De omnibus iurem errare postulo.
10:15 p.m.
The church hall was full of townies, most of whom I have only ever seen at those events. They never come to our music department offerings, or Centennial Theatre concerts. They are your typical townshippers enjoying rustic, down-home type music, exactly the kind of stuff my husband generally can’t stand. But these guys were pretty good, if a little hokey at times, and I had fun.
This morning was spent in a marathon choir rehearsal, immediately following which I betook myself to the SAQ and bought a bottle of Crown Royal, dosing myself liberally from it upon my arrival home. I think that says everything that needs to be said about the rehearsal. Hubby and I went to the house of the guitar maker who is building him an electric guitar and we looked at wood and bits of guitars in the making and finished instruments and oohed and ahed and ran our fingers over finishes and mother of pearl inlays.
This evening we went to see a film, which was very funny. Hubby said that with the kids gone, it’s like it was when we were first married. Only it’s not, really. I miss those guys so much. It tears at me.
Fall weather has arrived with a vengeance. Last night as we walked to the church hall from our car, I commented on the smells of fallen leaves, and that scent of apples in the air. One of our neighbours has the most god-awful Halloween set up in his front yard. I must remember to take a picture of it and post it. It’s too good not to share.
The title of this post is the culmination of three years’ worth of Latin studies. Ed wanted to know how to say “I claim the right to be wrong about everything” with which to preface a book on theology that he plans to write someday. I obliged him.
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