The end of an era.
6:19 p.m.
This is all � propos Little Princess noticing that the garbage truck was coming from the wrong direction. Then I noticed that the recycling truck did the same. So we went out to investigate and one of our neighbours enjoying the beautiful spring weather confirmed it. Drat. My favourite spot in the woods is gone. The trees have all been cleared to make way for houses, and all but three of the subdivided lots have been sold. I found the oak tree that grows in our front yard in those woods: it was just a tiny sapling sprouting out of an inch of soil on solid rock. The feathery spruce that I took to Toronto to plant over my dad�s ashes came from those woods. There are already several houses on those lots. Damn.
I ended up having a bath and hanging out laundry and waiting for the tech support guys from Finale to get back to me. I ended up emailing the document in question to them, and haven�t heard anything since, which makes me think they can�t figure it out either. Then I went to the university to sit in on three of my students� rehearsals with the accompanist. By the end of the day she was exhausted. Poor girl. She�s been doing this non-stop all week. When she got to the end of Erlk�nig, she �I�m not playing that one twice.�
There�s a half-recital tonight, it was supposed to be two, but the tenor has laryngitis or bronchitis or one of those itis diseases that keeps singers from performing. If you missed my earlier post, by all means, click back one.
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