Patching things up

I am currently chatting with a woman from TurboTax, who has been unable to explain why when I click on "print and save" on the TurboTax website I get "buy your state tax returns from us" instead of my 1040s. I'm pretty hot about it--what if I wanted to actually save a copy of my taxes instead of using the federal forms to fill out my state taxes so I could get my $79 back from the state of Illinois? Because, damme it, after crawling over unshoveled mountains of snow all winter, Illinois owes me something for my pains.

Meanwhile.

Happy Easter everyone! I went to two services yesterday--an Episcopalian service at St. Bruton's (dating from 1715) and a Methodist service at the UMC (dating from 1785). I liked the Episcopalian sermon better (and the REAL communion wine was unexpected!) but the Methodist church has a CHOIR. Also, we got to sing "The Hallelujah Chorus" which was fun. My favourite part of that song is the bit where it goes "KING OF KIIIIIINGS..." a bunch of times until you're feeling faint and then you swing out of it with "And LoooOORD of Loords--andheshallreign!!" which is always difficult because you're out of breath and that phrase is on a page turn. I am going to see about joining the Methodist church, to sing again and try joining one of their adult Sunday school classes. They have ten classes. It's a huge church.

After church I went to a restaurant called The Blue Talon which is a French restaurant. I had lamb (well...Easter) and eggs (I know, I know...I'm a bad vegetarian) and coffee, served by a bartender who looked weirdly like Crispin Glover, but less creepy. Then I strolled around the grounds, enjoying the sunshine. All in all, a very nice Easter.

I was thinking Friday about anniversaries...we have national anniversaries, of course, but there are also personal anniversaries that are important only to the one person involved. Like March 21st, the day I flew home from London. It's hard to believe it's been a year. I never thought I would be in Virginia a year ago, but here I am. Friday night I went out and had a pint of cask-style IPA called "St. George"--the man sitting next to me warned me it was "warm" and I almost laughed at him. Oddly, I didn't really mind it until today when I was sitting, patching up a pair of breeches, and listening to "Blood Brothers." A truly terrible musical, but it's full of lovely British accents, and references to chip shops and a Thatcherite way of life that provoked a wave of nostalgia for the chippy in Brockley and the train to London Bridge. Ah, well. I won't get too maudlin. If I'm going back to London, I'm going back to stay.