The birthday "harpy" hour was wonderful!

Truly, it was. After a flurry of texting my Mom and my fashion guru Ann Rosenquist Fee photos of options, I finally decided what to wear a mere 3 minutes before I had to leave the house with the harp.

Black skirt, sheer split-shoulder top...

...and these shoes. Spectator stilettos given to me by my

wonderful friend-neighbor Nicole Helget.

As I quickly found out, the shoes are meant for sitting and not for walking. There's a term for shoes like this. I learned it from a woman who owns a shoe boutique in Dingle, Ireland: "car-to-bar" shoes. As in, your date drives the car right up to the entrance to the bar, you hobble in and perch on the nearest barstool with your legs crossed so your fabulous shoes are on view, you drink and eat, you make merry, and then you hobble out to the car that your date has pulled up the curb when the night's over. "Car-to-bar." Beautiful.

The very tall heels of these beauties did make it easier for my little feet to reach the harp's pedals, though...

 It was a great evening. The bar was packed. 

Lots of friends showed up, and some cousins, too. 

And bunches of people I don't know.

All of whom sang "Happy Birthday" to me in quite spectacular fashion.

 I was mobbed by fans.

(OK, not really. This groups was just leaving all at once...)

Santa even stopped by to hear me play. With his fianceé, Carol.

(Don't tell Mrs. Claus.)

 I played all my favorite carols and songs.

Loudly. My fingers were very sore. I kept playing...

...with periodic breaks to sip prosecco.

Mmmm, prosecco.

Note to harpists: This is NOT the proper way to sit

when you're playing the harp.

(But after two glasses of prosecco, you won't care...)

 And then there was cake. 

Red velvet chocolate cake made by my Mom.

She makes it for me every single birthday.

I looooooove the red velvet chocolate cake.

(Especially with the champagne...)

And this was the scene on my porch the next morning:

Cake carnage and stilettos dropped at the entrance

and totally forgotten for the night.

 

Birthday "Harpy" Hour

Wednesday is my birthday. And I couldn't imagine sitting home drinking little bottles of (very cheap, very crappy but they do the trick) champagne in a fog of holiday performing exhaustion. In my sweats. And reading glasses. Knitting. Covered in cats.

Yeah. So I concocted a gig. A swanky, classy gig. One at which only the sexiest high heels will be worn. And I needed a new photo for the poster.

Enter my friend, neighbor, famous author and awesome photographer Nicole Helget. She came over with her camera on a Friday afternoon and made me smile, laugh, snuggle the harp, look sultry and act alternately professional, sexy and totally inappropriate.

Here's the final result.

Join me if you're in town. Come to town if you're out of town.

Shoes will be checked at the door to see if they meet sassy standards.

And yes, there were outtakes. Some are unfit for public viewing. But others - OK, I'll share them. I always get the giggles during photo shoots.

Especially when little bottles of (very cheap, very crappy but they do the trick) champagne 

are cracked open at 3:00 in the afternoon.

Is it hot in here, or is it just my shoes?

Yep, it's my shoes.

If anybody else put their foot on my harp like this, I'd break their leg.

I'm dreaming of a non-icy Christmas so it's easier to load the harp in cute shoes...

la la la laaaa...

I'm so funny. I crack myself up.

Jingle Belle loves cute shoes. (I should have used a lint roller on those pants, I realize now...)

I love my harp. I love champagne.

I'm serious, people. Come to Number 4 Wednesday night to celebrate with me.

Star sponsor

Hi, all.

I'm the "sponsor" of style guru Ann Rosenquist Fee's Fashion Tarot post today.

Visit her here: http://annrosenquistfee.wordpress.com/2012/12/18/anns-fashion-tarot-the-star/http://annrosenquistfee.wordpress.com/2012/12/18/anns-fashion-tarot-the-star/

And then leave me a comment and your email address and I'll send you a free gift - an unreleased mp3 of one of my original songs.

Yours in fashion divination,
Amy

And then, an acceptance letter...

How quickly the tides turned!

