One of the things that has always amazed me about musicians is their ability to play together with other musicians. To coordinate and synchronize their music with the music of the other players always seems sort of magical to me.

Now that I am learning to play cello, Sibylle and I are both looking forward to duets together. This afternoon we had a beautifully sweet taste of making music together. We played through an arrangement of her’s that combines Pachelbel’s Canon in D with Jolly Old Saint Nicholas. I played Jolly Old while she accompanied me on the piano. It may have been halting and slow, but it was also beautiful.

Making music with other musicians is magical. Playing a duet with your lover, companion, and wife is transcendent.

Thanks to Mark who got up early on Thanksgiving Day to pick up Jonathan after his night shift in Emporia, we had a beautiful family Thanksgiving Holiday yesterday.  Jonathan brought food, some still frozen, some already prepared, some still in bags to be prepared.  After a few hours of rest, he got up and we started preparing our delicious meal.  Well, “we” means Mark and Jonathan; my contribution to the meal was mostly taking pictures. 

Mark wrote up a beautiful menu:

A few hours of cooking and baking (and in between cleaning up), and setting table, and taking pictures, and practicing cello while stuff was baking – dinner was around 6.

Life is good.

Mark and I treasure our weekends:  I do a bit of teaching on Saturdays, but for the most part Saturdays and then definitely Sundays belong to just us, to do – perhaps not nothing, but very intentionally nothing too structured. 

Last Saturday, however, the State Honors Auditions took place in Lawrence, and while none of my students had participated in the Fall Auditions this year I still wanted to go and listen to as many students in as many different age groups as possible.  I learn so much from listening and watching.  This year, again, as usual, I saw a few, very few, outstanding performances, and other than that a whole lot of wonderful intentions that due to a lack of technique never were realized.  

In order to be there for the little ones who play first thing in the morning (the drive takes about 1 hour and 20 minutes), Mark and I had planned to get up at 6:30 a.m.   One of our cats decided, however, to be awake, very awake, and very vocal, at 6 a.m. already, so that’s when we woke up and shortly thereafter got up.   Not that that got us to Lawrence any sooner though – my intestines had other plans and kept me in the bathroom longer and more frequently than planned.

Anyway.  Once in Lawrence, we listened here and there, Mark took a break from the piano performances and listened to some strings before joining me for piano performances again, and later went to a nearby Panera to get lunch while I listened to yet another group of students.   In the early afternoon, we felt we needed a bit of a break (also to get online and check email etc), so we went to Panera for something sweet and something to drink but soon returned to Murphy Hall to listen some more.

We had plans to go straight from Lawrence to Emporia, for dinner with Jonathan whose birthday had been the previous Saturday.   Until shortly after 4 p.m., we stayed in Lawrence and then, after a short stop at a Starbucks for a coffee for me, made our way to Emporia.  It was getting dark, I was tired, and thanks to Mark’s willingness to do all the driving I was able to doze off for a bit.   

In Emporia, we met with Jonathan who showed us his new apartment, and then went out to eat.  The Chinese was excellent.  We had arranged with Jonathan to rent his cello from him, so after dinner he double-checked quickly to make sure everything was in the case, and then we left, Mark and I and the cello and left-over Chinese. 

It was another hour and a half, in the dark, to get back to Manhattan.  

The next day, Sunday, we felt old.  We didn’t have much energy to do anything.  We did manage to go to the Holiday Open House at Wildflower (Yarns and Knitwear) where we bought some yarn for a new scarf for Mark, and later in the afternoon I taught a make-up lesson for two students who had been unable to come to their regular lesson during the week. 

In the evening, we were very aware that the weekend was over and that there was not another Sunday the next day, to really recuperate.

Like I said, we are getting old.

Or maybe we are just not used to doing stuff anymore. 

The three legs of the trip – Manhattan to Lawrence, Lawrence to Emporia, Emporia to Manhattan – was a total of 260 miles.  For the 18 months we lived in Olathe, we used to drive 250 miles every Saturday, from Olathe to Manhattan and then in the evening back again,  so I could teach. 

How on earth did we do that??

One thing that both Mark and I miss about Olathe is the gym we had found there.  It was reasonably close to where we lived, right next to a Wal-Mart (grocery trip after exercising = save an extra trip).  It was reasonably clean, had everything we needed, including sauna, it was nice without being fancy.  The people who went there to exercise came in all shapes and sizes.  I never felt that anyone looked down on another for not being in shape (yet).  There were the muscular, well-exercised types (both female and male) who would run around the track again and again and again, passing us multiple times; I was out of breath just watching them.  Then there were obese people for whom staying on the stairmaster for more than 5 minutes was an accomplishment.  And everything in between. 

