I know, I know....
If that break in October/November taught me anything it was how to forget blogging. :) Days have passed without a thought of writing. Heh. Be that as it may, I have returned to tell you... things.
Between Then and Now many things have occurred:
We acquired a Christmas tree. Tramping through the forest on a crisp Sunday afternoon after church on the lookout for the right spruce, I wore my nice brown felt and fur coat {forgetting to bring my Columbia that morning}. I only discovered my mistake of choice after I heard the gun shots. Apparently deer/elk are still very much in season. I hid behind Mum {garbed in a bright pink parka} the rest of the trek.
Oh, and also on that journey I got my little brother good. Hehe. I dared him to lick a snow drift. Hehehe. He knew something was up but I told him to come off it and called him a chicken. Bwaha. He rolled his eyes and bent over, his tough sticking out. With one swift *boof!* I thrust his head into the fluff and ran for it almost dying with evil laughter - hahahahahaha!
The most stressful of the musical performances are over - hurray!!!! Having them all in one weekend just added fellness to the swoop. But now that that is over I get to play with a viola my brother borrowed from University for a week. While I would never in a million year trade my violin Dido for one, there is something about the low strings of the viola that evokes the words of the poet who wrote of "dulcet tones". I'm liking it especially on Oh My Boatman/ The Brown Haired Lad; a Celtic {surprise!} song of the saddest nature, so naturally one of my favorites of all time.
Sadly you can't find any of the songs I play on the Web. Ugh. I am going to have to find a way to record these songs so I can share them. Because no matter how good you are with words, music is a language that cannot be contained in a sentence. sigh.
Edit: Thanks to Celtic Traveler who actually found a snippet of this song! You can listen here.
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| bad photo of fish, one |
And she blows and pops bubbles. All night long.
Mum says I'm being ridiculous thinking that a fish loathes my very presence....
Anywho, I hope to return soon with something more inspiring/and/or more deep than today's little diddy. But there you are.
p.s. please vote on the poll!
Dia,
-Gwyn
*giggles*
ReplyDeleteEven though I hate the word "giggles", that is what I did when I heard your snowdrift story and your fish story.
One of my largest peeves is pet fish won from the fair, believe it or not. Poor things. They die in like a week and know nothing but a boring glass bowl. My brother had several fish...we didn't really clean the tank often, but he did feed them. Then one day he noticed none of the food had been eaten and so...yeah...
The fish were gone. My dad dumped the whole thing out and found a backbone that hadn't quite decayed.
Lol, sorry to write a whole blog post in a comment.... good luck with Miss Prudence. You should draw a picture of her wearing those tiny glasses perched on the end of her nose.
*coughs* It's late.... *makes hasty exit*
Yes! Record those pieces. If there are no other online sources for them, you will be adding, in one small way, to the world's collection of music that should not be forgotten.
ReplyDeleteI found a *snippet* of the song you mentioned. (It is beautiful)
ReplyDeletehttp://www.amazon.com/Brown-Haired-Lad-My-Boatman/dp/B00130I4EA
Ellyn: I hate the word 'giggle' too. And 'chuckle'. I think we need to come up with a better word to describe the two. Because giggle is too girly and chuckle always make me think of a fat man trying to laugh. :)
ReplyDeleteI just might have to draw Prudence, now like you've said :)
Jaqui: I shall endeavor to find such a way to preserve/share my tunes!
Celtic Traveler: Thank you! I'dve never thought to search Amazon :)
Hehehe. "A fish "loathes" my very presence..."
ReplyDelete