Do You Recall that Saxophone Concert

that the HM and I attended about five months ago, Reader Dear?

Please know that I will not fault you if you are exclaiming, "A concert five months ago?! Merciful Musical Mutterings, how am I to remember one particular concert out of all the various ones you're forever running to, subsequently posting to your blog?!"

Well, here's the thing.  The HM and I, we were not aware of the fall and winter Community Concerts that have been taking place locally for years and years (decades and decades, actually. Believe it or not, these concerts have taken place for scores and scores of years. It's true).  Had our friends not shared tickets with us in late winter,  we'd still be lounging on the sofa at home, possibly watching TV, during six Wednesday evenings throughout this current season of concerts.  What folly!




The HM and I, we now have season tickets.  They are such a bargain.



Next things next, Listener Dear, I must inform you that you'll be hearing about concerts all year long now--these indoor ones in the fall-winter-spring and the outdoor ones in the summer.  Get ready!



Concert One of the current season was held a few  weeks ago.  It was performed by an Irish-born man and three women who sang a lot of opera pieces.  We were asked to refrain from recording the music, but then at one point we were asked to join in.  With the HM singing there beside me, I decided I'd record the HM's  voice.

If you happen to hear Ciaran's voice as well, Listener Dear, I suppose I cannot be held responsible.

 It's not often one has two persons singing along together (in person, in such close proximity) with such feeling, regarding falling in love with the one listening  (though I can't say it's never happened before).

After the concert, there was the usual activity.
The buying of CD's was welcomed, of course.  I chose the one that included both Danny Boy and Shenandoah, and asked for an autograph. 

And then I chose a photo with the "acclaimed actor, singer, voice healer whose performances have been said to warm the heart and touch the soul."

Hmm. Yes.  I believe it's true--his singing warmed my heart and touched my soul.    Sorry you missed it, Listener Dear.*
*********
*If you care to have your heart touched and your soul warmed, please search out a performance by Ciaran Sheehan.


***********

It's a Toss-up

It was Day Two.
I was settled in for the duration.
My plan was to spend the day in bed, rumpled sheets beneath me, tissue box beside me, cough drop packet nearby, laptop atop my lap.

But, first, of course, I needed fortifications.
I shuffled downstairs and made myself a cup of coffee.
I tore a banana off the bunch.

I carried the coffee, the banana, the phone charger and a back-up box of tissues laboriously upstairs.
I settled in.
I was so proud of myself.

Ahem.  Pride, they say, goeth before a spill.*

Coffee, they say (though perhaps it's not a widespread bit of wisdom) will splash out of a lidded mug if one's trying to handle the removal of the lid while sneezing.  To put it simply, Reader Dear, I spilled coffee directly onto the keyboard of my laptop.  Quickly, I thrust the box of tissues and the half-peeled banana and the phone aside set down the mug hurried to shake the laptop over the bathroom sink.  I shook it and shook it.  I wiped it clean.

No harm done! I told myself, out loud and emphatically.

I spent the rest of the day staring out the window and sneezing
I read a book.
I tried to pretend I was living in the 1800's.

Day Three was quite similar.

Day Four I cautiously had lunch with HM and friends.

Day Five I rose early.  I carried my pitiful laptop to the Apple Store at the local mall.

In (what could have been a lovely coincidence, had I wished to buy the latest model of Apple Iphone) the store had just opened for business with the latest model of Apple Iphone to sell.  Simply put, the store was mobbed!

*****
Inching.
Inching.



******

Reader Dear, I've tossed that cold!  I'm well again.  Alas, I had to toss the laptop as well.  I threw away the cough drop packet, gathered every last used tissue from dresser top and bed and floor and threw them away, tidied up the pile of magazines and books, carried the empty mug(s) downstairs, washed the sheets, spent one-half of a day at the Apple Store, carried home a brand-new laptop, spent the equivalent of half a day trying desperately to figure out how to make the brand new laptop  behave at least as well as the coffee-besmirched one had done before I had to toss it.

******

 I'm inching along, trying to catch up.

******
Spill: rough synonym for "fall"

You May Think,

Reader Dear, that the Devil is in the details.  But I'm here to contend that the Devil is in the used, wadded-up, wet tissues I've just thrown into the trash bin!

Aargh.  The Common Cold has Conquered!

