Weekend Roundup

Good morning, Internets. It was a busy weekend.

Friday afternoon: Finish printing the ms. and start reading through it with a pen in hand. It does not suck as much as I’d feared. I suspect I’ll throw out about fifteen pages, or at least fit the info in elsewhere (probably in dialogue with someone). It’s the kind of thing that was necessary for me to write to understand where things were coming from, but not necessary for the reader.

Friday night: Awesome cello lesson. I’m getting it.

Saturday morning: HRH dismantles the upper bunk of the boy’s bed (AKA the tree fort, where a lot of the boy’s playthings are stored) in preparation for a new shelving/storage system to be put at the foot of his bed. Then, IKEA! As soon as the store opens, when there is still parking by the door and almost no one inside. The boy requests the ball room, and we sign him in for the first time and head off to reconnoitre on our own, feeling vaguely like we’re skipping school or something like that. The shelving unit and bins we are here to pick up are actually in stock. We collect the boy, who has a bump on his head from running into someone round the corner of the play structure. He has a mild breakdown when he is informed that it’s time to go. (Sign of Things Having Gone Well: floods of tears when it’s over.) Off to Best Buy so HRH can pick up yet another cell phone and a copy of 101 Dalmatians on DVD. We stop by the bookstore and buy two books for the boy, then bring home hot dogs and fries to eat while we watch the film.

Saturday afternoon: I stumble to the bedroom with a suspiciously threatening pain in my head, and nap after taking some headache candy. The boy does not nap, although HRH convinces him to have quiet time in his room for an hour or so. I take more headache candy. When the edge of what has revealed itself to be a migraine has been taken off, we head out to our goddaughter’s seventh birthday party, which she has planned as a singalong for family. With the help of a glass of wine, I enjoy myself more than I’d cautiously expected to. The boy makes new friends with the children of an old friend of mine (we are all touched when the two youngest hug gently before leaving). This old friend, another scion of an ex-pat UK family, gives me a roll of Polos and a Cadbury Flake, making me squeal.

Saturday night: Major discovery! I can eat the Cadbury Flake without having an allergic reaction to the chocolate! This further confirms my suspicion that the sensitivity responds to the proportion of cocoa solids to butter/cream/other stuff. Alas, dark chocolate; I loved you well, but circumstances force me to turn to milk chocolate for comfort and indulgence.

Sunday morning: HRH and the boy assemble the shelving system and slide the bins into it. It’s terrific. We watch 101 Dalmatians for the second time in less than 24 hours. Good thing it’s still among my top three favourite Disney films today, and was my very favourite while growing up. HRH heads out to do a landscaping consultation for Ceri and Scott, and the boy and I go along to make use of the play structure. There is soccer and much swinging and sliding and finding of bugs and playing a new game called “the running around the trees game.” (I told you, my almost-four year old is terribly original when it comes to naming things.) The boy learns the valuable lesson of the necessity of holding on to the chains of a swing while you’re at the apex of your arc.

Sunday afternoon: The boy naps for just under two hours. Wiktory! He heads out to help HRH in the garden, expanding the vegetable plot, turning compost into the soil, watering the plants, and so forth. I head out for my monthly group cello lesson where we work on ensemble pieces for the upcoming recital. For some reason I can’t get comfortable with the length of my endpin or the angle of my cello. I blow stupidly easy shifts when I’m playing solo (naturally). Moral of the story: Revisit your ensemble pieces regularly, even if the last time you played them they were easy and note-perfect.

Sunday evening: Dinner is leftover roast beef (yes, the mystery roast was beef, and oh ye gods it was tender and delicious), sliced and stir-fried with mushrooms, done in a cream mushroom gravy, served over wild rice. (“Oh-oh, this rice is bad,” says the boy, picking out the black ones. We reassure him that it’s not, that it’s special rice. He nibbles it and says, “Oh, yes! It is good!”) The beef is just as delicious the second time. And there’s enough for one more meal, too.

I woke up a lot last night. Not the best night of sleep.

Today: More editing, and finally doing the last bit of hunting for exchange rates that I need to finish up the taxes.

