the adlards

So what do you do?
I advise orchestras on what to play, how to prepare, and I write the blurb for their programs.
What sort of advice do orchestras need?
They might want to know which edition of a piece of music they should be looking at. Orchestras (in the US) prepare very thoroughly before rehearsals begin because the musicians are unionised and having a hundred musicians sitting around while you organise things is a very bad idea. So they might tell me who their conductor will be and I can say “Well, being Polish he will have learned that piece of music from a particular Russian edition that calls for four more french horns than you’re planning for.” So then they can go to the conductor before the time and say “Maestro, would you like four more french horns?” It’s not easy to get four more french horns on the day.

Isn’t that cool? I’d enjoy doing that. Except for the part about having to know so much about music.

We test-pitched our tent on Sunday. We’ve had a few glorious forerunner-of-summer sorts of days recently in between torrential rain. Sunday was one of those and as soon as the ground had dried out a bit we put the tent up. We’re determined to camp this summer; quite a lot I hope. We had it up in about 40 minutes and I think we could shave a few minutes off that next time having figured out that if one person climbs into it at pitch-time it all works much better. The tent was none the worse for wear after a year bagged up (we last pitched it here). The upstairs bathroom was a little creased and we didn’t bother to install the third bedroom, preferring the patio option.

I spend quite a lot of time travelling at the moment and inevitably, therefore, more than average amounts of time in shared conveniences. These are not my favourite places: I have a thing about room freshener. Still, every now and then something happens to brighten up the experience. Someone slips on a wet floor, puts their hand in a urinal to steady themselves and is left deciding whether to risk leaving their overnight bag behind them while they wash their hands. Yes indeed, The Gents is a place of testing, a winnowing floor for hygienic priorities: to answer the phone or not to answer the phone?

This morning I had an answerer. I don’t understand that – do you answer because the call’s important or because it’s unimportant? I hadn’t realised that there was another person making use of the facilities until I heard a distinctive “plop” followed shortly by the Nokia tune and I was left thinking:
Paper towel or dryer? Paper towel or dryer? I wish Josie was here to blow loud raspberries while I use the dryer.

We invested in a waffle iron this weekend. It’s an investment of time more than money – American waffles, Belgian waffles, wholewheat waffles, innumerable separated egg whites beaten until stiff.
Still, the girls enjoy them:

Sophie’s doing much better now. We thought we were going to end up back in hospital on Wednesday, but hung in there and she made it through. Today she started eating, which is always good, and has been toddling around in her tiger mask roaring ferociously: wow … wow … wow

Sophie has her first proper cold and is suffering horribly. She’s two, so she’s not suffering alone: while I was testing what is apparently empirically the best possible bed in all of hoteldom, Michelle was sleeping (in the loosest possible sense) on the floor next to Sophie’s bed.

We have discovered that anti-histamine nose-drying medicines are notorious triggers in epileptics – possibly partly responsible for her hospitalisation in Feb – and we are, as a result, at something of a loss as to how to help her.

Poor ldl thng.

Pics of the visit to the Fire Station and of Lego in the gallery.

For the girls of course …

Will update the gallery in due course 🙂

In Josie-land norsually means the same thing as normally and usually. Who needs two words for the same thing anyway?

Overheard:
Are you ready to order, Sir?
OK. We’ll have three kaffee luttays and …
Excuse me Sir?
Three kaffee luttays .. one fulter coffee and a keppucheeno please.

the small things that amuse