I cannot think that that lovely hymn was penned by a youngish person. Why not? “And all my silent, midnight hours defend.” I know that Middlest struggles with insomnia, but I like to think that it is chiefly an indignity foisted upon the middle-aged and the elderly. It was the closing hymn in sacrament meeting yesterday, and when we got to that line, it moved me to tears.
I am frequently awake at midnight, not because I am burning the candle at both ends, but because I have crashed earlier in the evening and, having gotten my allotted five hours of sleep, am officially done for several more hours.
I own a copy of Our Latter-Day Hymns: The Stories and The Messages, by Karen Lynn Davidson (ISBN 0-87579-137-9). On pages 136-137 she tells the story of this hymn. Addison published it in 1712, the year he was 40, which in those days would have made him an old man. The melody goes back to 1825 and was written by the then-director of the Imperial Russian Choir in St. Petersburg, Russia.
Over the weekend I got a notification on Facebook about this year’s DFW Fiber Fest 2011. Anne Hanson, one of my favorite knitbloggers, will be teaching. After my nap yesterday, I went to the website and discovered that her advanced lace knitting class, which would have been my only reason to attend, is already sold out. (Not that I would have registered for it on the Sabbath, but I am not [yet] above window-shopping online, on the Sabbath.)
Even experienced knitters are not always careful not to twist. I have since frogged this and cast on fewer stitches, on larger needles, and am past the point where I stopped before.
Heading back to bed now, having just put “Hope” or “Charity” on layaway. I will probably pay her off later this month, or early next month. Had she not been a limited edition, I would have simply saved up for her, but the sales window closes in six days. They do this on purpose...
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!