Who? What? When? Where? Why?

Yesterday I called my dermatologist's office to make an appointment to get all my little thingies (that's the proper medical term, right?) zapped. The next available appointment is February 12, 2008.

I've been putting out résumés for over a year now. Can you imagine how hard it is for me to imagine still being here in February?

Today I put a number of résumés in to positions in D.C. One is for a web administrator position with Chorus America. My friend Robin Perry Allen works there and agrees with me that I'm probably overqualified, but would love to see me work there. Then I started looking at condos and apartments in the area. Hey, I could get a thousand-square-foot studio apartment in Alexandria for a mere $1450 per month.

Why is there no easy answer? Why is there no quick answer?

I'm trying to be patient, but I don't like it at all.

Christmas Card 2007

My beautiful and talented Jaci took my annual Christmas card photo on Friday night. Do you know how hard it is to get a 6- and 4-year-old to smile nicely for the camera. Simultaneously? My head is tipped because I was trying to get Ridley to behave, and tickling her so she would smile cutely, not grotesquely.

Jaci has her work cut out for her, choosing this as her occupation.

Love is

I'm home now. I arrived late Saturday night and spent all day Sunday in bed. I am still suffering from the cold I came down with as soon as I hit Youngstown. I'm not feeling well and feel I have nothing of interest to say, but saved something from the Writer's Almanac last week to share with you.

The Nearness That Is All

Love's what Shakespeare never
said by saying, "You have
bereft me of all words, lady."

Love is the man who siphoned
phlegm from his ill wife's throat
three times a day for seven
years.

Love's what the Arabs
mean when they bless those
with children: "May God keep them
for you."

Or why a mother
whispers to her suckling, "May you
bury me."

Love's how the ten-year
widow speaks of her buried
husband in the present tense.

Love lets the man with one leg
and seven children envy no man
living and none dead.

Love
leaves no one alone but, oh,
lonely, lonelier, loneliest
at midnight in another country.

Love is jealousy's mother
and father.

Love's how death
creates a different nearness
but kills nothing.

Love
makes lovers rise from each
loving wanting more.

Love
says impossibility's possible
always.

Love saddens glad
days for no bad reason.

Love gladdens sad days
for no good reason.

Love
mocks equivalence.

Love is.

"The Nearness That Is All" by Samuel Hazo, from A Flight to Elsewhere. © Autumn House Press, 2005.

Let It Snow!

Here's what the world looked like when I woke up this morning. I froze my hand brushing snow off the car so I could take les bebes to McD's for breakfast. I'm loving every minute of this weather!

At breakfast I recounted to the babies what the day's schedule would be—belated Thanksgiving dinner at the Gould's; Art Youngstown tonight for their opening exhibition, where Jaci has two photographs on display; Grandma bring the babies home and put them to bed; Grandma get up early in the morning and leave. Boston's face suddenly turned cloudy. How lucky I am to be so loved and so wanted.

Happy Turkey!

Wishing you all a lovely day with family and friends. I am thankful for your friendship and support as I live on my own personal roller coaster.

Dreaming the Impossible Dream

I mentioned that I had been talking to the people at Turning Technologies about the Internal Development Manager position they had posted. I was expecting a phone interview to take place last week or the week before with the VP of Operations and then an in-person interview this week. It's now the day before Thanksgiving and neither of those events has occurred.

Last night I dreamed I got back to Tucson and told my colleagues how disappointed I was not to have gotten this interview. Raj then came to me and brought me three IBM shirts with my name embroidered on them, telling me he had sponsored me for IBM employment. (Trust me. It ain't that easy. Nor is it likely to happen, as Raj tends, culturally, to not like women in the workplace. At least, that's the sense several of us get.) I was so thrilled, in my dream, as this meant I could begin telecommuting and be with my family again.

Oh well. One foot in front of the other.

It must have been the NyQuil talking in my dreams.

Ah-choo!

Almost as soon as I got to Youngstown, I caught a cold. I'll post again when I'm feeling better.

Utter Bliss

I'm home. In Washington. Home.

I snoozed a little on the plane from DFW. When I woke up, I looked down and saw mountains. Mountains! Square mile after square mile of forested mountains. After watching for a few minutes, I realized we were over the Blue Ridge Mountains. I saw mountaintops dusted with snow. And I saw Skyline Drive, where I have hiked. I saw the Shenandoah River, where I have canoed. I saw fall leaves from above. We flew over horse country and then swung around and came up the Potomac. Gorgeous fall Washington day, flying into my city fills me with elation.

