Remember the last time I was momentarily liturgically confused?
It happened again -- the lovely, fluffy spring snows that have fallen off and on since Saturday have had me discombobulated:
Of a friend's preschooler's approaching birthday, I said: "Wait -- was he a winter baby? When was he born?"
Anne-with-an-e: "Mom. It's almost April."
And, for Betsy's Confirmation this past weekend, we got to stand outside and shiver in the cold and flurries before the procession into the Church. (But I'm not complaining. Well, yes, I am, and I need to cut it out.)
An end to my discombobulation, an end to my complaining, and an update on all things Lent.