There is no joy in Mudville�
9:31 a.m.
The weather was glorious yesterday. I took advantage of the sunshine and went for a long, arm-pumping walk down Moulton Hill and through the university to the bike path, which cuts through the woods alongside the old golf course. I continued past the factory, around the Lion and back to the university on the College Street side, stopping at the music department to use the toilet and get a drink from the water fountain. I bumped into Tomo there, who always reacts to me as though I�ve caught him red-handed in some illicit action. I asked him about his summer and after his family, whom he visited in Japan. He responded that they were still his family, not the usual �They�re fine, thank you� kind of response one normally expects.
After I got home I struggled a bit more with the NY Times crossword, showered, and went with Hubby to a party at Fannie Piano�s loft in downtown Sh�brooke. The party was called for 6:00, we arrived at 6:45, and appeared to be the first ones. Eventually people arrived, and we stayed until about 9:30. At first Hubby had insisted we leave before 8:00 so he could watch the women�s tennis finals at home, but Fannie had the television tuned to the match, so he watched it there. I met some of our new students, one young man in particular who thinks he is a countertenor, but was planning on studying cello once he became more proficient at that instrument. I told him to audition on Monday and just sing anything. Perhaps he can start his applied instruction right from the start. I would love to teach another countertenor; the last one was so rewarding.
I tried to play on the computer last night when we got back, but I was so tired that every time I blinked I was in danger of my eyes not opening again. So I headed off to bed.
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