Misty Morning

Sitting here in my home office, waiting for Fuzzy to finish getting ready for work (we carpool), I can still hear the music from last night ringing in my head. We have an alto-heavy choir, and our choirmaster, at the last rehearsal, split us into two rows, to balance the number of people in each row, and to balance the sound. I'm the shortest person in either choir, and I was put in the back. When I teased him about that decision, about how I don't know the harmony on some of the older carols, and was relying on the piano, he said, “But I put you in the back because you can hit the pitches,” meaning the three of us in the back row are supposed to sing into the front row, and guide them. That made me feel better, but what really helped is my row-mates agreeing that the alto part on one of the pieces is just really tough – I think we ALL just opted to sing melody, since the congregation was singing along. In any case, C. was able to listen to the master cd of the performance on the way home, and we should have copies of the edited version by the first of the year. Having a brass quartet joining us for the carols was AMAZING, inspiring, and just plain fun, and I had to laugh at our Bishop, who was seated behind us, humming along with all the introductions.

Today, the morning sky is thick with soft grey mist, the kind that makes lights twinkle more brightly, and makes a cozy fireside THE place to want to be. And yet, I'm still so buzzed from singing that I don't even mind getting in the car and heading off to work. (Maybe I'll have a password?) Somehow, it'll just make coming home to my decorated house that much sweeter.

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