Before we moved to Manhattan at the end of last year, I had looked online at gyms here in town.  Found the K-State Rec Center and was shocked at how inexpensive it was, compared to our gym in Olathe. 

Weirdly (I don’t have an explanation), while Mark and I were very much looking forward to joining a gym here, we never “got around” to actually looking at the ones I had found online.  We finally – after about eight months? – looked at the K-State Rec Center and were dismayed.  It is dark and old and noisy. Where our gym in Olathe had an atmosphere of bustling energy, the Rec Center here just felt crowded.  And the lockers in particular were – old.  

On the assumption that our doctor would know a thing or two about the local gyms, we asked her for recommendations, and while she didn’t recommend one in particular, she was able to give us a bit more specific information about a few:  this one is really fancy, that one is open 24/7, another one is full of macho show-off types, etc.  and so on.

We had a list.  And didn’t do anything about it.  Last week, the mother of one of my students told us about a new Tai Chi class for beginners that happens Saturday mornings at 11.  Perfect!  Tai Chi – yes!  And for beginners!  Saturdays at 11 – perfect!  Guess who stayed up too late Friday night and didn’t get up in time to have a leisurely breakfast Saturday morning and then still make it to Tai Chi at 11. 

Last night, another Friday night, we had every intention to get up in time today and make it to the class.  

10:49 a.m. and it was clear that we would, again, miss the class. 

Sitting in front of the computer, next to each other, was just so much more enticing than getting up and …

I didn’t want to just not go to class.  I decided that even if we missed the class, again, we could do our own thing here. 

I asked Mark if he would be willing to join me in tearing ourselves away from the computer and do something for the next hour that would somehow count as exercise.  He immediately suggested to take the (over-flowing) recycling bin to Howie’s, as a start.  It felt good to get that done, to get out of the house, do something productive.  When we returned home, it was pretty much a no-brainer what our “exercise” would be: 

raking leaves.  Since we have only one rake, we took turns raking – one would rake, the other would take pictures, etc. 

I love the bunte Blätter against the blue sky.

Since both Mark and I are sorely out of shape, raking leaves for an hour, even when taking turns, wears us out.  It felt good.  Just like going to Howie’s:  we accomplished something.

Life is good.

 

For the last 15 years or so, before this January when we used the two upright pianos as a down payment for our new concert grand piano (a GS-70 Kawai), I’ve always had at least two acoustic pianos (plus a digital keyboard, to connect to computer).  I love it for teaching: student gets his/hers, I get mine, they get to watch me demonstrate (all the time) without having to get up (and then standing which skews the angle), and two-piano literature is so much easier to practice on two (similar) acoustic instruments than on one acoustic and a digital.

For ten months, I enjoyed the new grand.  I grew to really love its touch, the tone, the many different shades of tone, I kept telling Mark “there’s really nothing I can’t play on this piano!”

But I missed a second acoustic piano.  So, a few months after having paid off the Lexus which freed up a considerable amount of money each month, I went back to the piano store.  In their monthly flyer I had seen both a Yamaha upright and another Kawai concert grand which caught my interest.  The upright wasn’t what I expected but the grand (a KG-C6) did not only look like a twin to the one we already had but I already liked its tone and touch even though it will need a bit of work. 

I was anxious for Mark to see the instrument, to hear it and play it.  I rescheduled a lesson so we could both return to the store before they closed that day.  After looking at other instruments as well as the Kawai, we both felt that the Kawai would be a good addition to the piano room.  It would look good, and despite the work we are looking forward to having done, it was in perfect playing condition the way it was. 

I asked my favorite piano technician to look it over and give me an estimate of the work he’d like to do on the instrument, and how much it would cost.  Also, if he saw anything which, in a few years, would make me regret having bought this instrument.  About a week later, I heard from Charles – good news (not that I expected any different, I just wanted to double check):  everything looked ok, and the cost of the work he anticipated was quite reasonable.

Over the weekend, Mark spent much time and energy rearranging the piano room.  When we first moved into this house, we had two upright pianos which dictated pretty much where everything else had to go.  Now, with concert grands, though bigger than an upright, we had more flexibility because they don’t need to be against a wall.  We quickly found a setup we liked; Mark moved the book cases, I cleaned, and then we moved the couch, end tables, the children’s table, etc. and the grand to its new location.

There’s still room for improvement – I want to rearrange some of the books, etc.

Today, Wednesday, over the lunch hour, Dan and two other strong guys, delivered the new Kawai.  Fortunately, despite being cold and damp, it wasn’t raining.

.

In less than 45 minutes, Dan and his guys had the piano all set up. Mark had missed the delivery of the first piano, so he was thrilled to be able to watch this time. 

