Tomorrow is the Summer Music Concert and I have found it to be particularly difficult to organise this year, so I decided not to go to play and sing with the silly adults that I usually join on a Wednesday night. Instead, I have made a programme, sorted music out, practised the piano and put backing tracks on a CD. It could be argued that this was a good move, as I am now a little prepared.
However, I think it was a mistake. I'm not happy with the pieces I have to play to accompany. I will carry on practising for a few more hours, I'm sure I won't sleep and my neck and shoulders are very tight.
I should have gone to play music and have a laugh. The concert will be fine. Fine, I tell you. Absolutely fine. Perfectly fine. Even more than perfectly fine. No one is coming to listen to me anyway and the children are always brilliant. What are you worrying for, woman?
I should have gone to play the Bass Clarinet, that I have recently taken up. The Bass Clarinet is a therapeutic instrument, especially on the low notes. In a lesson today the class were playing percussion instruments and they managed to play the same rhythm all at the same time. I got quite excited and jumped around the room shouting, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
One of the children said, "When we played that I could feel the vibrations through the floor and it felt good."
That's what it's like playing the Bass Clarinet, although I'm told that a Contrabass Clarinet is even better. Apparently, it rivals leaning up against the washing machine.
You'll be pleased that I can't write more rambling words tonight, as I have piano to burn.
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