Somewhere, Out There

And even though I know how very far apart we are,
It helps to think we might be wishing on the same bright star…

Okay, so it’s not a star, but we had the rare clear sky with the full moon this past week, and were overjoyed to see that familiar face. We’ve had quite an unexpected cold snap here. Our friends in the Borders are bewailing the half inch of ice on the wheelbarrow as they’ve just finished planting their umpteen thousand bulbs (their yard will be a sight come Spring) and D. briefly succumbed to some sort of four day sinus infection/bronchial/fever thing. It’s the sign from the universe to step away from the sugar and start piling on the oranges. (Ooh! Clementine pie! Oh, wait…)

The wind is whipping, and noses are dripping, and the Dark Night of the Soul which will go on until, oh, say March, has begun… which means it’s past time to begin rehearsing for the big Christmas shows. The City Chorus, who we were just told were highlighted on Songs of Praise this past June (that’s a BBC One Sunday a.m. television/radio hymn show, which holds the distinction of being the longest-running show in the world. It started in 1961.) puts on two big theater shows downtown during the holidays, and does matinee shows, so people can duck in from shopping, refresh themselves, and hurl themselves back into the fray. The choir whittles its main group 250-ish down to fifty voices, and D. has been begged to sing, as tenors are a vanishingly small section, as opposed to the common-on-the-ground sopranos.

“There’s never enough time to rehearse,” Director Nearly Knighted informed us, then handed us a thirty page sheaf of German carols (with harp accompaniment!) and some traditional pieces from the Oxford Book of Carols.

Christmas music just couldn’t be easy, could it?

If anyone’s familiar with the Oxford book, it’s got carols in there, all right – with alternate tunes from the ones Americans grow up singing. And it’s got descants, of course. So, while the Christmas songs will be old standards to everyone else, we’ll be sight-reading and hoping to keep up. This two weeks after our first big concert the 20th of November, of course. Happy Holidaze. Still, since we’re not flying back to the States for Christmas, it’s something to keep us occupied. Plus, the biggest positive is that with so much wildly unfamiliar music, we won’t be sick to death of hearing Christmas songs before it’s time. Bonus!

That being said, the lights are going up in George Square – definitely before time. We walked past them last night, and our friend L. tried to reassure us — “Well, they’re not actually lit yet…” No. And again, we remind ourselves: No Thanksgiving here. They’re perfectly justified to have the Christmas season start the third of November.

Okay, ALMOST perfectly justified. ::sigh::

Meanwhile, T. has bumped into an opportunity for a book review. The usual question from many new acquaintances is “What brings you to Scotland?” and after the explanation, “So, what do you do all day?” and generally once T. mentions writing, people make noises like, “Oh, I wanted to write a book,” or, “Oh, my so-and-so is a writer,” and polite discourse concludes. This time, the script changed. A. asked, “Have you been featured in The List yet?” Well, no, T. hasn’t been featured there. It’s a Scottish publication for the arts – bands, operas, film, shows, books, gallery openings – which produces the Edinburgh Festival Guide every year, and is basically not something she ever thought to appear in, as her book is published in the U.S. However, since A. knows someone who writes for them, and since the battalion in the book land briefly in Glasgow, this is Of Interest.

T. is instructed to bring her books to choir next week (good thing her editor gave her a few for promotional purposes), sign and sell them (Amazon UK appears to be too slow for her new fans) and a copy will be passed along for a review. Since the UK has a lot of historians who are keen on WWII, she hopes it will meet with approval. She’s also a little rattled to have so many people all peering at her, as A. practically stood on a chair and announced to the entire soprano section that, “We have an author in our midst!”

It’s good to have fiends, uh, friends out there, and we’re grateful for you, too.