Forty Days and Forty Nights

I meant to get ashes on Wednesday, but I ran out of time. I haven't gone to church on Ash Wednesday since 1998, so I was hardly breaking any personal tradition. This morning I went to mass for the first time since Christmas. The church down the street is small, and today the only decorations were three red panels behind the altar. Usually churches are decorated with light purples and branches during this time, and the deep red doesn't make an appearance until Palm Sunday. I have yet to find any light purple flowers on campus, but the holly berries next to the alumni circle are wildly bursting in the February wind, so I figured that it would be ok to bring a few branches back to my apartment and use the reds to decorate, just like my campus' church. Along the way I picked a few grass seed (wheat like) branches and a grey thorn branch. I filled a few empty jars with these and the berries (I picked the greens off of the branches so the holly looked less Christmasy and I little more wintry.) The milk jug of sticks I've had all year is still appropriate for this occasion. You can never go wrong with a vase of branches. 

Yesterday, I did a play reading for Young Playwrights, and, since I was in the city, I had time to explore Rittenhouse, buy pants, and go to South Street. My new fascination is thrift stores. Yesterday I went to Philly AIDS Thrift (a fantastic non-profit benefitting the fight against HIV/AIDS) and found a large jar and a picture frame in the free section. I cleaned the jar and set it on my end table, deciding I would put it to use later. After a while, when I was entertaining, I walked by my closet, turned to look at my end table, and saw my red candle sitting behind the jar. My mind immediately went, "Oh, hurricane vase." And that's what it will be. It's a bit bare right now, but I'll find a good way to fill it. Until then, my candle will live in it.

The frame. I'll put something in it eventually.