Here is a puzzle about which I have been giving ponderance . . .
How is it that when we’re trying to get out the door — putting on shoes/jackets, loading instruments/music/etc. into the car, checking the stove — the clock can jump 20 minutes in a blink, so that we’re suddenly verging on lateness,
during the waiting time between musically leading the procession of Portuguese Festival participants to the Mission and when we led them back to the staging area, we were able to walk in a leisurely manner back to the car, drink water, sit for a bit, relax, and 5 minutes felt like half an hour?