Wet Wet Wet*
Hampshire has been cancelled till further notice; we’re under water. Southampton train station was closed today due to flooding–Southampton being our main metropolis, so that’s serious closing. I wouldn’t want to be at Waterloo this evening, looking at the departure boards. I think I’ve already posted about the winter of 2000/1 when we had five foot of water in the cellar at the old house and every morning you ran downstairs and flung open the cellar door and looked to see if it had risen any higher: the people nearer the road were wearing waders in their sitting room.** And all the roads were flooded: you had to get in and out by farm track. Times like these living in a town on high ground feels like a really good idea. Although it becomes moot as soon as you become an island and the delivery lorries can’t get in and out. However I saw a big truck outside Tesco’s today while the hellhounds and I were failing to dash between the raindrops so I guess we get to eat another day at least. And the weather tomorrow should be better. I hope so. The kitchen hung with wet hellhound towels and really soaking All Stars is not amusing; neither is getting a crick in your neck staring out the window and hoping for a break in the downpour. We did get our break this afternoon, and we went out and cantered through the surf with the wind in our hair, and didn’t feel at all like an ad for gracious living.
And I haven’t even mentioned the gale force winds. The rain is being driven so hard that it’s coming through the crack in my stable-style front door, despite the jigsaw fit between the two pieces which is supposed to prevent exactly this. So I have water running down the inside of my door and pooling on the floor. I don’t have any spare towels left. I woke up a couple of times last night to the shrieks of the wind monster clawing at the window-frames. Indeed I even slept in this morning. I should have got up as usual and gone to my desk since I couldn’t take the hellhounds out, but the water was cascading down my bedroom window like someone was standing on the roof*** and pouring it out of a pitcher while the wind grabbed the eaves and screamed. And I opened one eye, muttered, eff this for a lark, closed the eye again, and suddenly it was an hour later. I took hellhounds out because I had to but we were all soaked through in a quarter hour–even in heavy rain we can usually hang tough for thirty minutes. Not today. Later on I managed to get them out for twenty minutes. When we walked–I mean hurtled–past the church the wind was having a go at ripping the flagpole off the top of the tower. The delphiniums, as I write, are still standing. Tiny walled gardens also have their virtues.
I’ve spent most of my working day composing. I hate it when a story doesn’t want me around for a day or two; it makes me feel unreal. Self identified as a writer? You can’t begin to guess. But now that I’ve discovered composing there’s at least somewhere for all that anxiety to go, other than gnawing its way up and down my stomach lining, I mean. I’ve been working on Song II–you may remember that when I took it in to Ossin the first time and the second time he kept talking to me about Benjamin Britten and speech rhythms, and sent me away again. One of the many things on this extremely steep learning curve I’m having trouble with is the idea that you can just up and change your time signature as often as you like–every bar if it suits you and your speech rhythms. I’m used to thinking that you find your time signature and then you stay there: it’s something you get to lean on. Nope. No eternal verities. Furthermore there’s four verses to Song II and–back in the soft days when I thought I was writing in 3/4–I also thought I could repeat one for three. Nope. Not that either: the speech rhythm changes. Feh. And even I knew at the outset that you don’t want to set it di dah di dah di dah di dah,† which would be very boring. I’ve got far enough this time I’m starting to put the left hand in. Wheeee. I hope Ossin doesn’t rip it all back out again, like a crooked seam.
But I’ve also been banging away at Song II for so long–especially with these enforced pauses for ME attacks, speaking of booooring–that I was starting to worry that I’d lose being able to ‘hear’ it, which is just like being able to ‘hear’ a story, only different,†† so–which is the same sort of just what I do when I’m afraid I’m on the edge of rewriting a story once too often–I started setting another poem. More wheeee. This one is not a mournful ballad so I can finally get out of D minor. I couldn’t live without D minor.††† But the speech rhythms are all new and strange, almost conversational, not ballady at all, oooh, new stuff, coool. Ouch goes the brain: Hey, anything interesting on television–?
Oh but the real news [sic] is . . . I’ve been singing. Sic. Out walking with the hellhounds. It makes them nervous. They keep turning around and looking at me anxiously. Is she in pain? Should we run away and find someone and bark significantly while waving a front paw‡ in an explicatory manner? It’s worse than that too because not only is it a frightful noise but the only songs I seem to remember the words to are even more frightful. Imagine having a lovely walk through the Hampshire countryside‡‡ when your idyll is interrupted by the not-distant-enough sound of someone bellowing Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes or Shall We Gather at the River. I’d better settle on the tune to Song II soon, so I can start learning to sing that, which is where we came in. . . .
