I had an interesting weekend and actually felt the need to write about it. As an unemployed person, my interesting weekend began with the meeting I had with the advisor the labor department has assigned me until I actually have a job. (Is anyone hiring?) He told me that all the jobs I have applied for in the private sector have an equivalent job in the public one. The state pays well (at least until the governor shuts it down) and has great benefits (provided the politicians don’t spend all the money) so I should try for those. Unfortunately… at this point the only job that my over a dozen years of experience as a teacher qualifies me for is… a food service worker. Well, that’s one application the state’s getting.

Saturday was a much nicer day. I went to the Farmer’s Market on Main Street. For the first time in over a year I got to enjoy sitting and listening to Celtic live music. One young man had a guitar, a lady played a variety of penny whistles and the last moved back and forth between a bodhron (I think that’s how it’s spelled, it’s a kind of drum) and a fiddle. For those of you who don’t know, I love this kind of music. It inspires me to write about bards. ^^ We only got to hear two songs before they packed up to leave. Maybe we’ll come back next week and listen to something else.

The coffee was delicious, even though Retriever Roasters (where we were supposed to meet a friend) was closed. Our friend wasn’t able to make it due to a family emergency, but we had a good time anyway. I hope everything in her family is well.

As always happens, the Dana attracted attention. “What kind of lap top is that?” is the usual question. I don’t mind answering and even talking up the company. My Dana is the best little computer I’ve ever had, even with the little hiccups I occasionally get from it.

I can’t imagine why any place would be closed when something like a farmer’s market is happening just outside. Not only was it beautiful out, the farmer’s market brought everyone down to Main Street. As annoying as it was to have half of Main Street closed off, if it helps the local businesses it’s worth it.

Then came Sunday. Sunday was the last service our pastor will give before she retires. I loved her preaching style and I’ll miss her both as a pastor and as a person. I can’t express the gratitude I have toward her for the support she’s given me since my divorce and all during the stuff that happened at my last place of work. So I was really looking forward to listening to the sermon. Then, seated up in front of literally God and everyone, there were people in the choir behind me who insisted on talking throughout the sermon. I get glared at because I write (usually religious poems or my thoughts about the sermon) or draw (again, usually religious artwork, often inspired by the sermon or time of year) and these folks are chatting about I don’t know what during the sermon. What the heck? I gritted my teeth and focussed on the sermon.

Well, that all made me feel much better and I’m shocked that I wrote an honest to God blog entry. It won’t be my last entry for the day though, the story is yet to come. If anyone is reading my story, please comment. I get tired of the spam lists as comments.