I would say I’m tired, but that hardly seems adequate. It’s been a long day, and a good one. I left my inlaws’ place in New Jersey this morning around 10 am and started driving south on the Turnpike toward Washington. On the way, I decided to call my mother at my grandfather’s in Leola, PA; the family Christmas party was to be on Sunday and I wanted to make sure she got in OK. “Oh,” she said, “it’s actually today, from 12 to 6.” I looked at where I was and decided to forgo an afternoon in DC — and spent a lovely time with my relatives in the church basement, catching up.
I’m now at Cheeselords Manor, where my friends Skip and George live. I used to sing with them in a twelve voice men’s Renaissance ensemble called the Suspicious Cheese Lords (it’s badly translated from the title of a Tallis motet, Suscipe Quaeso Domine). I’ll be guesting with them tomorrow morning at DC’s Franciscan Monastery. I feel humbled after running through the music–it’s been too long since I sang.