Brrrrr!

OK now, so enough’s enough, don’t you think? Very pretty and all that (actually, my garden’s gone beyond pretty, being just one huge mound of undisturbed snow with a twig or two poking out to remind me what is supposed to be out there) but now I’d like it to stop, thank you.

We were slightly down on numbers last night, as you may imagine, but all the altos made it – including Natalie1, returned from her lengthy travels – so we were in the majority for once and the sopranos looked very feeble. (Notice I don’t say ‘sounded’ - too libellous for words!) Anne managed to struggle in from Balerno although, as far as I can make out, she had to leave at dawn in order to arrive on time and was planning to bunker down with the Wexlers for the night rather than attempting to return home. That’s dedication beyond the call of duty for you but we can always rely on Anne for that as well as for being the best tuning-fork around. (Add to this the fact that she is willing to make litres of mulled apple juice for the warming of the multitudes at our Rosslyn concert and you will see that she is thoroughly indispensable).

John had the liquor cabinet open in an extremely generous and welcoming manner and was doling out snifters of whisky and sloe gin. I got a glass of the gin but unfortunately had to ask for it as he managed to miss me out whilst playing host/barman in a jolly ‘man the barricades’ blitz-y – but obviously rather haphazard - sort of fashion. Never one to hold back where alcohol is concerned I demanded attention (I did say ‘please’, honest) and am very glad I did as the sloe gin was delicious and just what was required post slippy-slidey walk in the very, very cold.

This general consuming of warming beverages led to the first amusing incident of the evening; one, I think, most people missed which is a shame because it illustrated beautifully the friendly spirit of the choir and the generosity of one member in particular: our Jen arrived a little late and, collecting a wee dram (if you can have a wee dram of sloe gin) on her way through the room, came to sit beside me. She was too late to hear me admitting that I’d picked up the wrong little black file on my way out of the house and so had none of the music I needed for the rehearsal but in time to hear me say, “Don’t worry, I’ll just share with Jenny, I’m sure she won’t mind.” What did the dear girl do but thrust her glass of the yummy stuff under my nose, quite happy for me to take a slug of her drink no questions asked or remonstrations made. I think I gave her a bit of an old-fashioned look; certainly I was a bit puzzled to begin with - but once I’d cottoned on (the length of time it took indicative of the fact that the same munificent gesture would never have occurred to me), I explained the situation and, naturally, we both dissolved into the first giggles of the evening. You may remember that last week I suggested we should endeavour to keep Mrs Fardell away from intoxicating liquids. Luckily she behaved much better this week and I may be able to rethink that recommendation. And how can anyone condemn such a friend to temperance?

Eventually – with much prompting from Anne who had it very much in mind that concerts are looming (she seemed to be the only one) – we were called to order by our lord and master and got down to work. This week we worked on Lullay and Ther is No Rose, Run, Toboggan, Run (oh dear), Deck the Hall, Nyathi Onyuol and Sleep. The girls had a little time later on to sing O Morganstern and Trees of the Field as well for the sake of those amongst us who have never sung them before and find them tricky. Funny how with half the people we get twice the work done...

Lullay is going to be lovely with gorgeous solos from Kay and Marie-Claire.
Ther is No Rose will no doubt be fine too though we were lacking our full compliment of double-trios and so just sang it all together.
Run, Toboggan, Run was a bit of a disaster until Ollie split us up and left the women to the tender mercies of Anne who is a task-master and a half and wouldn’t rest until the altos were singing in tune. I have to admit it sounds much better when we do. With a bit of tweaking and work on expression it ended up sounding a thousand times better. Let’s hope we don’t forget what got tweaked and why.
Deck the Hall is a laugh and a half. Remembering that there is only one hall proves to be a bit of a problem. Someone (a soprano) always puts an ‘s’ on and it is never the same person (soprano) twice. This one is guaranteed to make people smile. I think.
Nyathi Onyuol is getting there at last. I don’t know the words to this yet and really must make an effort to learn them as without the words the rhythm goes and thus befalls disaster.
Onto Sleep. And Eric Whitacre (yum). Susan had been busy handing out copies of this-and-that all evening (there’s always someone without something and usually several without lots). “Does anyone need Sleep?” she asked, all innocence, to cries of “Yes, I do” and “Can’t remember the last time I had any!" Much hilarity ensued (and Christopher gesturing at me to make sure I didn’t forget to remember to tell you). Once we’d settled we worked hard on this; so much so that I thought my voice (MY VOICE) might run off again. The sopranos got rather concerned on reaching the end that they were getting it wrong and so we concentrated on their problem for a while, poor Kay having to sing a very high section over and over again to make sure she’d got it right. It sounded fine – lovely, actually. It was only when I pointed out that Jenny and I had been singing entirely the wrong thing during these few bars (not looking at our music, as usual – complacent, or what?) that they realised they’d been right all along. Oops! And tee-hee. And sorry, Kay; hope there have been no ill-effects.

Once the singing was done some discussion took place as to whether or not the old people would need their carols on Sunday. The general opinion was not. They’d be mad to try and get out and about in this weather. Hips! Aaagh! Also someone - Chris or Kay? - asked if we had contingency plans in case Rosslyn had to be cancelled. We didn’t but now we do. A decision will be made on Thursday 9th and if we can’t go ahead as planned we will try to inform, directly, as many people as possible on Friday and a notice will be posted on the web-site as well. But it’ll be a bit of a, um, pain, won’t it? All go outside and breathe heavily and let’s see if we can melt the snow.

Now I have done my best to stay as up-beat as possible while writing this but I went out shopping today and bought a very nice shirt for my husband and then LOST IT. I went back to all the shops I’d been in and made enquiries but, nothing; so someone out there has got a very nice shirt for no money at all and I’m out of pocket when I had nothing in the pocket to start with. Grrrr. It’s time to go off and be grumpy for a couple of hours.

Christmas?

Humbug!