"It's not that bad," people say as they see me with my head in my hands, covering my ears, trying to erase the auditory memory of the growler and the girl whose singing sounds like a Muslim call to prayer.
"It starts earlier and earlier every year," others complain.
It is all beginning to make me feel old and tired and the children aren't helping. They have also noticed that the festive excitement cranks up earlier each year.
"We've decided that as Christmas gets earlier every year then by the time we're your age it will start in January."
I hope not.
These children could be the music teachers of the future. How will they cope if it does?
Christmas music can't be practised with children before the beginning of November. Parents will send out death threats if you do. How will those poor music teachers get everything ready without the ability to time travel?
It's bad enough already. Our first Christmas concert for the orchestra is next Thursday. Yes, I know it's not even December yet and that means we've only had three rehearsals where we could play carols and Christmas songs. It'll be fine. Of course it will. Perfectly fine!
This week, in school, I was teaching a song about Christmas dinner and so we are firmly in the realm of the festive mondegreen. "Nuts and currents weeding out the greedy ants."
I told them that next week we would be learning some of the more traditional carols, rather than the songs. I have put this off until now because I need to be in the right frame of mind for the most highly flavoured lady and Away in a manger no crisps in the bed the little Lord Jesus lays down his sweet ted. The more archaic the language the more potential for a misheard lyric.
"Who was Carol anyway?"
They have such good questions.
This week's orchestra rehearsal was a takeover. As I was trying to sort out a letter to parents with the dates and dress codes for all the concerts (because the children, even when they are as old as 18, don't share this information) they organised themselves and started playing. One of the older members decided to conduct.
I couldn't believe my luck; a chance to sit down, put my feet up and play the sleigh bells. I made everyone take a turn, searching for my replacement, as retirement sometimes feel like a very good idea.
Each one stood on the platform biting their nails, the edge of their jumper sleeves or bottom lip.
"What shall I do?"
"That's up to you."
"Errm. Yes, but how do I do it?"
"You've been watching the conductor, right?"
Their eyes pleaded, "make them be quiet"
"You have to catch their attention."
"How."
I shrugged.
Obviously, the younger, newer members had more support.
"Of course you can do it. (sotto voce) They don't watch anyway. What's your favourite Carol?"
This led to my colleagues discussing their favourite Carol.
Carol the 2nd of Romania.
Carol Kirkwood.
CarolThatcher
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| Pope John Paul II - Karol Wojtyler |
I was about to tell my favourite Christmas joke when I noticed our youngest player hanging on my every word.
I'm sure I've told this joke on my blog before but at this time of year it's always worth repeating your favourite Carol.
Three men arrive at the Pearly Gates on Christmas Eve and St Peter says to them, "Right lads, as it's Christmas I'll only let you in if you've got something with you that represents the true spirit of Christmas."
The first man panics a bit, pats his pockets, thinking that he has nothing except a lighter, so he pulls it out and lights it and says, "Errm, this is a light and it errrrm represents the errrrm light that God sent into the world by errrrm giving us his son at Christmas."
"Ooo, very good," says St Peter, "you're in."
The second man has broken out into a profuse sweat. He only has his keys. So, in desperation, he takes them out of his pocket and as he does so he breathes a huge sigh of relief as he hears them jangle. He shakes them loudly and says, "These keys represent the bells that ring out throughout the land on Christmas morning."
"It's a bit lame but Okay, you're in," says St Peter.
The third man is completely calm. Instantly he pulls a pair of women's frilly panties out of his pocket and waits.
St Peter scratches his head, "I'm sorry, they are very nice knickers but I don't understand what they've got to do with Christmas."
"They're Carol's!" replies the third man smugly.
The first man panics a bit, pats his pockets, thinking that he has nothing except a lighter, so he pulls it out and lights it and says, "Errm, this is a light and it errrrm represents the errrrm light that God sent into the world by errrrm giving us his son at Christmas."
"Ooo, very good," says St Peter, "you're in."
The second man has broken out into a profuse sweat. He only has his keys. So, in desperation, he takes them out of his pocket and as he does so he breathes a huge sigh of relief as he hears them jangle. He shakes them loudly and says, "These keys represent the bells that ring out throughout the land on Christmas morning."
"It's a bit lame but Okay, you're in," says St Peter.
The third man is completely calm. Instantly he pulls a pair of women's frilly panties out of his pocket and waits.
"They're Carol's!" replies the third man smugly.
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