* * *
* I’m feeling very 80s. The ME, the hellhounds and I^ spent some time on the sofa this afternoon and I watched an episode of Beauty and the Beast, which I haven’t seen in decades. Oh those 80s shoulders. Oh those 80s hemlines. Oh the gorgeousness of Linda Hamilton. And oh the incredibly seductive tripe of the set up: All the money you could possibly want so you can have the fab apartment and the even more fab clothes (and in spite of the shoulders a lot of them still look pretty amazing, although some of that is just Linda Hamilton reflection, like putting a mirror behind a vase of roses) . . . and work for the DA’s office because you have Ideals. Oh yes and the telepathic bond with the big hairy guy who lives in the cellars, so you can get in all the trouble rescuing innocents^^ you could possibly want to get into because at the last possible minute in any deadly confrontation there will be a roaring noise and all the bad guys will fly across the room/landscape and whang into a wall/tree and fall unconscious to the floor/ground. And there will be a hairy shadow looming in the general direction of said succour from which briefly emerges our shaggy hero so he and Linda can exchange anguished looks redolent of telepathic bonding and hopeless love. And then you, I mean Linda, can escape without wasting time finding out if the bad guys are dead or merely unconscious. I mean, they’re bad guys. It’s a great life, I want it. ^^^ The best bit really is the enchanted underground world. All that beneath Manhattan, I had no idea. Although it perhaps does help explain why the storm sewers and things collapse so often. I’m afraid the moments when Cathy and Vincent stand around making poetic welding noises at each other generally make me reach for the book I could be reading, although the millions of candles on the balcony look is very appealing.
I’m a trifle fascinated that it’s being run over here at all however, let alone a quarter century after its prime. If they’re into historical American TV I wish they’d run Murphy Brown. Which started in the 80s with a similar hemline problem.
^ Sigh . . .
^^ I’m getting my low-fantasy TV programmes mixed up here. Speaking of ME and the sofa, I discovered Charmed during the eighteen months I spent horizontal eight years ago.
^^^ Preferably without the shoulders however.
** True. It got on national TV.
*** Given the pitch of the roof, this would be a very good trick.
† Microsoft keeps trying to change this to did ah did ah did ah. GO AWAY.
†† No, I’m not trying to be a cow. It just works out that way.
††† Actually it’s not D minor, it’s A minor. Except the way I’m using it it’s D minor only without the Bb. I basically have no idea. I’m not really too swift at this music thing.
‡ That’ll be Darkness then. Chaos doesn’t believe in paw-waving. Sigh.
‡‡ The ‘lovely’ is assuming you’re not up to your knees in mud and constantly being bashed by dripping half-fallen-over shrubbery.
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********** I’m used to thinking that you find your time signature and then you stay there: it’s something you get to lean on.
This sounds much like ringing inside – not always a lot to lean on – and speech patterns are familiar for a novelist with a gift for strong characterisation – so it’s all playing (lol) to your strengths then …
********* Is she in pain? Should we run away and find someone and bark significantly while waving a front paw‡ in an explicatory manner?
I KNEW you’d gone way ahead of me – you’re training an assistance dog (that’ll be Darkness!) – but does he know that he may be needed to assist his somewhat “other” talented young brother????
I’ll have to send you ‘fo on other author assistance tasks – retrieving the laptop you threw at the wall, cute tricks for book tours to take the heat off the other end of the lead, knocking the phone off the hook and barking until the emergency services arrive, for when you get too focussed on writing to feed the hounds…
Any others you want me to add, Darkness? … OK, I’ll go and check how to train humans to do that…
ROTFL!!!!!!! –some day, I PROMISE, I will post about teaching . . . make that TRYING to teach . . . Chaos to wave a paw.
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I’ll look forward to watching you all roll around in circles as a threesome trying to teach/learn in front of webcam… Just warn me so I can have tissues at the ready for wiping tears from my eyes so I can see…
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. . . Oh, flapdoodle! This thing appears to have EATEN my reply! I said, oh gods (or thereabouts), it hadn’t OCCURRED to me to try to webcam teaching Chaos to wave a paw!!!! Yeep! Too awful! While Darkness is busy behaving like he’s in permanent tryouts for the Folies Bergere!!!!
YAAY!
for singing! Hooray!
[3 cheers! Hip hip HOORAY! Hip hip HOORAY! Hip Hip HOORAY!!!!!]
Also: A minor- most of the songs I composed
(and played, for that matter), seemed to be in A minor. Fun key to play in. Actually, I did quite enjoy the scales and cadences and so on that I had to play for A minor — maybe because I knew them the best, having played them so many times!
–Just got back and realized hadn’t sent this comment yet: my brother caught a garter snake that had managed to get into the house, and we all went out to play with / look at / hold /set it free.
It was kinda cute, actually.
:)
So hooray again for singing and working on Song II and everything. You are awesome.
And *evil ME go away! Leave her alone!” [makes scary face to frighten ME away]
candles lit. offers of chocolate and cookies and hugs and so on.
oh, and broccoli too.
yum.
And one more huzzah, for good measure. HUZZAH!