 

The piano weighs about half a ton.  Takes a couple of really strong guys to hold one end up while Dan attaches the third leg:

Attaching the pedals:

Ende gut, alles gut:

This afternoon, I taught a few lessons with this new arrangement, and I already love it.  Most of my students are working on concertos and I am really looking forward to being able to practice (and perform) them in this setting.

Life is good.

A year ago in August Sibylle and I made a one-day trip to Chicago so that she could renew her passport. Germany required digital fingerprints, and the nearest place she could provide them was the German Consulate in downtown Chicago. We made the trip an adventure and enjoyed seeing a tiny bit of the city on our own.

Mark in Chicago . August 2008

This past weekend we returned for two days and two nights to see both of my old college roommates and do a little sightseeing. We had a wonderful weekend.

Jim and his partner, Jim, live in the city of Chicago in the Lakeview neighborhood. My other roommate, Ted, lives with his family in Worcester Massachusetts. Ted was back in Illinois visiting his parents and I suggested that we all get together for a reunion. It’s been three years since the three of us have been together. Ted was willing to travel by train to Chicago, so Sibylle and I flew to the city via Southwest on Saturday  morning.

Living in Manhattan the airport is roughly two hours driving time away. Add in time to park and ride the shuttle bus and you are a good two and a half hours from the terminal. With a 10:15 am departure time we decided to drive over the night before and spend a night in a motel. We both agreed that this was a very smart move on our part. There was some construction along the way, that had we encountered Saturday morning with a looming deadline, would have upset both of us. Our room was great, and we were able to sleep into a reasonable hour (7:00 am) instead of getting up at 4:30 am to travel.

Jim and Jim met us at Midway and escorted us to Union Station where we picked up Ted from his train. The five us then had lunch in Lakeview before going to the Jim’s apartment.

Lunch with Jim and Ted and Jim in Chicago . August 2009

 Each year Jim and Jim celebrate their birthdays and anniversary with a combined party they call a “birtherary.” This year it was on the Saturday night we were all there, so we got to meet lots of their friends and eats lots of fantastic food.

Chicago . August 2009

Sunday morning was my roommate Jim’s director debut as interim music directory for their church, so we all went to watch. Ted had to leave early to catch his train back to central Illinois, but Sibylle and I stayed for the end of the service and then had lunch with Jim.

Chicago . August 2009 . Lunch with Jim

The three of us then toured Millennium Park and a tiny portion of Grant Park in downtown Chicago before returning to Laketown for dinner.

Chicago . August 2009

It was a bit of a whirlwind tour, but ultimately a wonderful weekend. Flying time from Kansas City to Chicago is only about and hour and ten minutes; hardly enough time to level off at cruising altitude before starting the descent; so we are hoping to return again sooner rather than later.

The Perfect Saturday actually starts Friday night, with a relatively early bedtime.  Going to bed shortly after 10 p.m. allows for “sleeping in” on Saturday, waking up without any kind of alarm around 7 a.m., up and about by 7:30.

While Mark retreats with his cereal to the office to look at cartoons on his computer, I go outside.  Inhale warm-but-not-yet-hot air and look around.  My little paradise:  potted plants – right on the front stoop a hydrangea which thanks to acidic fertilizer still blooms blue, violets that hang on despite the heat, along the driveway the yellow rose, the lavender, some other blue-flowering plant with a really weird name, and a dianthus which by now only grows leaves, vigorously though.  On the other side of  the driveway an oleander – I’ve wanted one for so long! :)  – whose buds are almost open, another dianthus, a catmint, and several geranium plants.  Along the house, in the ground, are impatiens, and sweet woodruff.  And a resident toad who lives by the planter on the other side of the front stoop.  In the backyard another rosebush:

All of this needs to be inspected, admired, watered, and generally tended to.   And pictures taken of.  Daily, if possible.

So, that’s where the first hour or so of my day goes.  Next:  a cup of Blackberry Sage tea.  Minor housekeeping: litter boxes, dishes, some laundry, etc.

While I am outside, I see that the car is in somewhat desperate need of being washed and waxed.  Mark offers to go do that while I retreat back into the house to take a shower. 

Once he returns, Mark and I contemplate what to do with the deliciously young day.  Farmer’s Market!  Aggieville!  And it’s not even 10 a.m.

Even though it’s only mid-morning, Mary has only two pies left – out of 26!  We take the last two, and another jar of honey, pick up two beautiful flower bouquets from another vendor, and head home.  Once the flowers are in vases, we go back into town, heading for Aggieville this time.  Bookstore!  Krystallos!  Coffeeshop!

