December 21, 2012

It’s the 21st and the curse of the Maya has not yet wiped us out. Of course, it is quite early.

Woke with the most vivid dreams of my dream house. The preciseness of it is what is amazing– the details of cupboard and banister, the colors of the rooms. the mowers sitting in the shed, the kinds of trees in the backyard. It was a “dreamhouse” by no standard measure, old and shambling and eccentric, but I loved every inch of it with an uplifting love. Just before waking, I was running over in my head the kind of loan I might ask for at the bank, chastising myself–even in the dream–for always assuming people are going to say “no.”

Cantaria Christmas Concert was spectacular. We exceeded a full house, and standers lined the back and dim sitters the side rooms Everyone who spoke to me after said it was our best concert ever, and I have no reason to doubt it. After fourteen or so years the organization has taken off; we continue to grow and seem to be able to do no wrong. Three second basses were gone because of travel or illness, leaving me quite alone, and I oversang. My throat is harsh this morning. One more contra C would have been the death of me. Mrs P came up afterward and, after she praised the concert, attacked me a little inexplicably for being so old and having endured in the choir so long. If her point was that she wishes that we were younger and handsomer, I am with her. Our two young bucks– both especially nice-looking–wouldn’t have to tie their own shoes if they didn’t have a mind to. My own shoes annihilated me. I’d actually trudged to TOPS for new ones, bought them, but wouldn’t wear them because it was raining and I didn’t want them to be ruined. Ruin the back instead. The guy at TOPS was wondrous helpful. He brought out five or six boxes, and I think I disappointed him by buying the first pair.

Painted well yesterday, finishing a very strange piece on a round ground. Need to tie the big window shut every time, against the icy wind. What the installer could have been thinking is itself past thought, wanting to secure a big corner window with a length of rope.

Many projects, floating. I’m supposed to pluck one out of the wind when it drifts close enough.