I arrived at National around 4:00, picked up a cute little white Grand Prix, and headed down 395 to the Marriott Courtyard Pentagon South. When I got to the exit (slowly, Friday afternoon traffic plus a three-van accident on 395), I decided to go over to Northern Virginia Community College to find Schlesinger Hall while it was still daylight. As I drove past the hall, I saw an old friend walking in and called hello to her.

Then went to my hotel, where they didn't have a reservation for me. Oh, guess I forgot to make the reservation! I've never done that before. Quickly made a reservation, and they put me in a lovely room on the top floor. As I walked into my room, I could see through the west-facing window the purple sunset. Gorgeous, fall sunset.

I quickly changed clothes and went back over to the hall, where I received hug after hug from friends I've known for 23 years. It was wonderful. Once they went on stage to warm up, I ran to get some dinner, then came back to the hall to see more old friends.

The concert was fabulous. The orchestra came on, then the concertmaster entered and they tuned. Then the chorus filed in and the audience started applauding, and continued applauding until the entire chorus was onstage. The chorus sat. then the soloists and Bob Shafer entered. The audience applauded at great length. Bob then spoke to the audience, thanking them for attending the premier concert of The City Choir of Washington and spoke for a few minutes about the work that was being performed.

Then he turned around and started the concert, and all I could think was this man has so much music still inside him, how could the Washington Chorus board ever think he was ready to step down and be emeritus?!

When the intermission ended and the chorus reentered, again the audience applauded. When the chorus was all in place, the applause swelled and continued for a minute or so.

The instant the last note was sung, there were shouts of "Bravo" and cheers and applause that went on and on.

As the concert was drawing to a close, all I could think of was what we had all gone through for the past year to arrive at tonight's concert. A lot of tears have been shed, a lot of anger has been felt, and it all paid off. All the work came down to one fabulous concert and a great deal of joy.

It's about time!

My New Philosophy

Today I'm feeding you two songs that may or may not be new to you.

The first is from the Broadway musical "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown" and is entitled "My New Philosophy." I accompanied a darling 13-year-old girl who sang this with lots of verve last Friday night.

[SALLY]
"oh, yeah. That's what you think."

[SCHROEDER]
What?

[SALLY]
That's my new philosophy: "Oh, yeah?
That's what you think!"

[SCHROEDER]
Well, why are you telling me?

[SALLY]
What?

[SCHROEDER]
Why are you telling me?

[SALLY]
"Why are you telling me?" I like it!
That's a good philosophy: "Why are you telling me?"
Why are you telling me?"

"Why are you telling me?"
My new philosophy
The teacher gave a "D" on last week's homework
She said, "Miss Sally Brown,
Your grades are going down."
I could have told her-

[SCHROEDER]
You new philosophy?

[SALLY]
My new philosophy!
[as teacher]
Miss B?
[as herself]
I'm she

Look see.
A "D?"
A "D."
Well, why are telling me?
And that's my new philosophy!

[SCHROEDER]
That's your new philosophy?

[SALLY]
Why are you telling me?
My new philosophy!

[SCHROEDER]
That's great, Sally, but I've gotta go practice Chopin's
Nocturne in B-Flat minor.

[SALLY]
No!! I like it! "No!" That's a good philosophy.
"No!" "No!" "No!"

[SCHROEDER]
That's your new philosophy, huh?

[SALLY]
Yes. I mean-- "No!"
Just like a busy bee
Each new philosophy
Can fly from tree to tree and keep me moving
When life's a dizzy maze
On alternating days
I choose a different phrase-

[SCHROEDER]
Your new philosophy?

[SALLY]
My new philosophy!

[SCHROEDER]
Sally!
Some philosophies are simple:
"Man does not eat by bread alone."
Some philosophies are clear:

[SALLY]
"Leave your message at the sound of the tone."

[BOTH]
Some philosophies pick and choose
Deciding what goes in it.

[SCHROEDER]
Some take a lifetime,

[SALLY]
Mine take a minute.

[SCHROEDER]
But, Sally, anything that takes only a minute can't be
very lasting. For instance, Beethoven took over two years
to complete his brilliant Ninth SYmphony.

[SALLY]
"No!"

[SCHROEDER]
I can't stand it!

