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September 22, 2002: Nose buried

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Seeing as how it is September, the new choir season has started for the 'year'. And as is usual in a volunteer-type organization, we gained a few new people, and lost a few others. Some of those others were my fellow tenors. One no longer comes to practice, and the other had really preferred to sing bass all along and defected to the lower range as soon as he got a chance. Not, mind you, that I blame him, seeing as how his voice was much better suited for the lower notes. The only other tenor - my dad - can't come to practice but at least there are two of us on Sundays and somehow it all works. Thursday nights at choir practice, however, I'm all by myself. Every other section has at least 5 people, but not the tenors. It's just me, singing out the notes for all I'm worth in a desperate attempt to at least get it to blend. As a side note, even though there's just one of me and 6 or 7 of them, I can still take on the entire bass section and overpower them. This is either a comment on the hesitant unsurety of men who sing bass, or else highly amusing. I'm erring on the safe side and choosing to be amused.


Somehow or other we managed to have a surprisingly lazy weekend. We rode our bikes on Saturday morning, up over the freeway and past the produce stand and then back across the freeway to stop at Starbucks for breakfast before continuing on down the back roads. We were originally going to do another 20 miles or so, past the amazing 6000 square foot 1880's house we saw the previous weekend during the house tour, but ended up cutting it a bit shorter. After we got home and showered and spent a few hours talking on the phone to various family members (during which I got to hear my little 2 year old niece sing me songs. Very cute), we wandered over to the library. I wheedled Richard into reserving a few books for me on his card, and then belated realized that it might make more sense for me to just get a card of my own. So now I have it, and can log into the Solano county library system and reserve books all by myself. Ah the miracles of modern technology, or something like that. I checked out a huge stack of books that mainly consists of every book by Terry Pratchett that they had, and every one of "The Cat Who.." books they had on the shelves. Luckily Richard understands the allure of a stack of unread books as well and didn't mind sitting at dinner last night with books in hand in between salmon tandoori and cups of chai.

Today has been mostly lazy as well. Aside from going to church we've done little that could be considered productive, unless you count meal preparation. Lunch was grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which are infinitely better than plain PB&J because of the way the peanut butter melts when it's heated. We ate pomegranates, hunched over our plates trying to avoid splattering the table, the floor, ourselves with purple juice. Then we curled up in our respective spots around the house and read and read. Even while we watched Blade Runner I still read, only glancing up from time to time to see if there was anything I might have missed.

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