In Which I Give the Weekly Update
It was just as busy a week as I'd predicted, but quite nice. On Friday evening the 10th DS came into Annapolis (with his brand-new (to him) Prius!) and after a dinner of what's-left-in-the-fridge? burritos we headed over to St John's, met up with my brother (who is enjoying his first semester living in a dorm), and settled in for the beautiful Nordic Voices concert.
Their concept for the evening was Lamentation/Consolation, and the first half was a series of polyphonic pieces from Palestrina, Victoria, and other great Renaissance composers, all settings of the Lamentations of Jeremiah. The singers all were masters of their art, and their deep, rich voices had a fullness that filled the room, spilling notes and the intervals between the notes and the sorrows of the world into the corners of my mind: O vos omnes qui transitis per viam, adtendite et videte: si est dolor sicut dolor meus.
The second half, Consolation, was all 20th century pieces by Nordic composers, several of which utilized throat-singing on top of classical polyphony, an uplifting, ethereal, soothing effect. The second half ended with a setting of a traditional lullaby, "Bysjan, bysjan lite bån" by Frank Havrøy. It was a lovely evening, and I'm glad the group chose to return to St John's (I saw them in 2005 at St John's for their last America tour). Also, I highly recommend their CDs.
On Saturday the 11th Will and I headed down to Alexandria to Misha's Coffee house for an unlikely event - hanging out with people we know from the internet, specifically with the community surrounding Atlantic editor Ta-Nehisi Coates' Daily Open Thread. The appeal of TNC's commentariat community is obvious: it's a heavily-moderated community (no trolls) of very smart, very well-written people, many of whom are successful bloggers in their own right. If you relish a good conversation TNC's place might be the best place on the internet. If you go I recommend lurking for a while before commenting, to get the feel of how conversations go.
Anyway, 14 of us met up and proceeded to jaw non-stop from 1 to 7 pm, finally getting kicked out of the coffee shop for taking up most of the seating, and heading around the corner to a bar and restaurant for a grand dinner. It was a great afternoon full of marvelous conversation, and fun, though slightly odd to finally meet people I knew rather well in print, and have names attached to handles. I also liked that it was a very diverse lot, nothing like what most of the internet actually is - majority female, 1/3 black, ages 25-40.
On Sunday the 12th DS came back and we played a game of Mordheim, with Will refereeing again, and their we headed over with the rest of the household to the Great Hall for the twenty-somethingth annual Begone, Dull Care!. As usual that bunch of musically-inclined tutors gave a fun 90 minutes of entertainment, and Mr Burke added a new instrument to his repertoire: a keyboard app on his touchscreen phone, which he played at the beginning of one song.
That evening Ben and Alex and Greg and Lia came over for dinner with me and Will and Eric and Kristin. Alex's brother had shot a Canadian goose and they'd basted it with something delicious, stuffed it with apples, onions, sausage, and potatoes, and filled the pan with more of the same, and they brought it over and cooked it in our oven while we ate Eric's baked brie and my guacamole in the living room with cocktails. When we came into the dining room (laid with a pretty purple table cloth, purple flowers spilling out of a low vase, candles burning on the sideboard in their silver candlesticks, and the table set with china, silver, and glassware for eight) we had Lia's tasty cauliflower and garlic soup for an opening course, and then Will carried in the bird on the well-and-tree and carved us all some slices of the tender, flavorful meat. We filed our plates with the contents of the pan and enjoyed the good conversation, and then had a flaming plum pudding for dessert, with candied nuts and coffee afterward. A lovely evening, and with Kristin's help with the dishes we had all the china packed away and the silver re-polished by 9:30.
On Monday the 13th I dropped David off at the airport for his trip to Florida. That evening was the pro-same-sex marriage rally; I was very disappointed that I didn't have time to attend, but it seemed like a big, happy crowd aside from the loonies on the edges. That evening I finally got out to Home Depot and bought everything I needed to build my long-overdue coat rack. I've since sanded everything, chiseled the holes for the rod, cut the rest of the pieces, and assembled the sides, and I hope to build the rest of it this weekend.
As usual Will and I eschewed traditional Valentine's Day crap in favor of some nice beers, a dinner of pork sausages, and spending time together, which made for a lovely evening.
On Wednesday the 15th I had Tim Creighton over and served him the soup I'd made from the rest of the goose - a broth of goose fat, pan drippings, and vegetable broth from bouillion cubes (hey, I found a jar dorm ransacking...), with the rest of the goose (the meat fell off the bones into the soup), potatoes, turnips, apples, and peppers, seasoned with pepper and herbes de province. It turned out quite tasty and we had a good conversation over our left-over French wine and truffles.
After Tim headed off to St John's Chorus I cleaned up and then headed over to Galway Bay for the sing, where I enjoyed myself, nursed my usual glass of wine, and left early to take a shower and go to bed.
On Thursday I lunched with Tim and one of the readers at the Folger (a fellow Johnnie alum from the early '90s) - she's a classmate of Mr Pihas and I introduced her and Tim so they could talk about grad school. That evening I went to Evening Prayer at St Anne's and stuck around for the dinner, catching up with the usual folks before heading home to work on my coat rack.
This morning I drove in to work, so I left very early. It was very foggy - I couldn't see the lights on the other side of Spa Creek at the end of Market Street when I walked to my car. It was dark in the west and a shadowy grey in the east that turned into a hazy gold as the sun crept up below the horizon and finally burst over it. As I walked from the parking garage towards the station the deep sound of the saxophone busker playing a slow, pretty jazz piece drifted out of the fog as the silhouettes of overcoat clad commuters faded into it - a scene so striking I dropped a dollar into the man's bucket.