[SALLY]
"I can't stand it!" I like it!
It's like a guarantee.
My new philosophy.
And things are sure to be a whole lot brighter
"Oh, yeah? That's what you think!"
"Why are you telling me?"
"No!"
"I can't stand it!"
Now life is free and easy,
Much more philosophy-zy,
With my brand new-

You know, someone had said that we should live every day as
if it were the last day of our life.

[LUCY (passing by and overhearing)]
Aaugh! This is the last day!! This is it!! I only have
twenty-four hours left!! Help me! Help me! This is the last
day!! Aaugh!

[SALLY]
Clearly, some philosophies aren't for all people.
And that's my new philosophy!

And the today I was listening to my "Basia" station on Pandora.com and the song "Cancer," recorded by Joe Jackson in 1982 came onto my playlist.

This song is a follow-on to my recent post about wine and weight — are they good or are they bad. Basically, we're all going to die, sooner or later, one way or another. This song brought a smile to my face.

Everything
Everything gives you cancer
Everything
Everything gives you cancer
There's no cure, there's no answer
Everything gives you cancer

Don't touch that dial
Don't try to smile
Just take this pill
It's in your file

Don't work hard
Don't play hard
Don't plan for the graveyard
Remember -

Everything
Everything gives you cancer
Everything
Everything gives you cancer
There's no cure, there's no answer
Everything gives you cancer

Don't work by night
Don't play by day
You'll feel all right
But you will pay

No caffeine
No protein
No booze or
Nicotine
Remember -

Lest you think I've become suddenly mean and cruel, lighten up. That's all this post is about: lightening up, taking life a little less seriously.

Having It All

I'm reading Cathie Black's "Basic Black," a business handbook written primarily for women, but of use to anyone who darkens an office door.

She talks about "having it all," of the need for women to have it all in their lives. But she says you have to define what "all" is. The better term she uses is "360 degree" life.

For some women, having it all means children-spouse-career-friends and success in all areas. But the definition of "all" need not be the same for everyone.

That got me to thinking about what my "all" is. For me it's being available for my children, being involved in the lives of my grandchildren, having a job where I feel my performance is respected, having the opportunity to make music, and having the opportunity to be creative with fiber. Wow, that's a lot. I also think I want a man in my life, to some undefined extent, but when I look at that list (and when I look at my calendar!), I'm not sure where he would fit in.

What is your definition of "all?"

One Colossal Oops!

My friend Jill and I have a little shared history with e-mails sent too hastily, almost getting us in very hot water. But our little "some people can't read" e-mail was nothing compared to the e-mail that Washington Post music critic Tim Page sent recently. Trust me, he will not win a second Pulitzer for this write.

Truly, anyone who has been exposed to Marion Barry and his shady politics and his lack of moral values knows the man is a total and complete jackass. But I think Tim Page must have been having a very, very bad day to have hit "Send" on this one.

The Ultimate Compliment

I was going to leave Scottsdale after I was finished with my accompanying duties on Saturday, but sweet 17yo Jaimie from "Why We Tell the Story" was scheduled to perform in the master class and asked me to stay and hear her.

As I stood talking to Jaimie, one of the other little girls from Magic Voice Studios said they wanted me to stay around. She said, "we decided we like you."

It only took me forty years to be popular with high school girls!

Better late than never!!

Response to "Not dead yet"

Today's Real Simple quote:
Even if happiness forgets you a little bit, never completely forget about it.
-Jacques Prévert

I guess I'm not dead yet

I went into Paradise Bakery & Cafe for lunch on Saturday afternoon. A handful of gorgeous, impeccably dressed and groomed men were dining alone. I noticed.

I thought, maybe I should pursue that job in Scottsdale that was proposed to me by a headhunter last week.

But while I was driving around Scottsdale, surrounded by hundreds of cars, I remembered what it's like to live in locations with constant heavy traffic. I don't enjoy that.

So many factors to balance. Finding someone to be with versus being with my family versus the lure of big cities versus the downsides of big cities.

But it was interesting to me, after stating maybe I'm done with relationships, to have my radar on alert seeing these gorgeous men.

A Study in Contrasts

The Scene: Marriott Suites in Old Town Scottsdale, dining room, Saturday morning

I sit eating my granola with yogurt and berries and sipping a cup of tea. I have brought nothing to read, so I continually glance around, taking in the participants.