Today’s List

1. There are fifteen crocuses in the front garden.

2. There are ants in the laundry room. (Items one plus two = spring.)

3. Cautiously working my way through a few pieces of a Lindt Petits Desserts Chocolate Mousse bar. No adverse reaction as of yet, and it’s been half an hour. Encouraging, as the dark chocolate reaction was immediate burning on the tongue.

4. The boy waved vigorously to the metro drivers on our trip downtown and received surprised and delighted waves in return.

5. A quarter of the way through printing Orchestrated and all’s well. I had saved it to a USB key and taken it to the local print shop to get it done, but remembered while I was in line that I’d used comments. When you print a document with comments it shrinks the text and forces the page into the upper left corner to fit the comments in the right margin, which wastes a lot of paper and makes the text almost impossible to read. I bought more printer paper and came home to do it myself in twenty-page increments after stripping the comments out. Neither ink nor paper nor printer have caused issues so far. (Printing large documents usually causes problems of some kind for me.)

Aha, just as I expected; low ink. Argh. Had to happen at some point. Well, I have some in the cupboard, along with the syringe; I’ll refill it and that will be that.

Success!

Because I know you’re all on the edge of your seats, the two final takes of the entire script were great. I think it has more to do with recording them in the living room rather than my office, but the change in register and expression didn’t hurt. So he’s got at least four takes of each track to choose from, and he can edit or adjust them as he pleases.

The boy and I are going downtown in about forty-five minutes to hand in the work (and be paid, woohoo!), then we pick Grandma up at the hospital after some tests and take her and the boy to her house. The rest of the day is work for me, and as everything else is off my plate, that means I get to print out Orchestrated and start reading. I’m looking forward to it.

Argh…

I have to re-record them all. My voice level is too low, and my tone is too low too.

I only managed to find this out after trying to connect it to my computer, failing every way I tried, going online and looking up the manual, pulling the SD card out of it, putting it into my card reader and finding a USB port that would accept it. (Time wasted: one hour.) It sounded fine over the headphones plugged directly to the unit. I’m glad I double-checked.

Well, I guess I know what I’m doing tonight once the boy’s asleep. With a large glass of red wine, I might add. (It’s good to work at home.)

Potpourri

The monthly post about the boy is up and backdated.

First rehearsal with the new test conductor last night, and what fun. He had us playing the Schubert passably in pretty much no time at all. He’s younger than I thought (by quite a bit) and an oboist. We were missing an oboe so he pulled his out and wandered around playing the oboe theme while conducting. It was mildly alarming to have an oboist wander at you at various points, but it certainly encouraged each section to play out when they were supposed to. He greeted us in French and talked to us equally in both languages, which impressed us. I already like his musicality and his personality. There were grumpy people making their grumpiness known, but that’s not unusual, alas.

Best news of the night: One of the pieces he’s considering programming is Ralph Vaughn Williams’ English Folk Song suite! I bounced in my chair with excitement. (Otherwise I sat there in mild pain, because the particular chair I was in slanted nastily toward the back. Ugh. Time to look into one of those firm wedge cushions.)

I need to do two more takes of six brief sections of dialogue for this recording, then I’m going to hook it all up to the computer and listen to it. I’ve already noted which takes I need to delete because of an error on my part or noise interference (like helpful cats scratching or jumping up onto my desk and scattering papers). I fervently hope everything’s okay, because if not I have to do the whole thing over twice tonight once the boy’s in bed, and I don’t do work after the boy’s in bed very well. The boy and I are headed downtown tomorrow morning to ride on the underground train to hand this in.

This morning’s excitement included being addressed by a policeman, who pulled up next to my car while I was unlocking it after dropping the boy off. How long had I been there, he wanted to know, and was I not aware that I wasn’t allowed to park on this side of the street between nine and four? I blinked, looked at the signage, and pointed out respectfully that the signs indicated that motorists were supposed to park here between nine and four on a Thursday, and that in fact all the cars on the opposite side of the street were parked illegally. He looked at the signs, looked back at me, said, “T’as raison, j’ai mal identifié le côté de la rue,” and gave me a huge grin. I laughed and wished him a good day. There was such a difference between his neutral opening words and the tone of his reply to me. He must encounter argument and abuse pretty much regularly, so to have someone correct him politely must be quite a novelty. He gave me another huge grin once his partner had turned the car around and was headed back down the hill toward all the illegally parked cars. I think I made their day.

