreen can go up in flames.
We (meaning Rocky, our friend and fire bug) burned 5 trees this year. The weather cooperated last night-- it had been windy all day long, but the wind died down around 8:30. Hope we have the same good luck tonight at the Vigil Mass -- I'll take my camera.
Knitting content next week, I promise. Lent is rough on church musicians, who have a few catering jobs and three major projects thrown in for good measure. You'd think I'd given up the computer for Lent. And I know you're not supposed to talk about what you give up, but I am really looking forward to a trip to Starbucks Monday morning!