To my right are two couples, appearing to be in their 40s, plates filled with eggs, bacon, sausage, ham and hash browns. The men are overweight, wearing baggy shorts, NASCAR-themed t-shirts and ball caps. (Whatever became of men removing their hats in the dining room?) The very blond wife of one man gestures and points with her fork as she talks and eats.

Across the room is another couple, in their 60s. They exude elegance. He wears a black long-sleeved button-down shirt, black slacks and shoes. He sips his coffee as he reads the Wall Street Journal. She has a mass of lovely naturally-grayed hair, poufed delicately up into a topknot on the back of her head. She wears a rich blue shirt, collar turned up to frame her face. Her light tan slacks are cinched with a patterned fabric belt. On her feet are the most beautiful caramel ghillies with tan trouser socks. As they wait for their breakfast to arrive, she sips her tea and checks her agenda on her PDA.

Such is life in the Valley on the weekend of the Checker Auto Parts 500 at the Phoenix International Raceway. Scottsdale is known for its money and class. But a NASCAR event brings visitors from far and wide, finding hotel rooms wherever they can. Mixing up the demographics.

(Question: I understand how an airport gets to be international — flights arrive there from other countries. But how does a raceway get to be "international"?!)

Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to go make music. You see on which side of the demographics I'm situated!

P.S. As I reread this before clicking "Publish," I have to reveal that I've been to NASCAR events. I've been once to the Daytona 500 and twice to the Daytona 250. My dad and oldest brother were/are both big race fans. I always told Daddy he had to invite Mother to go, and she never accepted. (See how I want everyone to always feel included? How sick is that?!) But every time I was asked, I went. So this post is not about putting down anyone's lifestyle. It's just about the variety, the spice, of the human race.

Gimme an O! Gimme an R! . . .

What's that spell? ORGANIZED!

God spare me from having to deal with disorganized people!

I got to Chaparral Christian Church a little around 6:30 this evening, knowing the first student I was scheduled to accompany was on at 7:35. The teacher I'm working for, Stevie Fox, was in the lobby of the main building. She said, "Thank God you're here." (Oh, I feel a primetime comedy show coming on.) She was surrounded by little singers, so I sat down, turned on my iPod, and refreshed my ear on the ten pieces I had to play tonight.

At about 7:05, I noticed Stevie had disappeared without a word to me. One of the girls who was singing tonight stuck kinda close to me, said she didn't know where Stevie was, but took me to where the rest of my little girls were waiting. I directed them to the room where they were to perform. At the appointed time we went in, not knowing if we were the next ones to perform. Stevie hadn't told me anything about protocol, and this was the first time I had accompanied singers for a NATS competition.

One of my five girls wasn't there yet. When number three of my five finished singing, in walked number five with her mother and younger sister, dragging a suitcase. Seems Stevie hadn't given her the name or address of the performance venue. The mother had walked into the lobby of the hotel and overheard someone talking about the church.

We got through it. The five little girls (ages 12 and 13) did fine, and I got out of there alive. Stevie was still nowhere to be seen. I drove to the hotel where we were to stay, knowing that I was to share a room with Stevie. The woman at the desk had no record of my name and couldn't give me a key until Stevie showed up — and I had no clue when that would be. So I drove to Nordstrom and looked at brown shoes for half an hour. I drove back up to the hotel, parked for a moment and, frustrated, punched "Marriott" into my GPS system. Then I called the Marriott Suites in Old Town Scottsdale and asked if they had a room. They looked up my account and said, yes, they had a room for me and they would make it an executive room. Woo woo. All those points pay off.

I drove the seven minutes to the Marriott and checked in. Opening the door to my room, I walked into a living room that contained, not a sofa, but a six-person conference table! Remember how Cheryl and I keep getting upgraded at the Marriott Marquis? I think this may be the ultimate upgrade! The table is so large I could have slept there rather than this elegant king bed.

And to bring this post back around to being single, the thing I missed the most this evening was having someone to call to complain or laugh or commiserate with. And then I realized that I could pull out my laptop and write this post and you'd all laugh and moan with me.

And I can hear you toasting me for taking care of myself.

Thanks!

Tomorrow morning at 10:00 I will go back up and accompany three more students, then walk around Nordstrom a little longer and head back to Tucson for afternoon tea at Tohono Chul with some Pi Phi friends.

How Many Friends Does One Girl Need?