–Julia
Green snakes are pretty. I kind of like snakes, but I’ve never had to deal with poisonous ones. We had copperheads in Maine and we have adders over here, but I’ve never met one, I@m happy to say.
You are awesome.
******* I am NOT awesome! I am OUT OF MY TINY MIDDLE AGED MIND! . . . But there it is. I am.
Keep making the scary face, please. I am **really, really** tired of the ME.
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SCARY FACE
chocolate for Robin.
(am I allowed to call you Robin?)
(not in real life, I mean. But here?)
more chocolate.
SCARY FACE
… I am just in the mood, too. Either am going to collapse from exhaustion, or growl convincingly, terrifyingly, and THEN collapse from exhaustion– just walked in from work[at the library, filling in for my sister], and there was ten million carts worth of shelving to do, all piled on three carts. And it didn’t STOP all day- people kept coming in with fifty books, and having all kinds of obscure problems to deal with, and ………… when I left at 7, the carts looked like no shelving had been done at all, and every single available INCH of counter space were covered in stacks of books.
Yaargh.
Sigh.
I hate leaving while it looks a mess, but I had to be home. Oh well.
So yeah.
Scary face. Grrrr. GO AWAY, ME. RIGHT NOW! before I have to jump on an airplane and fly to England [carrying suitcases full of chocolate, and chocolate chip cookies, of course] to scare you away myself. Humph. Do you hear me, thou evil thing? Do you? I may be short, but I am more intimidating than I look. All those encyclopedias and things I carry around at the library made me strong. So hah. Depart! Fleeee! Before I have to attack with a dictionary!
… hope that works!
Or at least makes you laugh.
:)
And to me, in my very humble opinion, you are pretty awesome. One can be awesome and out of her mind at the same time, you know. But you really are just the former, pretending to be the latter when it suits you. [Haha! I'm on to you! heeheee]
Okay, I’m done babbling now.
More chocolate, for good measure.
And a great big hug.
HUG.
–Julia
Good grief, of course you call me Robin. What else would you call me? Ms McKinley? Yeeep.
And, now you mention it, I’ve been a little better today. :)
Uh oh. Now I made you *yeep*. Guess that means it is official. After all, I have been writing to/posting/commenting/annoying you via Days In The Life since late October, I believe. And the whole time strenuously avoiding addressing you or referring to you in third person (i.e. as Robin), because felt it may be rude or something. But then, after all the babbling I’ve done, it seems only right.
But I just wanted to make sure, before I wrote “ME, leave Robin alone” type thing, just in case, you know. Respectful, because you are awesomederful (if you won’t accept being awesome, then how about awesomederful?)
…
So yeah.
I’m very glad that you are feeling even a bit better.
SCARY FACE and CHOCOLATE for good measure.
Plus hugs.
Keep feeling better… that is a good place to be. Happy thoughts sent your way!
–Julia
And I’m even a little bit betterer today. :) And yes, ‘Ms McKinley’ comes not amiss from someone I’ve never hung out with, but you HAVE BEEN AROUND a while. :)
Well, okay then.
It’s true. I have.
:)
How odd. Now that I have official permission, I am finding it difficult to type your name. Because I was only using it in referring to you, not addressing you… here goes:
Hello Robin!
[I just went "eeeek!!" on the inside. Sigh. I can babble at you for months, but now-- because or despite, I'm not sure which-- you have said that I may call you something other than Ms. McKinley, I cringe inside at the temerity of my addressing you in such a familiar fashion. I never hesitated to blather on ridiculously, [well, I did. But then I got over it. Blathering is a particular talent of mine, it seems.], offer advice and even eventually hugs and laughter, as well as groveling before you and then begging forgiveness via virtual chocolate chip cookies……
But just thinking that I called you Robin! Eeek! How dare I?
Oh well, you did say I was allowed. But if I keep going on like this, the privilege may be revoked. So I’ll stop now…]
I am DELIGHTED that you are “even a little bit betterer today” .
HOORAY!
Now, tomorrow, I hope you are even more ‘even a little bit [more] [well, actually a little bit a LOT more] betterer’!
Hugs for Robin! (See, I can write it like that without my fingers trying to go back and delete it. Hmmmm.)
Hugs, chocolate,
and SCARY FACE at the rain attacking your beautiful roses, as well as making a general nuisance of itself.
And SCARIER face at the ME. GO AWAY, I say!
…and take the rain clouds with you.
Humph.
heehee.
:)
–Julia
>>* I’m feeling very 80s. The ME, the hellhounds and I^ spent some time on the sofa this afternoon and I watched an episode of Beauty and the Beast, which I haven’t seen in decades. <>Hampshire has been cancelled till further notice;<<
I LOVE this comment! (And if it’s any consolation, I think Berkshire/Buckinghamshire are ALSO cancelled till further notice – It really is foul out there isn’t it? – And my roof is leaking…)
*pokes the weather pixies for being little ratbags*
Oh, leaky roof–ewwwwwwww.