Their concept for the evening was Lamentation/Consolation, and the first half was a series of polyphonic pieces from Palestrina, Victoria, and other great Renaissance composers, all settings of the Lamentations of Jeremiah. The singers all were masters of their art, and their deep, rich voices had a fullness that filled the room, spilling notes and the intervals between the notes and the sorrows of the world into the corners of my mind: O vos omnes qui transitis per viam, adtendite et videte: si est dolor sicut dolor meus.
The second half, Consolation, was all 20th century pieces by Nordic composers, several of which utilized throat-singing on top of classical polyphony, an uplifting, ethereal, soothing effect. The second half ended with a setting of a traditional lullaby, "Bysjan, bysjan lite bån" by Frank Havrøy. It was a lovely evening, and I'm glad the group chose to return to St John's (I saw them in 2005 at St John's for their last America tour). Also, I highly recommend their CDs.
On Saturday the 11th Will and I headed down to Alexandria to Misha's Coffee house for an unlikely event - hanging out with people we know from the internet, specifically with the community surrounding Atlantic editor Ta-Nehisi Coates' Daily Open Thread. The appeal of TNC's commentariat community is obvious: it's a heavily-moderated community (no trolls) of very smart, very well-written people, many of whom are successful bloggers in their own right. If you relish a good conversation TNC's place might be the best place on the internet. If you go I recommend lurking for a while before commenting, to get the feel of how conversations go.
Anyway, 14 of us met up and proceeded to jaw non-stop from 1 to 7 pm, finally getting kicked out of the coffee shop for taking up most of the seating, and heading around the corner to a bar and restaurant for a grand dinner. It was a great afternoon full of marvelous conversation, and fun, though slightly odd to finally meet people I knew rather well in print, and have names attached to handles. I also liked that it was a very diverse lot, nothing like what most of the internet actually is - majority female, 1/3 black, ages 25-40.
On Sunday the 12th DS came back and we played a game of Mordheim, with Will refereeing again, and their we headed over with the rest of the household to the Great Hall for the twenty-somethingth annual Begone, Dull Care!. As usual that bunch of musically-inclined tutors gave a fun 90 minutes of entertainment, and Mr Burke added a new instrument to his repertoire: a keyboard app on his touchscreen phone, which he played at the beginning of one song.
That evening Ben and Alex and Greg and Lia came over for dinner with me and Will and Eric and Kristin. Alex's brother had shot a Canadian goose and they'd basted it with something delicious, stuffed it with apples, onions, sausage, and potatoes, and filled the pan with more of the same, and they brought it over and cooked it in our oven while we ate Eric's baked brie and my guacamole in the living room with cocktails. When we came into the dining room (laid with a pretty purple table cloth, purple flowers spilling out of a low vase, candles burning on the sideboard in their silver candlesticks, and the table set with china, silver, and glassware for eight) we had Lia's tasty cauliflower and garlic soup for an opening course, and then Will carried in the bird on the well-and-tree and carved us all some slices of the tender, flavorful meat. We filed our plates with the contents of the pan and enjoyed the good conversation, and then had a flaming plum pudding for dessert, with candied nuts and coffee afterward. A lovely evening, and with Kristin's help with the dishes we had all the china packed away and the silver re-polished by 9:30.
On Monday the 13th I dropped David off at the airport for his trip to Florida. That evening was the pro-same-sex marriage rally; I was very disappointed that I didn't have time to attend, but it seemed like a big, happy crowd aside from the loonies on the edges. That evening I finally got out to Home Depot and bought everything I needed to build my long-overdue coat rack. I've since sanded everything, chiseled the holes for the rod, cut the rest of the pieces, and assembled the sides, and I hope to build the rest of it this weekend.
As usual Will and I eschewed traditional Valentine's Day crap in favor of some nice beers, a dinner of pork sausages, and spending time together, which made for a lovely evening.
On Wednesday the 15th I had Tim Creighton over and served him the soup I'd made from the rest of the goose - a broth of goose fat, pan drippings, and vegetable broth from bouillion cubes (hey, I found a jar dorm ransacking...), with the rest of the goose (the meat fell off the bones into the soup), potatoes, turnips, apples, and peppers, seasoned with pepper and herbes de province. It turned out quite tasty and we had a good conversation over our left-over French wine and truffles.
After Tim headed off to St John's Chorus I cleaned up and then headed over to Galway Bay for the sing, where I enjoyed myself, nursed my usual glass of wine, and left early to take a shower and go to bed.
On Thursday I lunched with Tim and one of the readers at the Folger (a fellow Johnnie alum from the early '90s) - she's a classmate of Mr Pihas and I introduced her and Tim so they could talk about grad school. That evening I went to Evening Prayer at St Anne's and stuck around for the dinner, catching up with the usual folks before heading home to work on my coat rack.
This morning I drove in to work, so I left very early. It was very foggy - I couldn't see the lights on the other side of Spa Creek at the end of Market Street when I walked to my car. It was dark in the west and a shadowy grey in the east that turned into a hazy gold as the sun crept up below the horizon and finally burst over it. As I walked from the parking garage towards the station the deep sound of the saxophone busker playing a slow, pretty jazz piece drifted out of the fog as the silhouettes of overcoat clad commuters faded into it - a scene so striking I dropped a dollar into the man's bucket.