Stay out of the crypt.

I have now had the �crypt� experience. This morning we had the dress rehearsal for this afternoon�s concert. The space is like a huge, musty echo chamber. The wind quintet just boomed in there. If Hubby hadn�t brought a microphone and amplifier for me (we found out later that it was actually Little Princess� BF� amp), I would never have been understood, either in English or French. The concert itself went well enough. There were perhaps 50 people in the audience, who helped to soak up some of the sound (not enough) and P and E had a lovely reception at their place afterwards.

The crypt has wall niches in which rest the vestiges of all the bishops of Sh�brooke and other wealthy parishioners from over the years. I thought the practice of immuring bones and ashes had ceased, but I noticed a recent marble plaque bearing the year 2005 on it, so I guess, if you can afford it, you can still buy a spot for your earthly remains. There are quite a few unmarked niches so, if you�re interested, maybe I can get you a deal.

Like a cemetary, there are stories told by names and dates. For instance, I was intrigued by five adjacent niches, each one holding a separate member of the Sylvestre family. The father, Ernest Sylvestre, a notaire, died at the age of 88 on November 20, 1955. He watched his wife (Marguerite Rochette, May 20, 1931, age 65), two sons (G�rard, June 19, 1926, age 26, and Charles, April 27, 1945, age 36), and one daughter (Gabrielle, October 9, 1926, age 23) predecease him. His one remaining daughter, Marie, died at age 52 on November 11, 1958, a mere three years after the death of her father. I did the math and thought to myself: What a sad, sad man he must have been.

Today is my brother�s 52nd birthday. I wish him good health and long life, and that�s about it. Also, please note that the broadcast of my husband�s symphony is tonight at 10:00 p.m. Eastern time on Tw0 New H0urs on CBC radio two (tune in on shortwave or the internet by going to their website.

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