Kittens

 Kittens.

I am about to have them.

I go on stage in an hour to accompany two of the three choruses at our Middle School Winter Concert (Night The First), and the Sixth Grade Orchestra, which is really thin in the Cello/Bass department, so I am hiding at the piano, and pretending to be the invisible bass players.  (as an aside, it apparently isn't funny to the orchestra director, when you say, on the day of the concert, "So, if I'm pretending to be several bass players, does that mean I should occasionally play minor seconds, to mimic the sound of the musicians not agreeing on a note?"  Heh.)

Anyways, it was 9 o'clock this morning before I ever figured out what I was doing wrong in the one 6th grade chorus song, and I just hope I do it the right way, instead of the Incredibly Wrong Way that I've been playing the one passage for the last 3 months.

See?
I'm having kittens.
This music is above me.
I am going to go down in flames.

Oh well.  if the parents complain, I will say "You get what you paid for, and I was free.  Maybe next concert, you'll donate the $1500 that it'll cost to hire a professional accompanist"

Or maybe I won't.  Because i am nice.  And most of the parents are nice.  If I go down in flames, they'll just avoid making eye contact, and say they didn't notice anything amiss.

And, hoping I don't crash and burn, tomorrow is ANOTHER night of concert, and I'm accompanying there, too.
Another chance to blunder horribly.  And tomorrow, it's in six flats.
whee!
Manic, much?  Panic much? Who?  Me?
Nah.
Here.
Look at the pretty horsies...
Ohm.... ohm...




Pastoral landscapes.  Good for the blood pressure...


Oh, and this one, she's going to be my page turner... maybe I can blame my gaffes on her?  Nah.  I wouldn't do that.



Fly free.  Reach for the stars.  Or at least the moon.