Chimed, I’m sure!

One of the things I did yesterday when I was out and about speaking French badly was drop by my garagiste to make an appointment to finally change the snow tires for summer ones on the Subaru. So this morning I arose, had breakfast, sat down at the computer, and at 11:00 realized that I was supposed to bring the car in at 8:00 a.m. for the necessary procedure. Duh! Hubby hopped in the Volvo and followed at a safe distance (beware, crazy lady singing “I’m late, I’m late for a very important date!” in the car ahead) to take me home. There was no problem as they’re always busy at the garage.

Anyway, we had to go get it later on, and on my way back I dropped by the belly dancing studio to give Lise my order for the DVD (which I will give to Patsy who missed the show on Sunday due to an insect bite or some other cause of swelling), but I was a mite early and the place was locked. Instead of whiling away my time looking in the window of the boutique (I think I know every single one of those jingle-jangle scarves by heart) I wandered into a store next door which I had never entered before, a huge place full of “gifts”, which translates into overpriced schlock that appeals to people who are looking for something to give Great Aunt Mildred who collects salt shakers, or something like that. I went through the whole place before noticing a large set of wind chimes--not as large as the ones at the B&B we stayed at in Parry Sound last summer, but bigger than anything I already own--and apropos a remark Buddy Boy made wherein he thought we had too many wind chimes on the back deck, to which Hubby and I replied in unison, “We don’t have enough!”, I bought them.

I planned to give them to Hubby on Sunday for Daddy’s Day, but it was just us for supper and I suddenly had the urge to bestow some token of my love upon him (apart from the really nice dinner I had just prepared), so I gave them to him, whereupon he hung them on the deck (we had to move one of the ceramic bells over) and they are lovely, providing a tenor to the alto of the copper chimes and the soprano of the bamboo and glass chimes. Now, if only I could find me a bass.

The symphony is all composed and all copied, and now the tedious matter of proofreading, correcting and extracting parts takes place. This is the job I dread and enjoy the least. However, the conductor called and is still excited about the piece and Hubby promised him we’d have it sent by courier on Monday. All I can say is, “Don’t make promises.”

|

<~~~ * ~~~>