#2 daughter is home for Easter, having finished her choir tour. Now, she had been on a whirlwind tour, doing one or two concerts a day for five days, and then driving through a couple of states to get home. Naturally, as soon as we grabbed some spinach and mushroom pizza and melon, we headed right off for — choir practice.
It was fun. Even for #2 daughter. I told her she had to approach the experience with an open mind, not thinking of it as a choir. This is just a sing-around-the-campfire that happens to sing Robert Shaw and Gregorian chants.
We drove up with a couple of raucous older ladies. They told us wild stories and sang us bawdy songs and expressed a hope that the director at the church we were going to would relax. He just isn’t as relaxed as our choir director, they complained, and that is certainly true. In fact, they are practically a choir. We arrived as they were polishing the Hallelujah chorus, and most of us sat in the pews and sang along. Their choir would not be troubled by that, because they had two violins and a tuba and a trumpet and an electronic organ (which later played accordion for us) and were also heavily miked. The whole experience was way too loud, but fun nonetheless.
And now I have a four-day weekend to enjoy with my family. Tonight and tomorrow night we are singing, Friday there is an international festival, Saturday there is a kite festival, Sunday we are singing at two different churches and celebrating Easter. My parents, who usually join us for Easter dinner, are in Seattle at a conference, so it will just be our little nuclear family, short the married daughter. I expect I’ll get some knitting in at some point.