My musical friend Lissa shared with me the music to the show "Closer Than Ever." I laugh every time I listen to the song "You Want to Be My Friend?". So in my hyper-busy and preoccupied mode, and wanting to give you something to read today, I've given you the lyrics to this inspired song. (I apologize for the caps. Here's the code: Text in mixed case below is spoken; text in all-caps is sung.)

Enjoy! I'm off to Scottsdale in a couple of hours to play sixteen show tunes for eight voice students. I'll be back tomorrow evening after getting my Nordstrom fix and attending a Pi Phi tea at Tohono Chul Park.

Enjoy!

You Want To Be My Friend?
MAN
YOU'RE SO GOOD
YOU'RE TOO GOOD FOR ME YOU ARE
YOU'RE THE BEST DAMNED PERSON
I HAVE KNOWN BY FAR
IF I COULD,
YOU KNOW I'D NEVER THROW THIS CURVE
YOU'RE A GODDESS
AND I'M NOT WHAT YOU DESERVE
WHAT I AM SAYING IS
OUR THING MUST END
BUT THOUGH IT MUST
I WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND

WOMAN
Friend? Friend?
YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND?
YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND?
OH, THAT'S NICE
YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND

I HAVE FRIENDS I KNOW FROM COLLEGE
HIGH SCHOOL PALS THAT I STILL SEE
I HAVE SISTERS IN SOROR'TIES
'CROSS THE COUNTRY FOND OF ME
TWO CHUMS THAT DATE FROM GRADE SCHOOL
ONE WHOLE FAM'LY FROM ST. PAUL
THERE ARE KIDS I KNOW FROM SUMMER CAMP WHO STILL GIVE ME A CALL
I HAVE FRIENDS FROM WHEN I LIVED IN PARIS
AND MY SINGLES CRUISE
I HAVE FIVE OLD BOYFRIENDS WHO STILL CALL ME UP TO SCHMOOZE
I HAVE BUDDIES FROM THE LAB IN BOSTON
COLLEAGUES FROM THE ZOO
I'VE GOT AN AUNT IN CLEVELAND
THAT I ALWAYS CAN TURN TO

I GOT ENOUGH FRIENDS!!!

MAN
(Perhaps I should be going)

WOMAN
You stay right there.

YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND
YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND
WELL I'M TOUCHED
YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND

I WANT A LOVER AND A HUSBAND
AND A PARTNER AND A SPOUSE
I WANT SOMEONE TO SPLIT EXPENSES WITH ME
ON A SUMMER HOUSE

I WANT A FATHER FOR MY UNBORN CHILDREN
SOMEONE WHO'S IN TUNE
AND SINCE I'LL BE THIRTY-NINE NEXT MONTH
I WANT HIM RATHER SOON
I WANT SOMEONE TO BUY RUGS AND LAMPS WITH
SOMEONE WHO'LL CO-SIGN
I WANT A SMALL JOINT BANK ACCOUNT
IN HIS NAME AND IN MINE

I NEED SOMEONE I CAN FIGHT WITH
LEARN TO COOK WITH
LOVE TO FEED
COME TO THINK OF IT
THERE'S ONLY ONE THING THAT I DO NOT NEED

I DON'T NEED ANOTHER FRIEND!!!

MAN 2
(I really should be going ...)

You stay right there!
(You're right, I deserve this you're such
a wonderful person and I'm such a...)

I DON'T NEED TO HEAR FROM YOU I'M PERFECT
THEN END UP ALL WET
I AM TIRED OF BEING THE GREATEST GIRL
A MAN HAS EVER MET
(But I don't want to make a commitment to you)
HA! CAN'T YOU SEE?
YOU DON'T WANT TO TELL THE TRUTH, OH NO
YOU JUST WANT OUT FROM ME
YES, I KNOW INSIDE YOU'RE FRAGILE
YES, YOU'RE MOTHER WAS A MESS
IF THAT'S WHY YOU CAN'T RECEIVE A WOMAN'S LOVE
I COULD CARE LESS.
I DON'T NEED TO KNOW IT'S YOUR FAULT
HAVE SOME BALLS
IT DOESN'T FIT
YOU'RE NOT SICK, DEPRIVED, MISUNDERSTOOD OR WEAK
YOU'RE JUST A SHIT!
AND YOU WANNA BE MY FRIEND
WHO'D WANT YOU AS A FRIEND?

Is my name on this lease?
Huh?
Is my name on this lease?
Yeah.

