Last night we had a party to celebrate the 10th anniversary of the dedication of our current building, which was built after the 1994 Earthquake demolished the old one. At least half of the people who were there last night were those who went through the agonizing process at the time, working long hours on a common project while many themselves had their own homes seriously damaged and concurrently under repair.

No wonder the old timers have such a proprietary interest in this builing! Each of them spoke about their past dreams for a new building--earthquake proof (of course!), modern kitchen, great acoustics, lifetime floor of some indestructible material that looks like wood, floor-to-ceiling windows, and so on.

One bit that I didn't know about until last night is that the odd shape of the building is a direct result of the desire to keep the ancient olive tree undamaged. The tree is old and gnarly, but very much alive, and the only consensus achieved at 100% was that whatever was constructed, the olive not be cut down or restricted. So the old tree stands, a mute witness to earthquake and survival.

The party was held, at my instigation, on Epiphany (old Episcopalian habits die hard). Several dates were put forward in a lackadaisical manner, so when I advocated for January 6, the date was set with a sigh of relief from the group that someone had a preference.

We don't observe Epiphany formally (we're not that kind of church, and I'm not that kind of girl), but now we'll have some other reason to party on (or near) that date.

Subversives, speak up. You have nothing to lose but your timidity.