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Okay, the blog pixies seem to have chewed a chunk out of my comment!!! There was something in there about my remembering watching Beauty and the Beast as a kid, and possibly something else as well.
Oh well, ain’t technology grand?
*eyes formerly dripping ceiling warily and crosses fingers*
Define ‘grand’. :)
**Define ‘grand’. :)**
Hmmm, well in this instance the definition would probably contain the phrase “total, utter pain in the bl**dy *rse…”
*attempts to look innocent and as if such words couldn’t POSSIBLY have passed these lips…*
*fails miserably*
Yes, that sounds about right. :)
Oooh, lots of rain. We had HOT today (87F) with a side of HUMIDITY, and a brief pause for rain, which brought the temperature down by 15 degrees. Thank GOD. *dies of gross* (However, I was just complaining the other day that I was trying to write something where it was dark, hot, and humid, but it was sunny and bright and cool out. How was I supposed to get in the mood like that? Dear universe: learn to take a joke!)
I remember Beauty and the Beast — barely. I remember I liked it a lot, though. I bet I’d still like it. Not that we need to buy more TV shows.
Still looking forward to hearing Song I and II. ;) *waits patiently*
Oh, humid heat, the WORST. And of course England does tend to do the humid with the heat . . . we can have HUMID heat in a DROUGHT, it’s NOT FAIR. I lived in Wash DC for a couple of years and the summers pretty well killed me . . . I’m on my eighteenth life at least. . . .
Your MOTHER watched B&B while she was PREGNANT with you. You do NOT remember it, except with a background of your mom’s heartbeat. . . . But, yeah. If you DID need to buy more TV shows.
Go on waiting. :) It’s going to be a while. Although there’s now Song I, II, and III. The first one is more or less finished, but it DOESN’T HAVE WORDS. *Whew.* How stupid *am* I, that I really WANT to set poems??
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Humid heat is *terrible*. I had it in Texas, now I have it here. I’m…about two hours away from DC. It probably isn’t the same, since I don’t live in a city (living in a city would make it worse, I think, although sometimes there is the very country stench of cow poo out here…), but it’s still definitely *ungood.*
And I *did* watch Beauty and the Beast! Possibly just the reruns, though. ;) I also have vague memories of The Flash TV show, and…something else.
Ooooh! Something else! Wow! :)
*snort*
Not being one of those snazzy people who can recall crystal clear details from their childhood (let alone what I did yesterday!), I’m pretty happy I got that much! ;)
Warning . . . it gets WORSE. . . . :( What did you say my name was again? Are you SURE?
Your name is Yo McKinley, of course! Geeze, lady, get a name tag! ;)
Oh, that’s an idea! Actually, I still have mine from Wiscon hanging on the wall . . . it says ROBIN MCKINLEY. I hadn’t heard of ‘Yo’ as a nickname for Robin before but . . .
As the saying goes “You usually have great weather in a drought.” !!
So it is blue skies and sunshine for us. I’m out there trying to get my grass to grow. It’s had several pep talks (“you’ve had some rain… that’s handy” “look the sun is nice and warm… come up and play!”) but it is being a little sluggish. It turned cold a little quickly and so the grass is feeling sulky. (“don’t *wanna*. it’s *cold* out there”)
if you could siphon off some excess from over there to send our way then we would be appreciative. :) I have some spare towels here that could be sent your way in exchange. They haven’t been doing much here…..
“You usually have great weather in a drought.” !!
*****No. It’s usually too HOT. Don’t LIKE hot. I like *traditional* English weather. I’m *happy* to wear a single woolly jumper all year long (and add a second in the winter). And mist and fog are good for your skin. It’s this crash bang whang extreme whiplash thing I do NOT like.
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Aaahhhh … in other words you would prefer to visit Australia during a drought in our *winter*. Cool. Dry. Sunny. ;) And we get that dry heat here so even when it is hot it is still not as bad as going to Qld in summer (sorry to all the Qlders in the humid areas) or DC. Trust me.
Lambs love it …. but the ewes are usually hungry……
Roses love it … as long as their feet have some moisture and mulch.
But I still would like some rain …. *sigh*
I used to be a huge fan of Beauty and the Beast, romantic and all. Hadn’t thought of that in years. If you think Linda Hamilton now (what is she doing now? I will have to Google) you think Terminator.
And singing while you walk – march – hurtle along, well, of course. I try to limit myself in town to humming (my singing would endanger passers by) but when I’m walking in the countryside, striding along I always sing. Awful embarrassing things like Oklahoma! Zippyty Doo-da, I’m following the leader, 10 green bottles, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, Kokoraki. Something with rhythm and where I remember enough of the lyrics to get by. Well, it keeps the wild animals at bay!
Rain? What is that? We need some over here. We are now in drought, unfortunately. We hope not for too long.