I'm so thrilled that the Briar Cliff Review has accepted my essay for publication. I'd submitted it to a nonfiction contest, which it didn't win, but it was a finalist. Most importantly, they want to publish it. I'm going to be published!

When I got the news, Mom and I were Christmas shopping in the cities. I stood in a flower shop we love, reading my email on my phone. "The Briar Cliff Review wants to publish my essay," I told Mom. "That's good news, but I need you to look at this ribbon right now - will it go in my bedroom?"

Yep. Mom keeping me humble.

The essay is about my brother and me and our vastly different relationships to the same element: wood. I finished it on his 40th birthday. I let Jeff read the essay before I submitted it. He disappeared for a good hour and then shouted up from the basement, "Good work, Amy." It's hard and a little scary to share these kinds of insights and emotions with someone. I'm glad he liked it. When I called to tell him the essay was accepted, he told the guys at work on the construction site to quit hammering and shut off the saws so he could hear all the details. THAT's brotherly excitement.

The issue with my essay will publish in May 2013. My next big task (after the holiday playing rush is over) will be to head back to this laptop and finish some other essay-poetry-memoir ideas I started back in late October. One of them will be a flash nonfiction piece. I've never written flash anything, but I think it will be a good challenge.

My immediate task will be to toast the Muse of Acceptance Letters with a little bottle of (very cheap, very crappy, but it does the trick) champagne.

If you have to get a rejection letter...

...I hope it's as nice as this one.

I've been sending out some of my writing to contests and publications recently. I've had fingers crossed and been checking the mailbox and my email during breaks from performing, waiting for news.

I'm new at this submission thing. I haven't submitted anything for publication seriously since college. Then I got a harp and then, well, you know...

So putting my personal writing out into the world has been a little scary. It's exciting, though. It's a new road for me to travel, a different focus than my solid harp career, something I'm "emerging" with rather than continuing with as always. I like the feeling. I like the uncertainty. It's good to emerge with new art periodically in our lives, I think. It keeps us fresh (and humble).

And I love the feedback - "we very much enjoyed reading your essay" and "your piece flowed smoothly and inspired lively debates among our staff."

Onward. More mailbox and email checking in the next few months. Fingers crossed when I'm not playing holiday music. Wish me well!

10th Anniversary Concert - it was beautiful

Driving the Cold Winter Away, for the 10th year in a row.

(photo: Mark Braun)

It was beautiful. Perfect, really. I couldn't have wished for or planned for or dreamed of a better anniversary concert.

Despite the fact that the temperature had dropped 40+ degrees in less than 24 hours. Despite the fact that the Tuesday before the concert I was diagnosed with "bronchitis that would have been pneumonia if you'd waited a day". Despite the fact that, as a result of the diagnosis and the loss of 4 pre-concert productive days, I had to cut two songs from the set list and forgot to arrange for an official photographer and nearly forgot to arrange for a videographer (videos coming soon) and forgot to arrange for ticket takers and CD sellers. Despite the fact that the dress I wanted to wear hadn't arrived by the Wednesday before the concert and I had not even a clue about shoes yet...

Yes, inspite of allll this, I'm so happy with how everything turned out.  The weather was frightfully blustery outside, but inside, the church was warm and cozy. The antibiotics worked in record time (so did all the over-the-counter remedies recommended by my wonderful pharmacist and the hot whiskey prescribed by my mother). No one noticed the two missing songs - in fact, the concert probably would have been too long with them. My friend Tim saved the day with the video, my Mom and Dad and friends stepped in to sell tickets and CDs (Dad would like you to know he sold FOUR CDs, all by himself), some audience members snapped iPhone photos and shared them with me.

The Second Half Dress. I hear it looked like a disco ball when I moved.

Awesome.

(photo: Freddy Madrigal) 

And my dress - it arrived and Mom altered it in record time. It was the first time a dress I wore at a concert got applause of its own. In the first half of the concert, I wore the legendary red ruffled dress that's featured on the cover of my All Hayle to the Days album to represent where I've been, all that I'd dreamed of, who I was when I started. And then after intermission, I changed into a short, silver-sequined, ultra-shiny number (with matching silver shoes, yes indeed) to say: "This is who I am now, and I'm loving being me!" People gasped when I walked out - applauded like they normally do, but then sparked up the applause just for the dress.

