in the major key
I began the first day of my summer holidays by doing the one thing I long to do all school-year long: sleeping in. Really I only slept till a bit after ten thirty, but I lay in bed for a while, sleepily listening to the wind and having pleasant sleepy thoughts. And, er, then I rolled over for the iPod and had a bit of quality Angel time.
Technically I've finished high-school. I really don't feel as though I've finished high-school at all. I'd elaborate, but I'm happy just now, and don't want to spoil it. But, blimey. A whole year and a half until I've got to be in school again. Disconcerting feeling. Now I've just got to a) find a school, and b) actually get into it. Well, I've got a thesis paper to write over the summer, anyway; that should keep the vertigo at bay. I'm actually slightly excited about this, even: I'm going to write about traditional folk ballads in Britain, centring on some specific ones I haven't chosen yet (though "The House Carpenter" is a likely candidate), and how they migrated to the United States, and how they were affected by culture, and culture was affected by them. This paper will require me to hunt up a lot of traditional ballads and listen to them, and read a lot of books about folk music and traditional ballads and field recording and suchlike, which I'm sure will be very draining and unpleasant for me. And, uh, hey, any help would be amazing. I kind of don't know where to start just now. Anybody know good books about the ballad tradition? (...also, anybody have really awesome versions of "Tam Lin", aside from ones by Fairport Convention and Mediaeval Baebes? That's not related to the paper, because as far as I know "Tam Lin" didn't migrate, or at least not prominently, but I've recently gained an extreme fixation on this ballad, for reasons I will probably explain later. (YOU WILL ALL LAUGH AT ME.))
Also, have been having a lot of fun lately, hobnobbing with the gang. The Quill and Ink Society had its third meeting in the Huss' gazebo, which was really a very romantic spot in which to write, and socialise in general, although we were attacked by horrible winged and be-stingered vermin several times, and some cookies mysteriously vanished. If one were to look at the transcripts of our meetings (uh, yes, we take minutes. because we're nutters.) it would look very much as though no writing at all ever got done, but we do, in fact, do quite a lot. In between fandom quotage and fangirling and kicking people in the shins and discovering the follies of whipped cream and electing people to the club's cabinet and such things.
In the end, we all migrated to the tire swing. At once. Sarah has got some very amusing pictures of Hannah, Victoria, and I all attempting to crowd on at once, or trying to throw everyone else off. Eventually we behaved ourselves, and I stole Sarah's camera and took pictures. Everybody was very graceful, swooping back and forth, except for me, because I am apparently cursed. I could not stop crashing into the tree (in retrospect, that must be the reason for the really weird not-quite-rash I discovered on my shoulder-blade this morning), nor could I go straight for the life of me. Then people attempted to swing-dance, and I took more pictures, and people lay on the grass, and I took more pictures still. (They were being very picturesque. I couldn't help myself.)
Today the weather was gloriously warm, and just cloudy enough to keep the sun from being a nuisance, and bicycling to my guitar lesson was very enjoyable, as was beginning to learn Eisley's "Many Funerals", which is very fun to play because of the lick in between the verses. And I kind of sort of bought a milkshake at McDonalds on the way home. Since I now have a basket attached to my bicycle (very useful; I can fit an entire gallon and a half of milk in there), I drank it on the way home, listening to songs which made me very happy, and then I baked my cookies. Or started to, because Sarah showed up at my door and invited me to come along with everyone to Hockman's, where a lot of delicious chocolate was purchased for consummation, and much banter was bantered, and some of us were nearly thrown into the street by certain persons intolerant of the undead. There was hanging out in the church basement, and discussion of Angel, and Alessandra was doing a film project with Sarah and Hannah, so I scarpered for what was meant to be a few minutes to check on my cookies, only it turned out to be a lot of minutes, because the oven was being psychotic. At any rate, cookies were at last had, and eventually we all drifted off to our respective homes, and I had a lot of powdered sugar to clean up.
And now I think I shall have another cookie.
Technically I've finished high-school. I really don't feel as though I've finished high-school at all. I'd elaborate, but I'm happy just now, and don't want to spoil it. But, blimey. A whole year and a half until I've got to be in school again. Disconcerting feeling. Now I've just got to a) find a school, and b) actually get into it. Well, I've got a thesis paper to write over the summer, anyway; that should keep the vertigo at bay. I'm actually slightly excited about this, even: I'm going to write about traditional folk ballads in Britain, centring on some specific ones I haven't chosen yet (though "The House Carpenter" is a likely candidate), and how they migrated to the United States, and how they were affected by culture, and culture was affected by them. This paper will require me to hunt up a lot of traditional ballads and listen to them, and read a lot of books about folk music and traditional ballads and field recording and suchlike, which I'm sure will be very draining and unpleasant for me. And, uh, hey, any help would be amazing. I kind of don't know where to start just now. Anybody know good books about the ballad tradition? (...also, anybody have really awesome versions of "Tam Lin", aside from ones by Fairport Convention and Mediaeval Baebes? That's not related to the paper, because as far as I know "Tam Lin" didn't migrate, or at least not prominently, but I've recently gained an extreme fixation on this ballad, for reasons I will probably explain later. (YOU WILL ALL LAUGH AT ME.))
Also, have been having a lot of fun lately, hobnobbing with the gang. The Quill and Ink Society had its third meeting in the Huss' gazebo, which was really a very romantic spot in which to write, and socialise in general, although we were attacked by horrible winged and be-stingered vermin several times, and some cookies mysteriously vanished. If one were to look at the transcripts of our meetings (uh, yes, we take minutes. because we're nutters.) it would look very much as though no writing at all ever got done, but we do, in fact, do quite a lot. In between fandom quotage and fangirling and kicking people in the shins and discovering the follies of whipped cream and electing people to the club's cabinet and such things.
In the end, we all migrated to the tire swing. At once. Sarah has got some very amusing pictures of Hannah, Victoria, and I all attempting to crowd on at once, or trying to throw everyone else off. Eventually we behaved ourselves, and I stole Sarah's camera and took pictures. Everybody was very graceful, swooping back and forth, except for me, because I am apparently cursed. I could not stop crashing into the tree (in retrospect, that must be the reason for the really weird not-quite-rash I discovered on my shoulder-blade this morning), nor could I go straight for the life of me. Then people attempted to swing-dance, and I took more pictures, and people lay on the grass, and I took more pictures still. (They were being very picturesque. I couldn't help myself.)
Today the weather was gloriously warm, and just cloudy enough to keep the sun from being a nuisance, and bicycling to my guitar lesson was very enjoyable, as was beginning to learn Eisley's "Many Funerals", which is very fun to play because of the lick in between the verses. And I kind of sort of bought a milkshake at McDonalds on the way home. Since I now have a basket attached to my bicycle (very useful; I can fit an entire gallon and a half of milk in there), I drank it on the way home, listening to songs which made me very happy, and then I baked my cookies. Or started to, because Sarah showed up at my door and invited me to come along with everyone to Hockman's, where a lot of delicious chocolate was purchased for consummation, and much banter was bantered, and some of us were nearly thrown into the street by certain persons intolerant of the undead. There was hanging out in the church basement, and discussion of Angel, and Alessandra was doing a film project with Sarah and Hannah, so I scarpered for what was meant to be a few minutes to check on my cookies, only it turned out to be a lot of minutes, because the oven was being psychotic. At any rate, cookies were at last had, and eventually we all drifted off to our respective homes, and I had a lot of powdered sugar to clean up.
And now I think I shall have another cookie.