Elgan speaks
...and her words thunder across the land

The Weather Channel

Tuesday, Sept. 20, 2005
10:07 a.m.
It is thundering off to the south, an ominous sound. There are so many things I mean to write here, but when I�m actually at the keyboard, fatigue or ennui takes over and I forget to record them.

First, there was a tragic incident in town a couple of weeks ago involving drunk university students. Several of them were jumping from one of the train bridges onto a rubber raft in the river, at a depth of only three feet. There was much alcohol involved, and probably excessive partying leading up to this escapade, as it happened around 3:00 a.m. One of the students broke his leg while jumping, and the group of friends helped him to the apartment were he lived so they could call 911 and have him taken care of. It wasn�t until then that they noticed that one of their number was missing. So they called the police, who looked all over the place for him, until the students finally revealed that activity in which they were engaged prior to the accident. The young man was found, already quite dead, in the river where they had left him unbeknownst. The theory is that he broke his neck in the fall and drowned rather quickly. You can read all about it here.

It is still thundering, with the added percussion of rain on the skylights.

The wood guy came yesterday to pick up his payment for the firewood that was delivered on Friday. He�s a typical Townshipper, his family having settled here a very long time ago. The road where his farm is situated is named for his great-grandfather, who bought the property in 1872, and it has stayed in the family ever since. It�s on the route that I sometimes walk for exercise, passing pastures with grazing dairy cattle and the farm with a long shed filled with pigs. There has been a lot of inbreeding among Townshippers, and Mr. W. is a little slow, which makes me think his ancestors partook in that practice. When he arrived, Hubby said he had his money for him in cold, hard cash, which is what he had asked for, and I made a joke that I had just finished printing it that morning. I don�t think he got it.

The rain has now stopped, and there is no more thunder.

Seventeen years ago Hubby wrote a piece for 13 strings on a Homeric theme specifically for a competition which he did not win. This work languished on the shelf for a very long time until a couple of years ago when the Canadian Music Centre sponsored readings of hitherto unperformed pieces. Hence, I Musici de MontreaI spent an afternoon working on it at the Centre�s expense and Hubby actually got to hear it. Well, strictly speaking, it wasn�t exactly the same piece. He had revised it somewhat and I copied a new score and parts. This composition is now being given its world premiere, at long last, in Brand0n, Manit0ba on Friday night, so Hubby and I are flying on Thursday to points west where we will be treated like visiting royalty (at our own expense) and returning on Saturday.

I�m excited about returning to Brand0n. The university was where Hubby had his first sabbatical-leave job. Our daughter was born there. There are still people we remember fondly in town. Many others have moved away, some have died. We could have stayed there 19 years ago, as they did offer Hubby a job which he turned down in order that we might be nearer our families. Life would be a lot different if he had accepted it.

I hear birds chirping and I think the sun is trying to come out now. This is my cue to step away from the computer and no one will get hurt.

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