DD: Crikey, Mum, anyone would think the Queen of London was coming over.
Me: Hurry, hurry, people! Get in your Pa-Jimmies! The baby-sitter is coming!
I exited the apartment as soon as the Dear Local Queen of Babysitters had arrived, to the strains of DS's over-tired histrionics. As I scooted away into the night I thought fondly of the oft-used words of my own Dear Brother whenever he exited my cacophonic, food- and toy-strewn house: 'See ya, wouldn't want to be ya!'
In this case, I most definitely did want to be me: I was off to a rehearsal for the Easter Chorale, with my new Project Choir (Projekt Chor). We were to sing Heinrich Schutz's Johannes-Passion and, frankly, I was having the best time being an über music-nerd.
Having just finished reading 'The Architecture of Happiness' by Alain de Botton, I shouldn't have been surprised to be so utterly taken aback at the vast quietness of the space inside the local spired church. As it was, my chaotic, hurried brain was stopped in its tracks, and I was rendered speechless.The acoustics were as good as the space promised, and by the end of the rehearsal I was exhausted and entirely humbled - partly due to the fact that the choir director speaks about 7 words of English, and none of those are particularly helpful when attempting to tell a bunch of altos they need to put a bit more hatred into their words as they are, after all, singing about crucifying Jesus.
I suppose it was just lucky that I returned to find a quiet apartment with children dutifully sleeping, and a nonplussed DLQB doing her homework.
PS. As it turned out, the concert was sung on a snowy Easter Friday night, and was attended by DH and DD. Notably, DD managed to record with the video camera a few choice moments of Buxtehude organ-work and rather a lot of the final applause. DS was left in the capable hands of the DLQB, and very happily wore his Power Ranger gum-boots.
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