What happened to MODERATION? A little rain, a little sun? –I suppose levelling the rain forest and the internal combustion engine is what happened to moderation.
Gods help me I sing Sweeney Todd. This is NOT a good idea when your tune-carrying is shaky at best.
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The image of you, Chaos and Darkness running/strolling/being dragged/dragging/catapulting through the English countryside, while singing Sweeney Todd…
I told you that you are awesome. Why don’t you listen!?
My theatre major friends constantly find themselves doing this- sans hellhounds, but you know: actually my friend has a photo up on Facebook with the caption: “Before 7 am, rainbows and blue sky type day. Green trees. Sunlight.. Most people are half asleep. Or completely asleep. Then, the lone voice, breaking into song. Singing Sweeney Todd. You know you are a theatre major when…”
:)
–Julia
Heavens! I was never a theatre major! :) And frankly my own awfulness is a *comfort*. If I weasel out of web camming any of my musical adventures I’ll know it was a GOOD weasel rather than a weasel weasel. Talk about negative motivation. . . . If I ever get any of it TOGETHER I’ll be in BIG trouble.
The web cam is on the list. But I won’t know till I get there just how drastic an epic it’s going to be. I’ve had ENOUGH problems with STILL photos.
Oh … forgot to add…. you realise this is all because you *complained* about having to water pot plants….. ;) (Not sure why this tactic isn’t working for me though.)
Maybe you need to send me a handful of sand and I need to send you a rain-balled rose, and then at the next full moon we . . . I dunno, do *something* . . .
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Speaking of ME and the sofa, I discovered Charmed during the eighteen months I spent horizontal eight years ago.
I love Charmed. It is absolutely my favorite ridiculously campy and silly tv show. I own the entire series on dvd (thanks to 4 years of my sister buying them for me for xmases and birthdays) and I just finished watching season 3 (again). I’m putting off starting season 4 because there is an episode near the beginning that always makes me cry a lot (I cried just telling my sister what happened in it – it is definitely one of the most powerful episodes in the whole series).
I find it ridiculously moreish. Every time I have had enough of the make up and the cleavage there’s a dead-on bit about life or families or loyalty or something–or maybe just a particularly good demon–and I’m right back there again. And, you know, three (or four) strong women sorting out the universe themselves . . . what’s not to like?
Which ep at the beginning of season 4?
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Yes, I agree completely.
The beginning of season 4 is when Paige comes onto the scene and episode 4 is “Hell Hath No Fury”, when Piper turns into a Fury.
I have an older sister and we fight like cats and dogs sometimes but we’re really like this *crosses fingers* and every time I watch that episode, I think about how much I love her and how awful it would be if anything happened to her and I freaking bawl. Even talking about that episode makes me cry – I told my sister about it the other day, when I’d finished s3, and it was a good thing we were chatting online, not talking on the phone.
Ah. Yes. I thought they did that very well–it’s a good example of why, for all its silliness, CHARMED is so hooky. They get important stuff right. They don’t always get it right, but often enough to keep your attention.
Absolutely. There are things they don’t do right at all (I would like to say, I can’t stand Billy) but then I remember this episode that I really liked…and then there was that one…and that other one, ok, so it was cheesy, but even so…and…
I also love their guests stars. I watch movies and other tv shows and it’s just hilarious how often I say “wait, I recognize that person, who is that?….oh yeah! they were a demon on Charmed!” It cracks my sister up.
Speaking of tv shows that just get some things right, did you ever catch Blood Ties?
The guest stars are patchy. There are the good ones and then there are the BAAAAAD ones. I think most of the guys are icky–I like Leo, and of course the original Demon Lover, speaking of a face you see elsewhere–but I think I’m probably too old to be allowed an opinion on this. :)
*****I watched an episode of Beauty and the Beast, which I haven’t seen in decades. … And there will be a hairy shadow looming in the general direction of said succour from which briefly emerges our shaggy hero so he and Linda can exchange anguished looks redolent of telepathic bonding and hopeless love. … I’m afraid the moments when Cathy and Vincent stand around making poetic welding noises at each other generally make me reach for the book I could be reading … *****
When that show was on in prime time, a friend of mine told me I would really like it because I was a fan of intense romanticism. So I gave it a try one night. And we came to The Speeches. And it was just like BusinessSpeak. Completely grammatically correct — and completely content-free. It all sounded lovely and poetic, but they weren’t saying anything to each other. Drove me crazy. So I didn’t watch it again.
*****you may remember that when I took it in to Ossin the first time and the second time he kept talking to me about Benjamin Britten and speech rhythms, and sent me away again. … I hope Ossin doesn’t rip it all back out again, like a crooked seam. *****
Everything you said here I remember — but I don’t remember Oisin becomming Ossin. Did I miss that?