I haven't even talked about the music yet because, miraculously, every single song went off perfectly, without a hitch, without a vocal waver or a missed note or a missed cue or a slipped pedal (silver shoes = yay!). I have no idea how I did it, how my voice rang out so strong and clear, how my band followed me in my half-sick state, but we did it. And it was magical to be there performing and experiencing it all myself, to follow that path from the very beginnings, to perform the songs that meant "holiday concert" to me, many of which ended up on my All Hayle to the Days album. To move into my new compositions, to tell of my travels to Ireland, and Paris, then Ireland, Paris and Ireland and how they inspired the new me, the new music and art I make.

My good friends Ann and Sara, out of hiatus as Prima Vox.

On my "Fire & Ice" - oh, Paris memories.

Oh, those girls and our voices...

 

I'm a very happy harpist, a very grateful girl, grateful to everyone who performed with me, helped me, hauled harps and CDs and candelabra and music stands and harp benches and music bags and candles for me, made things happen behind the scenes, set up sound for me (Ann Rosenquist Fee, that would be you)...thank you.

Happy, happy, warm start to the winter season!

Holiday Concert Retrospective

As I've been preparing for the holiday concert on Saturday night, I've been going through the photo, video and recording archives from holiday concerts past. A 10th anniversary is a big deal, I've come to realize even more. That a fairly small community has embraced a strange and unique instrument like a harp, and a musician who's absolutely determined to do things herself, and her own way - it's a wonderful thing. I'm overwhelmed by the support and what it has meant to my artistic life.

Here are some of the images I found:

Holiday concert 2006. 

St. Peter and Paul's Catholic Church, Mankato.

I'd gone to Ireland for the first time that May, so the concert had me delving into 

Irish and Celtic Christmas carols and holiday music. Megan danced up there on that platform

 to "Christmas Day I'da Morning" and to the "Mistletoe Waltz" by Kathleen Loughnane.

I met Kathleen on my grant trip to Ireland in 2010, and she was thrilled that I'd been playing her song.

(Though that white jacket I wore made me kinda look like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man...)

Holiday Concert 2008.

First Presbyterian Church, Mankato.

After holding concerts in the big and gorgeous Good Counsel Chapel and large spaces 

like St. Peter and Paul's church, I was looking for a more intimate environment.

I found it in First Presbyterian Church. The wooden interior, the rounded sanctuary, the domed ceiling

- they all brought the audience and the sound closer to me. 

That year, we performed Christmas lullabies - including one I composed, 

which you'll hear on Saturday night.

Holiday Concert 2009.

I'd just come back from Paris. I was reeling from all the art and inspiration and beauty and richness of the experience. I'd composed "Fire & Ice" while I was in Paris for harp and women's voices 

- my voice, Sara Buechmann's voice and Ann Fee's voice, to be specific.

This concert was the world premiere of that piece.

Since then, it's been performed by other choirs, which thrills me beyond thrilled.

Holiday Concert 2011.

It was a performance of the music from my very first recording, The Light and the Lady.

I wrote all about that experience here...

Revisiting that music was a beautiful experience, and the concert was as well.

Now, on to this year. My 10th anniversary concert. My band is ready, the special musical guests are prepped, the prizes are waiting for their recipients. The harps are sitting in the corner of the living room right now, under the lit evergreen garland, soaking in the quiet and the the unusual warmth of this day, sure to ring out in their beautiful way on Saturday night.

I hope to see you all there!

Now to figure out what I'm going to wear, once and for all...

My TV debut - behind the scenes

My friend Kelly works at KEYC-TV in Mankato (yes, again, it's not what you know...). She called me last Wednesday and said she had good news. My news release sparked the interest of the midday anchor AND the Regional Spotlight anchor. Would I have time Friday to come in and promote my 10th Annual Holiday Concert live during the midday news and then pre-tape for the Regional Spotlight segment to run on Monday, November 19?

