History repeats itself, without fail.

I have been rereading my early entries, since the first anniversary of my tenure here is coming up, and I came across this one. I am experiencing the exact same problem now that I was then, and it appears to me that this is an annual occurence. Why, oh why do I let myself get so out of shape vocally during the summer? When will I learn? On September 17 I am scheduled to perform with Vlad on the H0ward Br0wn Memorial Concert, otherwise know as the faculty recital, three songs by Peter Warl0ck, pieces I often give my own students. They are not difficult songs, the highest they go is F, but I sound like an unoiled screen door as I approach that note.

So today, during my practice session, I dragged out the Vivaldi Laudate Pueri and forced myself to sing through it from beginning to end, no matter how awful it sounded and how out of breath I got, with the plan in mind that I would shock my voice back to where it�s supposed to be. I cannot let a day pass without practising now, and that means early tomorrow before I catch my bus, at my mother�s, and Tuesday is a write-off unless I can get some time in after I get home that evening. Dammit!

It certainly warmed up today. I walked into town, as I have been doing of late, and this time successfully retrieved the Christmas catalogue as promised. I wore a T-shirt on top but long black jeans on the bottom, and I was terribly uncomfortable. Coming home I had to lie down beneath a shady grove in the cemetary beside the road before I could attempt the ascent of Moulton Hill. Yesterday I had a jacket on the whole time and never felt overheated.

I suppose I shall not update again until Tuesday night, when I return from Toronto. It will be a computer-free weekend, which is a very good thing.

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