Lunenburg, NS - on the very comfy sofa in the guests' parlour at Solomon House
I've carved some free time from my schedule today after a crazily busy weekend. Saturday began with a Tempest rehearsal in DG's house in Halifax before I enforced compulsory lying on the floor doing nothing, and Kirsty drove us to Lunenburg. I figured correctly that it would be the last opportunity to do nothing for a long time.

By the time Paul and Nick Halley's concert came along that evening I'd found myself playing in 8 pieces, including some really loud organ stuff, only one of which I'd seen more than 24 hours previously. Cue a frantic day of learning notes, rehearsing, and harpsichord tuning, while hoping for somewhere to stay that night and pointing out that I was going to be just a bit too busy to act as a taxi service all week for people staying 5 miles away. (Sometimes saying 'No' is quite easy.) CBC were recording the show for broadcast too. So no pressure then. And none of us benighted artists seemed to have been given any helpful information about what was meant to be going on. In Concerto Caledonia we have a saying 'RTFS', which stands for Read The Something Schedule. But there wasn't one. At one point, having discovered that the harpsichord was half a semitone sharp and the tuning key was still a few miles away, I was moving purposefully between the church and Chris's place where I'd left my suitcase, when Janet Palmer called a hello from her doorstep and asked where I was staying. 'Good question', I called back, having resigned myself to the nearest sofa. Instead I found myself in her wonderful 18th century B&B for two nights. As Suzie put it, 'You lucked out'. 

After the concert, I was so relieved to be able to stop, but still so fuelled up with adrenaline that I walked up and down my room telling myself how happy I was.  My bedside reading here includes a pre-WW1 reading primer from Nova Scotia, full of short fairytales and improving moral poetry. Just about my level.

Yesterday's concert was the Tempest extravaganza, which included a completely wild set of klezmer tunes with Adrianne Greenbaum - the craziest noise I think I've ever made on a harmonium. Face-cracking grins all round from the rhythm section. And beforehand, an interesting discussion of rhyming and historical pronunciation in ballad texts with Edmund Brownless. I wish I'd not made such a hash of John Munday's Fitzwilliam Virginal Book setting of Bonny Sweet Robin - I played it perfectly in the afternoon, but by the concert, my brain was too fried to be entirely reliable. At least CBC weren't recording that one (not that I knew about that until the mics didn't show up). 

I've taken myself out of some of my teaching duties today, to help effect the transition from last-minute preparations for performing, to giving my attention to other people. If I get a good night's sleep tonight, I might just begin to function adequately again. Playing a couple of concerts really doesn't have to be this exhausting. This is why we have management.