"Um, yes. Yes, I would," I told her calmly. Then I jumped up and down for a while in the living room. I woke up a sleeping Jingle Belle. She growled at me all squinty-eyed. Whatever, kitty. I'm sure she's just jealous.

I took the afternoon off work Friday, changed into something black and TV-worthy and hauled the Celtic harp to the studio. Setup began immediately.

That's Gordy, the wonderful cameraman adjusting the microphone.

A very, very, very big microphone...

Goodness.

Ahem. Anyway, there were sound checks, more sound checks, lighting adjustments, lapel microphone wrangling, positioning and then...

Breaking news. 

The president was taking over MY news slot to talk about the economic cliff. Seriously, you vote for a guy and this is how he thanks you? 

 We waited. And waited. 

 Kelly and I took self-portraits.

Marveled at the camera equipment.

And then the news was over. So we taped a segment to air Monday, November 12.

Me with the beautiful Lisa Cownie, midday anchor.

We did two takes because I said something really stupid and giggled, and then she stumbled over the name of my concert: "Harpist Amy Kortuem's 10th Annual To Drive the Cold Winter Away Holiday Concert." Yeah. Not that it's really long and confusing or anything...

And here is the result:

http://www.keyc.tv/story/20074208/harpist-amy-kortuem-to-host-holiday-concerthttp://www.keyc.tv/story/20074208/harpist-amy-kortuem-to-host-holiday-concert

Then after a quick change in setup (and a quick wardrobe change because we had to make it look like I'd come in on two separate days, though I'm kind of spilling that secret right now, aren't I...)

Jan Ellanson and I taped an edition of Regional Spotlight.

Closely monitored.

And playing out the show with "Deck the Halls."

You can see the results of this taping here (pre-show...just for you):

http://www.keyc.tv/category/201273/video?clipId=7941308&autostart=true

What a great experience, and I'm so grateful for the support and the exposure KEYC-TV gave me. I'm hoping it will bring the news of my concert to many, many people! Thanks, Kelly, Lisa Cownie, Jan Ellanson, Gordy the Cameraman and crew, and everyone at KEYC!

Amy Kortuem's Celtic Band: history

 The view from behind my harp.

This scene makes me so very happy.

Harps tuned, chairs ready for the band, candles lit.

Waiting...waaaiiiiiiting...

The band and I have been rehearsing and rehearsing for the holiday concert coming up on November 24th. I love it when they come over. Somehow, the house knows it will soon be filled with music - it always feels warmer, the lights are brighter, the air is charged right before they arrive.

And then they show up with their instruments, all smiles.

Here, Martha (center) is showing us her binary counting skills...

Martha has been my partner in musical crime the longest, since 2003, when she played on my "The Harp Her Soul Required album". I remember being a little concerned about whether she, as a classically trained orchestral musician (her instrument is oboe), would feel comfortable playing Irish music. But when I put the music in front of her, all worries roared out the door. The woman can sight read like no one I've ever met and she added such finesse and feeling to the airs, jigs and songs. And she was all in for the adventure of performing for the first holiday concert later that year. Over the years, we've played in costume, in dusty old barns, at elementary schools, in high winds and heat, and she has been a joyful and generous presence at my side through it all.

Sam The Drummer (right) - called such because I have a cat named Sam, and it can lead to awkward moments if I mention in public that "Sam was crying outside my bedroom door all night" without distinguishing between Sam The Drummer and Sam The Cat - is the quiet, steady undercurrent of the entire band. He's been with me since that first holiday concert in 2003. A friend of a friend of a friend gave me his name, and when I called him I barely got out "I'm giving this concert and am wondering if you'd like to play percussion..." when he broke in with "I'll do it." And he has, ever since, keeping me on track and on the beat. He doesn't say much, but when he does, I listen and always follow his wise advice. And it's good he doesn't say much, because there are some pretty wild Behind the Scenes with Harpist Amy Kortuem stories he could tell...