Then get out of my apartment!!

Whodya Believe?

Did you see the news earlier this week that an extra twenty-five pounds is a good thing? What?!

Medical "experts" have been telling us for several years to get the weight off, that there's a national epidemic of overweight. And now they say a little extra cushioning can help us fight illness better.

A few years ago we were told a glass of wine a day can help ensure heart health and fight cancer. Then we're told it can contribute to breast cancer.

I'm depressed about my living situation. When I'm depressed, I eat. I try to watch what I eat, but then I end up with a headache, which makes me sick to my stomach, which makes me want something creamy or salty. And then my weight doesn't fall off, and I get depressed about my weight.

A Pi Phi friend just ran the NYC marathon. She's in her upper 30s, I believe. And all her training makes her lean as a rail. And then her older, motherly friends criticize her, saying she's too skinny.

I guess you can't please people. And I guess you have to follow your [healthy] heart and your head and try to take what you believe to be the best course of action.

And then fuhgedaboudit!

Where Was Everyone?

Last night I was privileged to attend a performance of the LA Theatre Works: Top Secret, the story behind the publishing of the Pentagon Papers.

It was a fantastic performance, and made me think back to those times. I was totally unaware of politics in those days. I was 21 years old and studying in France with Nadia Boulanger on the day in 1971 when they were published. In fact, I was pretty unaware of what was going on in Viet Nam at the time. The other thought, when watching this performance, is the parallel between what was going on at this time and what has been happening in the U.S. over the past few years.

What was interesting was how few people were in the audience. I believe the UAPresents administrative staff made reduced tickets available to school systems and teachers. And the house wasn't even half-full.

Every high school (and maybe middle school) history and middle school teacher and class along with the UA and Pima Community College history and political science instructors/professors and their classes should have been sitting in that theatre.

George Santayana said "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." I would amend that by changing "remember" to "understand." Last night's performance was a wonderful opportunity to understand a little more about our history.

(Jill - thanks!)

Meltdown

Last night I posted all my known musical gigs on my calendar -- through May! I'm exhausted just looking at it and thinking about the constant running. Go to work; come home from work; drop bags, change clothes, grab bags, race out again; come home; drop into bed; repeat ad infinitum. Exhaustion.

This morning I looked in the mirror and just wanted to cry. I don't want to be here. I want to be there. I don't want to be here just trudging through each day, all alone. I want to be there where I can call the kids and take the babies for dinner, giving Ty and Jaci a little break. I want to be there where I can make a difference.

I'm trying to be patient. I'm trying to believe that the time isn't right yet and when it is, it'll happen. But I'm discouraged.

And just plain tired.

GPS

On Friday evening I have to make my way to Scottsdale and find some mega church were the National Association of Teachers of Singing competition is being held.

The teacher whose students I'm accompanying called to talk about maps and directions. I told her I had GPS in the car, so it wouldn't be a problem. She replied, "I have 'Oh shit, I made a wrong turn' in the car."

There's your Monday morning giggle.

Hitting the Books

I've been busy lately, learning new things. I'm hitting computer books and music books.

I'm working on mastering ColdFusion, a software development tool used to create dynamic web sites. I've had a preliminary interview with Turning Technologies in Youngstown, OH, and the HR person who interviewed me indicated the vice president of operations, who would be the next person to interview me, would be apprehensive about my lack of ColdFusion knowledge. So I'm racing to show him that I can develop in ColdFusion.

And out of people I met and worked with in the St. Francis musical revue, I met a local singing teacher. I am accompanying eight of her students in the National Association of Teachers of Singing competition in Scottsdale next weekend. I spent four hours yesterday listening to and learning show tunes I had never heard before, sometimes from shows I'd never heard of! I rehearsed last night with six of my eight assigned students. When another accompanist didn't show up because of illness, I sightread difficult music (including "The Light in the Piazza" - überdifficult!) for six of his assigned students.

It seems the original theme of this blog is superfluous lately. There are no dates; there are no men; the love in my life comes solely from my kids and grandkids and some cherished close friends.

May this only be a brief dry spell while I wait for all my Ohio connections to fall into place.

Now, will you excuse me? I've gotta get back to my books.

Happy Hallowe'en

Trick or treat. I treated myself to a manicure and pedicure. How did you celebrate?

And here is a photo of my little darlings. Any reader who has known me longer than 25 years will be astonished to see how much Boston resembles Tyler at the same age.