April is in my mistress� face�

The waters have receded, but it�s raining once more, and the news I got from a classmate is that there will be snow this evening. Grr. I walked from Bushop�s where I left the car across the bridge into town last night for writing group. There were only a few puddles left in the rugby field, which had been totally underwater the day before. Today the football field in front of the college is full of gulls. I imagine the soggy ground must display an embarrassment of worms.

The day passed in a blur. I had Latin this morning, where we almost finished translating Ovid�s version of the encounter between Hercules and Cacus, and I taught my two young men this afternoon, spending most of the lesson with Br. singing one note (the G at the top of the bass clef), trying to find his �sweet spot�, as I call it, that focus of cerebral resonance where the whole head �lights up� when you get it right, it sounds good and feels marvellous. I�m a very exacting singing teacher. I will settle for nothing less than success.

Now I�m home, early enough presumably to make supper for my menfolk who both have to be back on campus for 6:00 p.m. (Hubby for orchestra, Buddy Boy for karate). Since, I have nothing left to report, I�m gone.

Oh, check out my minisaga.

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