And Marti (left). Sweet, gentle, deep thinking and positive Marti. She joined the band in 2006 for a St. Patrick's Day concert and has stuck with me since. She just recently shared how difficult it was for her to follow my rather "intuitive" (ahem) arrangements of music at first - the arrows, the stars, the who's playing which repeat, the A sections, the B sections, sometimes even the C sections, the difference between my interpretation of a descant and a harmony and a drone. But she got it, and she got it beautifully. Marti has brought her love for Irish music to the band and has shared her favorite pieces, all of which have become band favorites (have you heard her play "The Irish Washerwoman"? yeah, like that). 

I lucked out finding these incredible musicians. I lucked out even more that they've become good friends. We've grown together, experienced loss together, supported each other and celebrated milestones - like Sam The Drummer's wedding to the beautiful Jess, like the arrival of grandchildren for Martha and Marti, like my grants and travels.

I can't wait for you to hear what we've been practicing up. Please, please join us on November 24th!

To Drive the Cold Winter Away - a 10 year celebration

I really, really hope you can join me!

10 years ago, I had this crazy idea. 

It was August 2003. I'd just given a CD release concert for my album "The Harp Her Soul Required." I'd never given a concert before. 800 people came. And many of them said, "Do this again at Christmas - please!"

 So I did. 

 November 2003. Standing ovation.

I gathered up my favorite holiday music, researched some new pieces, arranged them all in Amy ways, invited my good friend Martha Lindberg and my new friend Sam Lawrence to perform with me, and set the date: the Saturday after Thanksgiving to create a warm welcome to the season. To avoid the Christmas music deluge that begins December 1. To set a feeling of calm, beauty and thoughtfulness in peoples' minds early, in hopes that it would linger and sustain them throughout the rest of the holidays.

I called it "To Drive the Cold Winter Away" after a traditional old song of that title. The lyrics are wonderful and hilarious and they talk about creating warmth for and with each other, being neighborly, being forgiving, making merry. That song became the centerpiece for each concert. 

And the theme inspired me to create warmth in other ways. Every year I've held free will offerings and given a portion of the proceeds to VINE Faith in Action. It's an organization close to my heart. Pam Determan, the organization's founder, was my religion teacher in junior high. And VINE helps people like my beloved neighbor Ethel remain independent in their homes. 

Now, 10 years later, I'm looking back on all those concerts. All that music, all that art, all that warmth. An addition to the band: Marti Ryan. Such good memories. And from the comments and emails and letters and calls I receive from people who have attended, I know that using my talents in this way is making a real difference to people.

And this is the year I'm celebrating it all. With favorite music from each year, special guests performing with me, accompaniment from my fearless (and patient and good-humored and adventurous) band, my original music. And some brand new music I'm putting the finishing touches on. A world premiere, for my 10th year.

There will be drawings for prizes, too. It'll be fun! Check out all the details on my website (click here.)

Stay tuned for more updates, more memories. And please mark your calendars. I so hope you can celebrate with me.

And I want to hear YOUR memories, too! Leave them in a comment to this post along with your email address, and I'll send you a never-before released MP3 of a song I've recorded. And I might even share your memory during the concert...

I'm back.

Back from my blogging break. And I needed one, as my last post indicated. Thank you all for your lovely, supportive comments and offers of help and even for sending flowers. The day I outlined in the post wasn’t even unusual – there were several like it and many that weren’t quite that busy, but pretty close.

I ended up a very tired kitten.

I should probably knock on wood, but I daresay that things have calmed down in the busy-ness realm and also in the way I’m approaching the busy-ness. That’s all we really can do, isn’t it? Change our approach and our perception?

So I’ve decided to take a sabbatical. A sabbatical from constant worry. A sabbatical from feeling like I have to constantly produce new writing, new music, new ideas, new art to be worthy. A sabbatical from always-full to-do lists. I’ve decided to really prioritize what NEEDS-needs to be done right now vs. everything that just needs to be done. There’s a big difference, I realized. Try it sometime and see what happens in the space of a day.

