rinue | No human's heart, however, can conceive

For the past few weeks, we've had our milk and eggs delivered by a dairy down the road. The last time that was true when I was a kid in England, and then it was left outside the door and the bottles had foil caps, and sometimes if it was cold the cream would freeze and you could fish it out, and sometimes if it wasn't cold the sparrows would peck through the lid. This dairy uses more secure plastic lids, and their chocolate milk tastes like melted fudgsicles.

Went to the symphony today for a performance of Bach's St John Passion. Very beautifully sung, and quite a moving piece. This is a hard time of year for me liturgically because of the build to the Resurrection, which is generally regarded as the most important and joyful moment in Christianity, but which makes me think about how sad dying is. (I technically don't disbelieve in an afterlife; I just don't believe in one either. So it's depressing to be told how lucky I am to have been saved from worrying about all that.)

It hadn't occurred to me that the Boston musical community has close ties to Japan, but of course it does; Seiji Ozawa directed the symphony for many years, and many conductors and soloists travel between the two countries. There was a moment of silence for those dead and missing in the earthquake and aftermath, and collections were taken afterward.