1. It has conquered my will to get out of bed.
2. It has conquered my will to dress myself in something other than pajamas.
3. It has conquered my will to do anything more productive than make myself a cup of coffee.
4. It has conquered my will to look at the clock as it ticks toward noon.
5. It has conquered my will to stop thinking of 1:00 p.m. as the "new noon".
6. It has conquered my will to stop thinking of myself as Mother Theresa for staying home all day and not spreading the virus around.
7.  It has NOT, however, (no, I will NOT allow it! the Devil be damned) conquered my will to stop making this list and start thinking of things to do that are actually worthwhile and productive and helpful to the world...*

THE END!
(As I grab for a tissue, and produce another sneeze that would break the Richter Scale)


*You know,  a la Mother Theresa, for real.
Or, maybe Michelle Obama.
Er, well, at least like the next door neighbor woman, who is working in her flower beds.

Ditto on the Ditto

Annually, my Dear Reader, it appears that I repeat the fun stuff a lot.

There's this, for instance:  Gerry's Pig Roast

This time I did not thank the pig, and, in fact, tried to avoid looking into his or her face.  I am a bit ashamed and have tried to make up for it since the pig roast by eating mostly vegetarian meals.  However, oink, oink, was that pig yummy! Thanks again, Gerry!


********
,And, of course, unless things go very badly, we each have a birthday each year.

Here is the HM's:  The (Very Nearly) Annual Party at the Park.

Susquehannock State Park, in this case.

All my little actors and my Little Actress were in attendance, along with parents.

 Highlight for at least three of the dozen folks at this party was the downhill rides aboard the riding vehicle that the man with the birthday brought along for anyone of the appropriate size to enjoy.




Reader Dear, these three, in an historical upset,  were more carried away by the rides than by the chocolate birthday cake!

This greatly pleased the HM.



******

Gee Whiz, Gotta Wrap Up

this vacation story.  It's almost Fall.  School has long since started.  Halloween junk is beginning to fill the store displays.

******
So, here's the fond farewell to the vacation house in the Shenandoah Valley, way back on Labor Day weekend, and a few details to the story that I neglected to tell:
On the lawn of the vacation house, standing peacefully under a shade tree, was a statue of the Holy Mother of God (Madre de Dios, Reader Dear).  I don't know when she arrived, but she was still there when we left. 

*********
During our stay at this vacation house, in addition to the caterpillar (who may or may not live there) we noticed another fine creature moving about. Was he one of the caretakers? I wondered.

He didn't say.

**********

Elder Brother brought a fig bush to the vacation house for me.  Together we named this type of fig 
the Warwick.  He has many of these fig bushes at his farm.  They were all started from the bushes that grow at the old home place.  The place, Dear Reader, I've shown you many times.  It was our growing-up home by the Warwick River.* 

I carried the Warwick along home, and have been eating from it ever since!









**********

Our very final event-slash-food-slash-fun as a group of vacationers was lunch at an Indian Restaurant,

and a visit to Shirley's Popcorn shop, just up the street.

Three of my small actors left the shop with plenty of fortification for the long trip home.

*********

Only HM and I returned to the vacation house for one final night.  I sat up late, diligently attempting to capture the sound of a train whistle for you, Listener Dear.  Failing, I tried again in the misty morning, which was filled with sound, but nary a train whistle.

****
At the end, approaching the "check-out" time of ten a.m., I was still scrambling around, cleaning up the kitchen, emptying the refrigerator and the dishwasher, sweeping the floors, emptying the trash cans, transporting dirty laundry, dealing with the garbage, texting my children, "Does anyone know the whereabouts of the combination lock that was on the gate to the pool?!", searching-searching-searching for the lock, watering my newly-begotten fig bush, packing to go home.  By the tine the HM and I were driving away from the vacation house, down the long, sloping driveway...I needed a vacation!*

*It's just a joke, Reader Dear.
Only a joke.  After all, all the cleaning up was simply labor that I hadn't done the day before, you know--on LABOR Day!

Yep, Still at the Vacation Spot

And, now for The Big She-Bang!

My Amiga Preciosa, who lives in the very same valley where this vacation house stands, had suggested (when she heard we were coming there) that we get all of our follow-afters together for a big reunion.  It sounded like a great idea!  "Yes," I said.  "Oh, yes!"

Consequently, we had a great deal of communicating  back and forth.  My friend had invited the whole (enormous) group (all descendants) to come to her (and P's) house for the get-together.

But, I had said, "Why not come to this vacation house? There is a pool!  And a hot tub!  And the house is so BIG!"  

"Well, hmmm, okay," said my friend.

But then, she was second-guessing.  And, I was conferring with my daughters.

Which location? What day? Which  meal? What food?

We finally agreed on having the get-together at the vacation house.

My friend said,
"Here's what I'll bring: A Taco Salad, everything served separately so everyone can build their dinner however they choose!" (And she sent me a photo to help with the decision).  It sounded (and looked) like a terrific idea!