*****Oh but the real news [sic] is . . . I’ve been singing. Sic. Out walking with the hellhounds. It makes them nervous.*****
(*grin*) Uh oh. Now they’ll be humiliated in front of their frends, like, forever, Ma. ;-) All of my dogs have reacted similarly when I have sung in their presence — and I know how to do it correctly, so don’t take it personally; they all do that! It could be worse; you could have one who tries to sing along; that could be interpreted as a complaint that you’re hurting his ears.
We WILL be wanting a webcam recording of Song II, you know, sung by you yourself, you know…. (Think of it this way: it will get you out of blogging some night when you’re really, really tired. :-) )
Judith
(*grin*) Uh oh. Now they’ll be humiliated in front of their frends, like, forever, Ma. ;-) All of my dogs have reacted similarly when I have sung in their presence — and I know how to do it correctly, so don’t take it personally; they all do that! It could be worse; you could have one who tries to sing along; that could be interpreted as a complaint that you’re hurting his ears.
******** No, I’m afraid it’s going to dawn on them that I’m . . . vocalising . . . like THEY do and suddenly they’ll cheer right up AND JOIN IN. But the embarrassment . . . yes. I realise that dogs are mostly NOT like children but there are similiarities. Picking up constantly after the little slobs is one (although with dogs there’s no QUESTION of teaching them to pick up after themselves, so at least you can just get ON with it). and the sense that sometimes they really wish you *wouldn’t* do that in public. . . .
We WILL be wanting a webcam recording of Song II, you know, sung by you yourself, you know…. (Think of it this way: it will get you out of blogging some night when you’re really, really tired. :-) )
********* I’ll be really, really tired from the STRESS of trying to make a recording that does NOT make me want to kill myself on playback. :) But, yeah. It does seem to me at some level if I’m going to do this at all, I should at least make the *attempt* to do it hell for leather, and that would mean doing it for you too. But don’t hold your breath. I haven’t got the thing WRITTEN yet . . .
Judith
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Oh dear, it sounds like the weird weather demons have moved across the pond. All of you, be safe and stay as dry as you can.
“They keep turning around and looking at me anxiously. Is she in pain? Should we run away and find someone and bark significantly while waving a front paw‡ in an explicatory manner?”
Chaos? Darkness? What is it? Robin’s down the well? The barn’s on fire and Timmie’s stuck inside? Lassie with hellhounds. Hee. Darkness will wave a paw, Chaos will bark significantly, and all will be resolved.
Pets, sorry, non-human family members do not understand this “singing” the humans do – the last time I danced around the den singing along with KT Tunstall, I got some really weird looks from the cats, who thought I was in horrible pain, or perhaps had fleas. Or they could just have been afraid I’d tread on them. They will keep getting underfoot, silly moggies.
Good on you with the singing. If you enjoy it, why not?
Sending vibes for better weather – this is getting rather ridiculous, not to mention worrisome.
Given their talent at vocalese, they’re just going to decide to *join in.* I’m grateful they sleep through my piano playing. :)
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I don’t think D minor WORKS without the B-flat. It’s almost like D harmonic minor, but then it acts like D MELODIC minor and it gets VERY odd. I wouldn’t recommend it. Because I am SO good with music theory (scoff scoff scoff).
Good for you! I love it when people start singing. But that could just be because I love singing and want people to share in my joy, which they may or may not while singing. I’m still happy for you.
One of my cats always tries to climb in my lap and paw (gently, no claws) at my mouth when I sing, and most especially when I belt. Since I also have a tendency for singing in the shower, this means she paws at the shower door and even braves the water a bit in her anxiety to find out what’s wrong with my mouth. It’s apparently not supposed to do that.
LOL! Gallant cat!
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Ah, spring, refreshing showers, gentle breezes. etc. etc.–lyric poetry manages to perpetuate awful BS. I had a report from my husband that yesterday a tornado flattened a chunk of a small town about 50 miles north of us (and I took the opportunity to remind him about not ignoring tornado warnings, too). Sympathetic thoughts to you and the hellhounds, and may the rain and wind stop soon.
(Even as I write, the Weather Channel is recapping storm damage from yesterday and the likelihood of severe weather tomorrow. It’s a theme this year.)
Oh heavens, Beauty and the Beast–that does carry one back. As I recall there usually was no question about the bad guys–weren’t their oddly-mauled remains the subject of sporadic ineffective investigations by other people in the DA’s office?
Good for you, singing. And out in the open, too. How about Border (or other) ballads as a change from parlor songs? Sex, betrayal, murder, revenge, and good tunes–hard to beat. And about the composing–are you just thinking about Britten’s settings, or do you have, say, Schubert in mind as well?
We’re supposed to have torrential rain AGAIN TONIGHT. So I was tying up bits of the garden both retroactively AND foreshadowingly. And I put Souvenir’s raincoat back on. Sigh.
Yes, the problem with B&B as with every other programme that is the victim of its own success–BUFFY pops immediately to mind–is that to keep it going it has to get more COMPLICATED and eventually it just bogs down under the load of accumulated details. I can think of some book series the same . . . the bottom line is that I don’t myself write sequels because sequels don’t present themselves to me, but I’m consciously aware that sequels inevitably bear the potential for this problem.
