an evening spent in song

Music is an unavoidable aspect of our home, whether you want to hear it our not. Strains of classical from the kitchen, the squawk of new violinists, the attempt at quiet strumming drifting downstairs, a whistle, a plunked out chord...

constant babble around the dinner table, shrieks of laughter from outside, running footsteps, the creak of doors and hardwood floors...


All nature sings, and 'round me rings the music of the spheres.

the simple things

Closing a window is easy. What I don't understand is how my finger got caught. ["It got caught ... in Frederick's teeth."]

It hinders the work, the guitar, and the piano. It's a tough life, I tell you. Tough and rough.


Rant for Brittany: guys are stupid. That has been the catch-phrase for the past week, and looks as though it will be for this one too. Don't get me started on the hows and whys. I don't think it would be appreciated if this were to be a daily occurrence, so I'll keep it to this.

[Note: new sneakers, my beautiful edition of Treasure Island, and the battered copy of Jane Eyre]