Keep in mind, Reader Dear, that this Big She-Bang was going to be the very first of its kind (you know, with these particular people [and during the past twenty-odd (or perhaps thirty-odd) years])! And, if everyone attended, there would be thirty-plus people.

"I think you'd better come (across states) and visit me," I told my friend. "We need to have a Summit Meeting to discuss this event!" 

Reader Dear, the Summit Meeting did not occur.  But, you know, of course, that the large  reunion did happen.  And, I'm here to tell you about it.   Both of the "shes" who planned it deemed it a huge success!
*****

It was late afternoon, on the day of the Big She-Bang.  The actual meal, served up, was one of the first successes of the evening. I'm afraid, Dear Viewer, you can't see the crocks filled with meat, and the beans, and the plate of avocados and the corn and tomatoes and cucumber slices and onion and grated cheese...and, well...the food in itself was a big deal!

HM and I had stopped at Costco and grabbed a few boxes of ice cream and chocolate syrup and a case of drinks.  I don't need to tell you that , I , most certainly, had the easy part in this extravaganza!

Gracias a Mi Amiga

The food was terrific!  The weather was fabulous--temps fell through the 80's--with sunshine!  My Horse Man found a fellow horse enthusiast! My children connected with the adult versions of these friends from childhood!  Even my shyest small actor did some mingling!

There was lots of eating! Lots of talking!  Lots of laughing! Lots of jumping in the pool!

Fortunately, we had a photographer among us who (in addition to me snapping pics all around) recorded some of our moments in time.

I'm crediting her with our fun and frantic final photos of the forty of us (not quite that many, but who's counting?!)

Take One

Take Two

Take Three! 

*****

****
Then, Thank You, Thank you!
Good-bye, Good-bye!**

**Oh, yes.  Let's do it again!

There was a lot

that was "non-ditto" about this vacation.

First and foremost, Viewer Dear, there were two new attendees.
My Itty-Bitty Actor and my new Little Actress had never been to this spot before.

*******

Fig Bush Story to come Later

Then, too, there were my two brothers, who joined us for a dinner; neither of these two had visited with us at this spot the last time we were here.  And, they brought along three other dear family members; likewise, these three were here at this vacation spot for the first time.

(You may notice, Dear Viewer, there is a lot of talking and laughing.  I feel that it pairs well with food and drink)

Here is another new visitor we had during this stay (This visitor may not consider herself to be "visiting", however. It could very well be that it's her permanent home, though she did not act as though we were intruding.

Well, and then there's more.
Oh, yes, Reader Dear, there's more!

Also new on this visit was "The Big She-Bang"!*
* It was a big shebang!**
**Preview:

***Stay tuned!

It was a Bang-up Vacation!

In many ways I could just say Ditto!

1. Over the long Labor Day weekend, we went to a spot in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia where, a couple of years ago,  the Yard Man (oops; he's now HM) and I took every last one of our descendants on a prior vacation.

2.  We rented the same large house with a pool and hot tub.

 

3.  We oohed and aahed over the same mountain views

4.  Oohed and aahed over the same train whistles (I'm only taking this on assumption; the trains may have been upgraded with new equipment since the last visit).  I may have exclaimed over these sounds of the train whistles more than any one else in our group. Dear Reader,  I found the night whistles especially lovely (slightly mournful, nostalgic, carrying me back to an era of time in which no one ever exclaimed, "A train?! Why would you take a train when you can get there so much faster by plane?!"

5. We took the same mountain hike as on the previous visit here.

6.  We oohed and aahed over the same fine children's museum that we visited in the nearby city of Harrisonburg the last time we were in this area. (There are so many activities at this museum that I can't begin to name all of them.  But,  I'll show you, Viewer Dear, the  theater where I enjoyed several short shows by the Small Actor and Tiny Actor (yes, they were brief.  The story lines were a bit chaotic and hard to follow.  But, oh my, this studio was rife with possibilities.  One could do costuming, apply make-up, run the camera, do set design, operate the sound system [during the performances that I watched, night cricket sounds were a frequently-used part of the story line, as well as the cracking and rolling of thunder (I've got to admit, sometimes those sounds were the only story line)].

Then, too, my performers had to work with any other actor or actress who simply walked in off the street and wanted to share the costumes and the stage! In spite of this handicap, I'd give the shows I watched great reviews!

(The director was a little short-staffed.  I put the sign on the marquee [using nearly all available letters; available letters, in fact, determined the name of the show.  If this ever gets to Broadway, Viewer Dear, the show's going to be re-named]).  

7.  We oohed and aahed about how smart we were to come to this spot (again).























There were lots of never-before's, as well, and I'll enumerate them in a still-to-come post, Reader Dear