Dark morning today. Clouded over, gusts of wind, but eerily quiet. The only birds I heard were a crow or two. There were light, icy flakes of snow hitting my face, but I couldn't see them in the air; it almost felt like blackflies during peak season, but it's definitely too early for that.
Just a few tired patches of snow left. I know better than to imagine we're done with it, though. There could be a big dump of snow even in April.
There's a weird sense of tedium to this recent stretch of mornings. For almost two weeks now the thermometer has been within a few degrees of 32 every time I check before going outside. It's almost like we're in a long holding pattern before something else finally happens.
The dogs were set in motion again by a scent all over the back field that even I could detect. I'm hoping that they're all smart enough not to get skunked one of these spring evenings, but that's another futile hope, I suppose. We'll be ready with our handy bottle of "Skunk Kleen."
Speaking of skunks - the woman who picked up Heidi and Pepper had just finished cleaning her sprayed dog when she came to get the goats, so now when I think of skunks I think of Heidi and Pepper. First report is that they are adjusting well - happy in their new home and getting to know sheep for the first time.
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The middle and high schools both succeeded in qualifying to go on to the state show choir competition last night. So T. and I will both continue working on our piano accompaniment parts. Her high school pit band is terrific; I think they and their show choir will do well. I made it through my part as well, in spite of a poorly timed hot flash which had me tearing off my sweater in between numbers. I had to shed it quickly before I tackled Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious at lightning speed, which brings me to a sweat even in the best of times.
T. and I got laughing the other day about how piano playing can feel like an athletic event. There are particular moves that are especially difficult, and you dread their approach, wondering if you'll be able to execute them successfully. We pictured the olympic announcer:
"That sixteenth run in G flat is coming up, followed by two quick triplets, one of the tougher moves in this event. She looks a little tentative....OH! A little stutter, she'll lose a couple of points for that..."
Here's a great (farcical) piece of music that T. gave me for Christmas a couple of years ago. Extreme piano. Whenever I think what I'm working on is hard, I look at this:
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