It’s working already. Now, when Ethel’s microwave goes on the fritz and she’s very upset and worried, going out to get her a new one at 9:00 p.m. doesn’t put me over the edge because I haven’t filled up my day with a thousand things not on the priority list.

Now, when I feel all guilty for not posting to my blog, I know that I'm not abandoning all you wonderful ones in my social network because I'm still reading your posts and putting in my comments and encouragement. But producing a post three times a week is not on the priority list.

Now, when I look out my kitchen window and see the dried up, overgrown garden, I don’t desperately try to find two days to get it cleaned off before winter because it’s not going anywhere and it can wait until spring and it’s just not on the priority list.

And now, when I’m deep in the dreaming and rehearsing and promoting for my 10th Annual Holiday Concert (November 24…stay tuned for details), I’m not worrying about not writing and constantly producing in that area of my life for a while because it’s not on the priority list.

On the priority list:
...family
...Ethel (who’s like family, really)
...good friends
...rest

...and preparing in all ways for my 10th Annual Holiday Concert. 

I really hope you’ll mark your calendars and join me!

And should another day come like the one in the previous post (as it very well could because this is life, after all), I’m planning to be better able to breeze through, protecting my neighborhood and helping my friends without ending up an exhausted, crying, beer-drinking girl on the couch covered in cats. ’Cuz that’s a sight neither you nor I really ever want to see again, I’m sure.

Thanks for sticking with me. And please let me know what’s on your priority list these days. Let’s support each other!

THEN...

My official job: cat warmer.

Their official job: Amy calmer.

I know it's been more than a week since I said I would update my blog. But do you ever get so overwhelmed by the beauty, pain and wonder of life that you just can't possibly distill it all into a couple of blog posts? Even if you have an English degree with a concentration in writing and have been a professional writer for 20 years? And even if you haven't?

Like - how do you do this, for example, then distill it, take photos of it, and then blog about it…

One night last week, all I wanted to do was take a long walk, take a long bath and then relax afterward with my blog. I'd written copy at work for 7 and a half hours straight. I felt cross-eyed and drained.

BUT - when I got home I noticed that Ethel's back patio was covered in leaves and she hates it when it's covered in leaves and she thinks she should rake it herself (you're 93 and use a walker - yeah, Ethel, why don't you just go out and rake…). So I raked.

THEN I talked Ethel into letting me take her garbage and recycling to the curb.

THEN Ethel told me to fill her birdbath. And take down the tomato cage. And water the hydrangea. And get rid of her scruffy geranium plant. So I did. (I love Ethel.)

THEN I started on my walk. A block and a half down, I saw my friend come tearing out of her house yelling for her 2-year-old son. She looked panicked. I ran over and helped her look for him. We found him right away. He was hiding behind the neighbor's garage, playing. Whew.

THEN a few blocks later a nice little cat ran toward me and wanted to be petted. So I did. THEN it started to follow me home. I talked with a variety of neighbors about who it belonged to. Finally found its owner. It's well taken care of, just likes to roam and is very friendly. And sooo cute…(I will not take another cat home. I will not take another cat home. I will not…)

THEN on my way home from the walk, another neighbor called and sounded frantic and asked me to help get her two kittens out of the basement ceiling - they got up there but couldn't get down. So I did.

The night was so apparently not about me and my walk and my bath. That's ok. Amy Kortuem, Neighborhood Caretaker to the rescue. It's a good job to have.

THEN I finally got home. I was running the bath water when I remembered a friend's book release party that night. I had only 30 minutes to get there, so I raced through my bath and went to the book party. My friend was was out of books by theme I got there, that's how well it went. I'm so happy for him.

THEN my good friend from high school texted me that she was stopping chemo and getting ready to move to hospice. Would I play "How Great Thou Art" at her funeral? Of course I will. (Oh, my heart.) And would I meet her next week at the local bar to talk about funeral music? Of course I will. (If you knew my friend, you'd know how perfectly "her" this is.)

THEN I came home and sat on my front step and stared out into the night. A friend came over while I was sitting there staring. I told her about everything, this whole list, as I stared.

