Don’t read this entry if you tire easily.
9:27 a.m.
However, he is a very good conductor, especially working in English, which is not his mother tongue, and got some very nice things out of our choir. He was very impressed with our group, actually, and I have to hand it to the above-mentioned Herr Doktor for doing such a good job preparing us for the guest conductor’s finishing. However, it was a very hard practice, and Messiah is not easy stuff, so I was pretty exhausted by it when we finally broke at 1:30 p.m.
The afternoon proved even more tiring. Hubby and I went shopping. I think I have mentioned in this diary at least a gazillion times, if not more, how much I hate shopping. I especially hate shopping with my husband. He shops like a woman. I shop like a man. Does that make any sense?
First I dropped him off at the mall so he could get himself some new tennis shoes and other sports paraphernalia and I went to Costco to spend oodles of money on various and sundry, including a portable hard drive, 160 GB of memory with a brand name I have never seen before. I realize I’m taking a chance on this, but Costco generally has pretty good merchandise (well, generally) and I’m keeping my bill. I think I’ll also burn DVD’s, just to be on the safe side. Those are cheap.
Back to the mall where we had arranged to meet at the record shop, and Hubby had an armful of CD’s and DVD’s and was busy looking for more. I had frozen things in the trunk. The music playing in the store was very loud and very bassy and it was making me crazy (crazier than I already am, for those of you who know me personally) and I just wanted to get out of there. Eventually we did, but not before I could have bought myself an entire ensemble at some ladies’ dress shop. I wandered around Le Château and contemplated trying on a hot little purple satin number, but thought I wouldn’t have enough time. I did. Dammit.
Finally we got out of the mall. Our next stop was the cartoucherie where my matte black cartridge was waiting patiently for me. We left the car there and took our lives in our hands crossing the street to a luminaire (don’t you just love the way you get a free French lesson with every diary entry?) where we inspected table lamps. They had the most amazing pink chandelier on display. I looked at it and seriously thought about barfing. The lamp we did buy (for the kitchen table so that those of us with presbyopea can read the newspaper and do crossword puzzles) is very cool looking, but again, shopping with Hubby, it took an age to decide upon.
Next stop: international food store. We came out of there with an armload of hot sauces, Prince of Wales tea, a container of green olives and a fancy chocolate bar. Didn’t you know? Only 30 calories worth of dark chocolate daily will stave off high blood pressure. We stopped by the supermarket on the way home from there and bought regular food, too. And then I needed to collapse.
After supper, rather late, we watched one of the movies Hubby bought and went to bed. Now I have a full day ahead of me, a day which includes activities in which I cannot take part. Little Princess’ band is playing at a local talent festival as they did last year; there’s an organ recital at the chapel, and I’m expecting a heretofore-unmet blogging acquaintance to arrive sometime this afternoon for an overnight visit as she drives from Montreal to Connecticut. This is someone I know from Xanga and I’m thrilled to meet another online friend. So instead of supporting the arts, I’ll be cooking and cleaning (my cleaning lady didn’t come this week because we were away) and awaiting my friend’s arrival.
I’ll let you know how all that panned out later.
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