It's That Kind of Day

We are both recuperating from last weekend's concert, the events of the week leading up to the concert, and the weeks and weeks of preparation that lead up to last week's events and concert. We are both tired, we are both a little worn and edgy, we are both painfully aware of how many tasks and chores went by the wayside during April (and even March) as the concert (and United Way and the grant writing) ate up our time.

The concert - which was the season finale as well as the Ford Made in America concert - was absolutely stunning. Stunning? Amazing! Incredible! I had tears in my eyes watching Warren play Chasing Light…, the signature piece. At several points in the work, his hands were moving so fast over the vibraphone that the mallets in them were blurs. All of the musicians, along with Jaime, our conductor, played their hearts out, not just on the Big piece, but on every piece. At the end of the night, the audience rose in waves to acknowledge the beauty and power of what we had just heard. I raised a bruise on my right palm from clapping so hard.

[Note: the performance is archived and available online. It's the May 1 event. That's Warren speaking at the start of the concert. He is in the percussion section on the right side of the shot during the first half.]

The concert and the composer residency held in conjunction with it were probably the biggest event of the Symphony's 31 years, probably the greatest accomplishment of Warren's in almost 20 years of managing the Symphony, and probably the largest, sustained community-building event by an arts organization ever in Delaware.

Small wonder we are exhausted. Small wonder that by Sunday night I felt my throat start to go scratchy, that by yesterday I was snuffling and coughing, and that today I feel as if my head is full of wadded up plastic grocery bags. I want to put my head down on my desk, like we used to do in grade school, and close my eyes.

It's that kind of day. Kind of a "I wish I felt better" day.

After taking Sam to work this morning, I came back home, did something or other - I don't even remember what now - before walking slowly to a meeting downtown, following by dropping in at United Way offices to sign allocation letters.

It's that kind of day. Kind of a slow-moving, slow-thinking day.

It's Primary Day in Ohio and Warren picked me up after my United Way stint to go vote. He is an R and I am a D. In this county, that means he gets a full ballot, because there are Republicans running for office every time you turn around and almost every race this primary was contested. The Democrat ballot is anorexic by comparison. So I was through voting long before Warren was. I stood out in the hallway at the polling place and greeted friends going in to vote.

It's that kind of day. Kind of a community-gathering, friend-greeting day.

Afterwards we swung by my parents' house so I could pick up an empty planter and replant it for Mother's Day. I saw that my dad already has his garden tilled and some of it planted. I was so jealous! The garden is one of the tasks that went by the wayside last month, other than I have a worktable full of plants begging to be let outside. (And while writing this, I shot an email to the friend around the corner who has the "dirt-eating machine" I used last year in my sod garden, asking to get on the list to borrow it.) I plan on spending much of this weekend making up for lost time.

It's that kind of day. Kind of a look at the garden and look at the plants and think about introducing them to each other day.

My older son Ben just got back to Montana from Portland, Oregon, where last Thursday he and my almost daughter-in-law Alise went through a commitment ceremony at Reed College. When I saw his note on Facebook that he was back, I asked "pictures," and he sent me a link. I have not seen Ben and Alise for two years. I got teary right away, but then realized I have not seen Ben with hair that short in more than a decade, so that distracted me from crying. Seeing these made me realize that in all the concert preparations of recent weeks, we haven't even discussed the upcoming wedding this summer in Montana.

These are three of my favorites. The photography is by Molly Gingras (a Reedie). I suspect the stuff being thrown is glitter.


It's that kind of day. Kind of a look-see at their first big event and looking forward to seeing them at their second later this summer day.

Tomorrow are the 4th Grade concerts, here and in Marion, and Warren and others will be arriving shortly to load the timpani. There are dishes calling, there is a meeting tomorrow for which I need to prepare. Tonight Warren has a rehearsal, so supper will be bumped up against that and anything else going on. Life goes on. The cold I have will pass, there's always another concert in the wings, and the garden will get tilled and planted.

It's that kind of day. Kind of a small moments day.

My kind of day.