Yes, those are the lyrics I’m planning on looking up: nice simple strong tunes, nice simple blood and death and abandonment. I’ve got Child, what am I waiting for? (Time, time . . . )
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. . . Sorry, missed saying, mostly I think about Britten because he’s slightly more possible for me to get some of my head around some of . . . but yeah, if I want to embarrass myself TOTALLY in public here, yes, Schubert too. Although not so much hmm, how is he doing that? as just inspiration. It’s funny how it goes in sort of layers or something–I’m still a Verdi girl but I don’t listen to him for anything I’m going to be able to use. Schubert is a step closer because he’s writing songs, and he wrote a lot of folksong based songs too. Britten is a step closer yet because, well, he’s modern, and Mozart may be the Man but I was *alive* when Britten was writing. And the ‘in English’ I have to say is also an advantage. . . . Besides, as I get the hang of it–IF I’m getting the hang of it–this changing time sigs for speech rhythms is kind cool. . . . I’m still clueless and 55 years old, though. I actually do hope I manage to web cam some of this at some point, but don’t be expecting much, okay?
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“Hampshire has been cancelled till further notice; we’re under water. ”
Awful, wasn’t it! We had the rain and gales too (we currently have that most unusual and interesting of garden features, a moated greenhouse) but I gather your neck of the woods was even worse. Please keep your fingers crossed and/or make appropriate sacrifices to the Hampshire rain gods so that I don’t actually have to swim from Portsmouth Harbour station to the IoW foot ferry on Thursday morning. It’s supposed to be drier by then but…
I did wonder if you were going to anywhere inconvenient recently. And I like that past tense ‘wasn’t it’. I’m still *bailing.* The garden, anyway.
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Come to think of it, the slight dampness in the atmosphere over the last couple of days is really All Your Fault! I refer you to the first * footnote in your post entitled ‘I ate lunch in my garden today… My, you really threw the gauntlet down, didn’t you! :)
I can’t be sharp and alert all the time! I’m a poor stupid feeble thing! It’s not FAIR of the universe to take me up like that!!!
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And besides, I COVERED myself! I ALSO said it was definitely GOING to rain, because Souvenir was about to come out!!!!!
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Ooohhhh …. so that is what caused it! All over the UK there were thousands of Souvenir about to break into bloom! At the same time! Such an mass blooming was *bound* to cause an extreme weather event!!
;)
Yup. That’ll be it. :)
“I ALSO said it was definitely GOING to rain, because Souvenir was about to come out!!!!!”
True, very true. So with those two incentives in place for the Rain Gods – your multimedia grumbling about pot watering AND having Souvenir at that stage, I’m surprised that you didn’t think to ring up the Meteorological Office so that they could broadcast warnings after the 6 pm BBC news… In fact, I think the Environment Agency better take you on its staff: ‘We don’t need to spend £X million on new flood defences all over the place, we have The Mckinley Function!’ :)
I want *Camelot.* Where it rains after sunset. Regularly. And only.
Camelot, as in
“Where once it never rained till after sundown,
By eight a.m. the morning fog had flown…
Don’t let it be forgot
That once there was a spot
For one brief shining moment that was known
As Camelot.”
That Camelot?
{Julie Andrews singing in my head for a minute there…}
:)
–Julia
BatB finally came out on DVD in the U.S.–I haven’t snagged my copies yet but I’m looking forward to watching something better than very old, fuzzy, spotty tapes. What I could never figure out, though, is why she couldn’t just commute…
Well, presumably because till he went nuts Vincent was determined they were not going to . . . and why bother if they weren’t going to . . . ? I probably *won’t* buy the DVDs; they’d just be another drawerful of stuff I don’t get around to, and as I keep moaning, I now live in a SMALL space.
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“Oh but the real news [sic] is . . . I’ve been singing.”
YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYY!!!!!!!!!!! WOO-HOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m delighted you are singing! Given the weather, you might try “Singing in the Rain” next time you hurtle hellhounds!!!
Yay for singing!
Smiles,
JM in KC
You’re *how* many thousands of miles away? You can *afford* to yay for my singing. :) (I have to look up some more LYRICS.)
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Yes, but I YAY for any and all singing!! Everyone, vocalize! For other fun hellhound-hurtling lyrics, you might try some John Denver…I had him stuck in my head all this past weekend, for some strange reason, so someone else should get him OUT of my head and into theirs! (here, I’ll help you…”rocky mountain HIIIIIIIIIGGGGHHHHHHH…”)
Also, in the interest of furthering your composing career (ahem), for silly and fun lyrics, you might investigate a book I have had since childhood called “Soupsongs” by Ogden Nash, I think. They might make for a fun composing change-of-pace! :-)
Gods! All you music teachers think alike! When I first said I wanted to set poems, Oisin, looking worried, said instantly, fine. But only Ogden Nash. :)
LOL!