In Which She Natters About Cello Stuff, With A Side Of Diary

It’s confirmed: we’re trying out a third conductor tonight! And I am very happy because there was a bit of kerfuffle about memberships dues not covering what this conductor requested as his fee, but the majority of members were okay with paying a supplement to obtain his services for this concert. If we decide he’s the one for us then membership fees will go up, and I’m perfectly fine with that; we pay a ridiculously low fee as it is, and more than doubling it only brings us to ten dollars per month the orchestra plays each year. If he’s as good as his reputation suggests he is, we’d be getting a real deal. Also, audiences would increase because of his affiliation with other musical events and organisations, and our recruiting of new members would also increase. There’s a lot of potential here.

Apparently we are playing Schubert’s third symphony as the main course for the July concert. So naturally, while looking for audio reference, I discovered that I own only the first, second, and fourth symphonies. I went away and thought about it for a while, then remembered that I’d bought a full six-symphony set the last time we did a Schubert symphony (the fifth?), because the set was less expensive than a single CD with the fifth on it. I had to hunt it out, though. It wasn’t with my other Schubert CDs. I blame the boy, who used to pull CDs out and then reshelve them in interesting new places. I checked my records and apparently I’ve played Schubert’s third before. I have no memory of it, but then, it was in 2003, which was six years ago. However I played it then, chances are rather good that I’ll play it much better now.

I am so very excited to be working with this conductor.

I dragged myself out of the maudlin cold-heavy apathy yesterday to go down town for a meeting about this meditation recording gig. I now have the equipment and some reference DVDs to inspire my delivery of the script. It was a beautiful sunny day, and I came home in a better mood than I’d left, and feeling much healthier, too. I practised not once but twice, the second time with a strict metronome set at ruthless performance speed. I uploaded vacation photos. I opened windows (HRH took the plastic off the front living room Wall of Glass, huzzah!). I made a delicious pot of chicken cacciatore (for some reason, there are never any leftovers). And I set up the breadmaker to start its thing at three in the morning so we’d all have fresh bread at breakfast (because I forgot to make it the regular way yesterday and there wasn’t enough time for me to make it last night before I passed out).

Today: Recording, laundry, celloing, doing something with the shoulder roast that’s defrosting. I can’t even remember if it’s beef or pork (it’s from the organic farmers, so doesn’t have a label beyond ‘shoulder roast’), although I suspect it is pork.

And shh, don’t make any sudden moves: I’ve actually been starting to think about Orchestrated with more interest again. The month away from it killed my momentum. I’m not sure whether to print the first draft out and read it while making notes longhand, or just go back to the beginning of the file and start work. I may just print out the first two chapters, as those are the ones that need the most rearranging.

Back

Lovely Easter weekend with my parents. I am now ill, of course. The boy left with what we thought were allergies on Friday and arrived there with a cold, so naturally I caught it, and have it worse than he did. Add to that the general malaise my body experiences after two six-hour car rides within four days, and you have a very unhappy me. We almost kept the boy home from school today but decided against it, and I’m so thankful. Not only do I have a work meeting downtown at 12:30, I’m wiped (see above re. sick and fibro-related backlash from the weekend) and suspect I wouldn’t be able to handle him on my own with much success.

The boy’s monthly post should have gone up on the weekend but it wasn’t finished, and I’m scrambling to handle more pressing stuff, so as much as I’d like to do that today it won’t happen.

A brief summary of the weekend: Much broken sleep for all three of us, successful clothes shopping on Saturday afternoon, coffee out with Fey of The Dark Side of Fey podcast and her husband on Saturday night (much excellent discussion of spirituality and community and such things, she’s a girl after my own heart and I adore her), taking a trip to see the local flock of trumpeter and mute swans Sunday morning, time with family and a lovely roast beef dinner on Sunday afternoon, taking the 407 toll highway home to avoid the 401 through Toronto (o 407 how we love thee, we shall never ever forsake thee despite thy toll).

I wish it was a day where I could get away with just lying on the chesterfield with a box of Kleenex, a book, and a cat, but the real world calls.