Seattle Tilth is an organization that helps people to grow their own organic food.   They say this on their website in TilthSpeak, a dialect of GrantSpeak.  But that’s neither here nor there.  What is here, or rather was there is their spring edible plant sale, which I went to last Saturday. It was Tim’s idea.   Read the Rest…

Two huge raccoons raced in front of me last night when I was calling the cats.  The cats were sitting three yards away and refused to look at me, the person who feeds them.  They were like people at a sports event waiting for a moment they had anticipated and fantasized about all season.  The  Read the Rest…

Previously on this blog, my neighbor Gwen who knows something about just about everything had fixed my wireless connection (without my interference because I was asked to leave the house) and had cabled my computer up to the TV with the cable that she bought (so as to get the correct one on the first  Read the Rest…

My new student Alexis is six years old, directive– bossy actually–and bright.  She walks into the house in high-heeled sandals, and swathed in layers of leggings, dresses, and sweaters.  She comes into the house talking about the dog she saw on the way to my house.  She tells me what she has done in the  Read the Rest…

In an effort to prolong the aura of my recent thirty hours in Portland I am writing up notes made over a bowl of beef stew in the Heathman Hotel restaurant.  My former piano student Anna got me a rate at the hotel “where service is still an art” through her work at Rubicon International  Read the Rest…

Finally this story can be told.  It should be said at once that the whole business is anti-climactic, but I am going ahead with it.  It begins shortly after Thanksgiving Day when Gwen my neighbor who knows something about just about everything and I were planning our Christmas debauchery, to include a movie, a chicken,  Read the Rest…

It’s Christmas Eve (morning).  There are streaks of rose madder in the sky.  All is calm and bright before The Onslaught of Holiday.  This morning I read Robert Browning’s (very) long poem “Christmas Eve.”  A dream is set off by the poet going into a dreary church service on Christmas Eve, falling asleep during the  Read the Rest…

The OK Chorale has sung itself into performance mode: two down and two to go. You still have a chance to hear us if you live in Seattle.  We sang for Pinehurst Court, a senior housing complex, and home of the grandmother of one of our sopranos.  It was a hot, crowded, noisy venue but  Read the Rest…

It’s Thanksgiving Morning.  We all do this day differently.  Not everyone loves the big, jovial family dinners.  Not everyone even wants a big, jovial family.  One of my students this week told me that the best Thanksgiving she ever had was spent with her dog, a bottle of champagne, and a box of chocolates.  There  Read the Rest…

I knew I’d be writing this post at some point but I thought I had another few weeks.  Last night a friend named Karen died.  For the ten years I was music director at the church, Karen had been popping her gum in the pew and feeding dog biscuits to Marvin, her Miniature Pinscher. As  Read the Rest…