Ah, Beauty and the Beast–how I loved that show!! Then seeing her in Terminator II, later–my god, are those the same biceps? Oh, now you’ve made me all nostalgic… I wonder if it’s on Netflix…
And as long as we’re talking about fantabulous fantasy TV, have you encountered a short-lived Brit show from the early 90′s called “She-wolf of London”? I fell hard for this in repeats when I was in grad school–it’s very much like proto-Buffy in both tone and topic, and cleverly written–but tragically it was cancelled after only a single season.
I am still alive, though the drive home yesterday was nothing short of hellish in its final hours. So much for holiday weekend…
I loved it and giggled all at the same time. I was *completely* aware of being manipulated out of my little cotton socks but I still kept tuning in. And Hamilton in Term II–!!! I don’t even go for girls and . . .
I have never HEARD of She Wolf. I don’t suppose there’s anywhere one can see a sample ep?
We are very glad you’re still alive. Poor you. I’m glad there wasn’t a resident stomach bug the year I was at Wiscon, I find conventions difficult enough. Having said that possibly the worst night/day of my life was spent in a German hotel and I was only there because *Peter* was GoH. . . .
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Oh my, yes…. Linda Hamilton was one of those who confirmed for me that indeed, I did quite like girls myself. :) And I must say that the current TV show, Sarah Connor Chronicles, has done Linda justice by casting Lena Headey in the role. Badass, redux. Lord, please let that show get renewed for fall 08….
As to She-Wolf, I find there are multiple clips from episodes on YouTube, but they seem to be 3 minute clips out of context. Let me see what a little research can unearth. What I really loved about the thing was that her being a werewolf was really just a plot thread–the bulk of the show was she and her “Giles” doing occult investigations, ostensibly to find a cure for her. But only 1 out of 4 weekly eps saw her actually turn into a werewolf (and it was very American Werewolf style, kind of horrible transformation and of course she’s not at all friendly when it happens.) Mostly it was just Buffy-style, Scooby-Doo monster-hunting, and I would be very surprised if Joss W. were not familiar with the show. Buffy the film came out the year after this was cancelled.
Plague-con was interesting, after it became known that there was something being passed around everyone got very paranoid; volunteers were recruited to stand by the tables at all the parties wearing rubber gloves, a la the Blue Hand Men in Firefly, handing out little plates of the chips and M&M’s that the night before had been freely grabbed by the handful. Hand sanitizer dispensers appeared everywhere, as if by magic. But too late for me, alas. Oh well, I’m taking nourishment in the form of popsicles today and it seems to be working out just fine so far…
Jeez, the things we don’t get over here: no Murphy Brown, no Sarah Connor Chronicles. (Lena looks pretty cute too. Does she have the muscles? She gotta have the muscles.) But, why do I care? I NEVER WATCH TV, I DON’T HAVE TIME. The real purpose of the ME is to force me to catch up on my TV programmes . . . sigh. . . ..
I hope you move on to scrambled eggs soon. :) (Unless of course you’re one of those unfortunates who don’t like scrambled eggs.)
Love scrambled eggs. Preferably with cheese; but right now I’m a little leery of dairy.
Lena’s definitely ripped. And does a tough-girl American accent quite well. The show is further enhanced by having Summer Glau (River, from Firefly/Serenity) as a terminator robot programmed by the resistance to protect Sarah and John Connor. So you’ve got two incredibly badass women, one who is just straight-up tough and one with a dancer’s grace and martial arts moves to die for. Yeah…. it better get renewed.
I didn’t like River. Sue me. :)
Have you ever seen a short-run British TV vampire series called Ultraviolet? That’s a big pet fave of mine–a British friend told me about it since it lasted about two blinks.
And get well soon. Your Lego is calling you. :)
D minor without a Bflat is D dorian (or the Dorian of C in classical parlance*)…you’re discovering modes
Classical types refer to the “mode of” based on the key signature of the matching major scale (C in this case, i.e. no sharps or flats)
Folkies prefer to refer to the root tone (D) and the scale type (which is all a mode is), so they know how to fudge the chords without having to do circle of fifths conversions.
Oh! Thank you! there’s an *answer*! How unexpected! I think I’ve said here that taking two terms of ‘harmony’ in college ruined my grade point average and convinced me I couldn’t ‘do’ music, so Ossin is dead right twice over in letting me bumble on–both because he believes in letting people find their own way and also because I’ve already decided I can’t learn–but it’s nice to know sometimes, now that I’m DOING it, that there are, you know . . . answers. :) Was any of that intelligible?? I was going to ask Ossin this Friday to explain to me why I seem to be in D minor without the flat.
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I ask alongside Judith, when did Oisin become Ossin?
I’m just losing my mind. Relax.