I have a very limiting taste for clothes – I prefer natural fiber, preferably black, pants have to be wide-leg, skirts longer rather than shorter, tops/shirts loose and long-sleeve, jewelry on the dainty side because anything bigger than dainty looks klutzy on me.  It is not often that I find clothes I like and am willing to spend money on.  To make a long story short (the long story would involve accepting Mark’s offer to drive back home to get the 10% off coupon that we ended up not needing because they gave us 10% off just for spending over $100):  at Krystallos, we found the perfect outfit for me: black pants, bottle-green top, necklace.   Not only gratitude for having found a good outfit but also (almost more importantly) for Mark’s good job, my piano studio, normally frugal living which allows us to occasionally splurge like this.

It already was a very good morning.  

On to the Dusty Bookshelf, just to browse, and perhaps look for “Infinite Jest”, a book Mark has heard and read about but wants to look at before buying.  They didn’t have it but we found “A Beautiful Mind” which I had neither read nor seen.  Looking forward to reading it.  Just from peeking inside, I have already learned that Princeton was settled by Shakers.  Didn’t know that.

Across the street is Radina’s Coffeehouse.  It was getting close to noon and because we had had a fairly early breakfast we were getting hungry for lunch; didn’t really want to indulge in coffee/smoothie and something sweet, so we just picked up two scones, for dessert at home.

And so The Perfect Saturday continues. 

Lunch at home (thanks, Mark, for the pastrami sandwich) ~ strawberry-chocolate-chip scone for dessert  ~  fiddling around, cleaning up a bit (thank God for dishwasher where we get to hide the dirty dishes)  ~  photo-op session:  trying to come up with a usable picture (of me and the piano) which we might use on my website 

~  back into town:  Hastings to look for Infinite Jest which they didn’t have (does anyone??), buy another Iain Banks book instead  ~  back to Radina’s, this time for a steamer (steamed milk with almond) and lemonade.

Life is good.

Very, very good.

perfect Sunday afternoon

Ever since we moved (back) to Manhattan at the beginning of the year, Mark and I have marveled at our weekends. 

Until this year,  we travelled 250 miles (roundtrip) every Saturday (weather permitting); first when I still lived in Manhattan and Mark still lived in Overland Park and I would come up Thu or Fri to see him for the weekend, then when I moved to Olathe and Mark moved in with me,  we travelled to Manhattan so I could teach my Saturday students.   We enjoyed the time together, we called it “Manhattan Day” and did “Manhattan” things – go to Hastings for coffee and internet, walk through Aggieville, visit Krystallos (one of my favorites shops there), go for a short walk, and so on.

We both enjoy driving, so we usually split the commute:  I would drive to Manhattan – unless it was raining; I didn’t like the way the car behaved in the rain so I let Mark do the driving then -; he would drive on the way back.  Mark had a Sprint mobile broadband card which allowed us to be online even in the car, and we made good use of that.  We often said that while we were looking forward to the day when we wouldn’t have to make that commute anymore, we did enjoy it for what it was:  a day together. 

We put a lot of miles on the car, and between the two times two hours driving plus several more hours teaching, “Manhattan Day” took up an entire day.  There was really not much else that we did on Saturdays.  I suppose we could have but it would have felt crammed, and usually we were tired by the time we got back.

Now that we are here in Manhattan, Saturdays once again belong to us – actually, not “once again” but “for the first time ever”.  For the first time, we have a real weekend, and we treat it with sacred respect:  I don’t teach on Saturdays anymore, and unless there is an event, every couple of weeks, we keep Saturdays and Sundays completely open on the calendar.

Every Saturday evening now, after a beautifully relaxed and usually quiet day, we smile at each other, and say, “… and tomorrow we get another day just like today!”

It’s not that we don’t do anything on Saturdays:  yesterday, for instance, we took our recycling to Howie’s (first time for Mark; I told him that now he’s a real Manhattanite), followed by a trip to one of the coffee shops for some lemon bread and carrot cake in the process of which we got caught up in the St. Patrick’s Day parade and general masses of people  which – even though we are not “people” people (meaning we are perfectly happy by ourselves) – we enjoyed; next to Glenn’s to drop off some materials for an upcoming concert in the process of which I ran into fellow teacher and friend Bonnie who invited Mark and me into her studio because she wanted to show me some books in the process of which we chatted and discussed and generally caught up because we hadn’t seen each other in so long; much later back home.  Lunch, some work in the garage which is still quite full of boxes, but thanks to Mark not overflowing anymore; quick trip to Eastside Market for some flowering plants; and the rest of the afternoon was spent outside, potting plants, building a temporary, make-shift fireplace from old bricks we had found in the backyard, burning some old branches the wind had thrown down.

A busy day, yet utterly relaxed and peaceful and – at home.  No more driving two hours and spending the day away from home.

Life is good.