(And leaving the story one more time...)
Well, my plan was to finish the first part of the tale long before the next installment began, but I wasn't fast enough. Sometimes my involvement at the synagogue feels like walking through Oz--a wonderful mystery, but you never know what might transpire. It's always good, however. This morning, along with a member of the choir, I helped make a rehearsal CD of the High Holiday choir's alto part. (I'll also be sitting in with them when I can, since their numbers are low this time around.)
Right before we started, the cantor said, oh--I haven't decided what parts of the service you'll be leading, but can you come to a Yom Kippur rehearsal? We have some new instrumentalists and need to get an early start. (Yom Kippur isn't until the middle of October.)
Of course, I answered. When?
Yikes. I can't make it today, I said, but...
Or tomorrow, or next week, he added. So I signed up for Wednesday, which means that this weekend I have to make sure I still remember everything. And a quick review of the machzor once I got back home revealed, unfortunately, that a sizeable chunk of Yom Kippur didn't quite make it past my short-term memory and over to the permanent-storage area. The cantor will be at the rehearsal, too, unlike last year (a part of the story I really will tell, one of these weeks), so of course I'll be flustered and nervous for no good reason. But that's OK.