I am glad a day trip was planned for Sunday after the pressures of the Saturday visit. I really believe Mr. Andrews enjoyed his visit and even thought about staying for dinner. Until he found out he would have to help fix it! Everybody works around here. As he was leaving we had a chat on the front steps. He said that he would have some nice things to say in his report. Without getting upset, having been expecting something like this, I said that there would be no report. He had come in an unofficial capacity and as a guest. There are strict laws protecting the privacy of the girls. I intended to enforce them. He left in kind of a huff, but turned and waved from his car.
We drove up into the woods to an Episcopal Campground where they have Sunday services all year round. Everybody that wants to brings an instrument to play and any semblance of a regular religious event is lost in a collage of hymns, spirituals, personal affirmations and food. I thought it would be a good introduction to the up-coming Gypsy party.
I deliberately took the girls around and set (sat??) them in empty spaces next to strangers. I rested in the fork of a tree and watched. Normally Jade would look around and try to find her friends. Since this was "church" she just looked straight ahead. Coral turned and pointed to a squirrel playing on the altar, but quickly caught my frown. 'quoise somehow wound up with a squirming boy in her lap. Wish I could draw like some of you ladies. Everything is trees and split logs and pine needle paths and a lake making me squint. There may have been preaching. I couldn't hear for a boy trying to play a French horn next to me. The girls didn't ask any questions so I guess nothing was confusing. 'quoise found the "monks" over by the garden.
Food is pot-luck and all the girls had helped make deviled eggs and celery sticks with peanut butter. I wandered over to the tables early to put little blue flags on the dishes that Coral shouldn't eat and missed some of the singing. When I got back to the forest chapel a kind of Conga Line had formed with everyone holding hands and weaving around the benches and stumps. Coral was pounding on a drum as big as she is and I could hear 'quoise singing deep and off key. Jade broke the line and pulled me in. I don't remember most of the songs but at the end an old man looking about 90 sang "I Believe." On the trip back Coral asked why the man had cried when he sang.
I think they are ready for Gypsies.