"Wow, what a weekend," she said.
"No, it all happened tonight, since 5:00 p.m.," I said.
She didn't say anything more. Only looked at me. Then she offered me a beer she had in her purse. Seriously, if you have a day like that, you need people to offer you beer from their purses.

So my friends, I haven't been blogging. Because I've had many days like this in the past couple of weeks. And in between I've played for weddings and 25th anniversary events and arts magazine launches and met with my friend about her funeral music and…I'll tell you all about them. Sometime. Soon. I promise.

But right now, it seems that it's more important to take care of my neighborhood, my family, my Ethel, myself. I need a little couch time with cats when I take off my Amy Kortuem Neighborhood Caretaker cape. I just might need another week. Or so. Please don't give up on me! Promise?

There’s always one thing

One thing that I just can’t get to in the course of a week, that is.

Does that ever happen to you? Like...

~ The house might be clean, but you just can’t make yourself empty the dishwasher.
~ The dishes might all be clean and put away, but you cannot, physically cannot, manage to fold the laundry.
~ The laundry might be all fresh-smelling and perfectly folded (fitted sheets in a perfect square? Mine are, thanks to being the daughter of Karen Kortuem, the Home Ec major), but vacuuming up the Harry hair (OK, this might not apply to you) floating around the floors would put you over the edge.

(Cats. Waiting for me to vacuum...)

And how do you handle it all? Or don’t you and then you just forgive yourself?

Please, please tell me!

Obviously, the thing this week for me was blogging. (Actually, there have been some towels languishing in the dryer, waiting to be folded, too, but anyway…)

And the saddest thing is that there’s really so much I want to talk about, to tell you, to share.

Like...

~ A wedding that took place 10 minutes into the official start of autumn.
~ A funeral and wedding in one day that both had big confusion about the same song (weird!).
~ A big epiphany I had about my outlook on life (I’ll tell you and you’ll probably say “duh!” but still…)
~ The latest in the “Do you play Canon in D?” saga
~ Cat pictures. Because they’re cold lately and don’t have full winter coats and are oh-so-snuggly and cute.

So. I haven’t disappeared. And now that the big freelance project I’ve been working on is (almost) done, the two-harp-playing-event weekends have turned to one-harp-playing-event weekends, I’ve vacuumed and I’ve actually unloaded the dishwasher, it’s time to blog again.

Please, stop in next week. I promise we'll get caught up then!

Not how I wanted to spend $50

Nope. Not on these.

I've been playing the harp so much lately and have been putting in longer hours at work. Last weekend when I was playing at a wedding, I started thinking that I deserved a treat. Nothing extravagant. But something nice. Something pretty. Maybe a new ring I've been coveting from the Arhaus Jewels catalog, all silver and big freshwater pearl. Maybe clicking "order" on my amazon.com shopping cart. Or maybe a little visit to the Chanel counter at Macy's for a new lip gloss shade for fall.

Then the harp cart got a flat tire.

Those tires have a big job to do. 

The harp weighs 100 pounds. The cart itself is nearly 75 pounds.

Wobbly, squishy tires just won't do.

So I stopped at C&S Supply after the wedding and told the first guy I could find that I needed tires. What size? he asked. Ummm...I said. So I took him out to the truck and showed him the cart. Wow, he said. Then he wrote some stuff down and led me into the very back of the store to the tires. 

$50 gone, just like that. So long, San Remo ring. See you later, amazon.com cart. Forget about it, Chanel.

My nice Dad...

I called him when I got home and told him I had a flat tire, would he help me fix it? Where are you, I'll come get you, he said, Dad-style. On my porch, I said. Where? Dad asked. The cart and the new tires are on the porch, I said. Oh, Dad said. You didn't tell me it was the harp cart with a flat tire.

Oops.

He changed the tires in 15 minutes. I rolled the cart around and it was perfectly balanced, absolutely steady. Tried to squeal out around a corner to show off the nice tread. He rolled his eyes, Dad-style. His visits are always a treat.