Kevin, Kevin, who art thou, Kevin?

My unconscious mind is trying to get me in trouble. When I got back from my rehearsal with France this morning and went upstairs to see how my sweetie was doing, since he had still been fast asleep when I left to go warm up at the university and I had not yet spoken to him today, the first thing he said was, �Who�s Kevin?� I answered, �I give up, who�s Kevin?� Apparently he was up much of the night with a sore throat (which he has probably now passed on to me, considering I modelled that black satin dress for him yesterday and it had exactly the desired effect) and I was talking in my sleep, calling out the name �Kevin�. I wracked my brains, but besides Kevin O., the percussionist who shares the jazz ensemble with Grandpa Mike, I could think of no one in my present acquaintance by that name. Even of my invisible friends, as far as I am aware, none are named Kevin. Was it a name I read in a book or heard in a movie? I am at an impasse. So, I shall wait for my unconscious mind to come up with an answer to this conundrum, since it started the whole mess in the first place.

My rehearsal with France went very well. We were both a little timid and trepidatious, especially about Mario�s piece, but as it turns out, it�s not that daunting. I realized that at one point in my life I was performing almost nothing but 12-tone and contemporary music, but over the past several years I have gotten lazy and forgotten the mind-set necessary to get out of the habits that come with traditional tonal music. At least I have not forgotten how to sing tri-tones. As the two hours went by, we became more and more secure, and now I know exactly what I have to work on and don�t feel so intimidated. The concert is exactly three weeks away, which now doesn�t seem like so little. We�ll be great!

The thaw we had with the subsequent rain has been replaced by frigid seasonal norms once again, which make the roads treacherous in places. The river rose with all the melt and precipitation, but is now frozen again in its new level. I stopped at the post office on my way home from France�s and mailed the package to Israel by airmail, since the last time I sent something surface it took almost six months to get there. The price of postage was more than the combined value of the items in the box. Linda, I hope you appreciate this!

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