Things were a little odd at church this morning.
First, Roy the organist was home packing for his two-month sabbatical in Germany, so we had a guest organist and his wife, who joined the choir in place of Margaret, who was off running the Race for Life. Ian, the minister, had also stepped aside this morning to let a theology student preach, so our lineup was a bit shaken.
Even stranger, I knew all the hymns. Really. All of them. One we had done at Kirk o' Field, but the others were all familiar from back home, or at least the tunes were. There was one with an American folk tune that no one else in the choir had ever heard before, so I got to lead, for a change. As I told Norma after the hymn, "Welcome to my world."
I had tea with two old ladies afterwards, one of whom began telling me all about her grandchildren, who are roughly my age. She then wanted to know about my program (she likes to write poetry), whether that was an actual degree program (instead of night courses), and what I wanted to do with it. We then went through the "Oh, I've always wanted to go to New York" stage. Fair enough.
Then she asked me what sign I was born under.
Huh?
"Taurus," I replied, wondering where this was going.
She seemed rather shocked at my choice of programs, given my sign, and said that it was more in line with her sign, Pisces. She wondered why I wasn't in accounting or something else math-heavy.
I explained that I got through calculus and ran from math. Then I made my excuses and slipped off.
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