These past two weeks I have been playing catch-up on my list of soon-to-be-overdue tasks – like income tax preparation, which I just kept putting off and off. Just to get all the documents organized for a tax preparer to work on felt like a trip to the dentist, for me. It appears the human brain is either wired for numbers or notes. Yes, music itself is mathematical, but in my experience many musicians, including me, are not!

I finally gave our lawn, or as it was near to being named, “the disgrace of the neighborhood,” its first haircut of the spring, long after all the other yards on the street have been mowed and look beautiful. I did it with head hanging low and almost as much shame as I still have for the shambles my composing studio is in. It’s just been too busy lately, and things left undone tend to become even worse. On a more positive note, I have a project planned of replacing the ugly metal poles that hold up the lights around our patio with 4 X 4 wood posts cemented into half-barrels, like in these photos (these pics are of someone else’s house).  Wish me luck. If it ever stops freezing on random nights (in May?), we’ll put in the flowers.

I finally gave in and signed up for Instagram, but not in order to post anything there. It is only for me to see the posts posted by our ballet PR guys and keep up with a few other music friends. Meanwhile, I have dug in and begun making the pit orchestra scores (get it — “dug. . . pit”?) and editing the players’ parts on the computer for the ballet. That is my proverbial 40-hour week now, in terms of time spent, in spite of all the above distractions and ongoing plumbing and car troubles (both now mercifully fixed).

The National Catholic Register, with it’s hefty print circulation of forty-five thousand and many thousands more online, has published a lovely story about dear Raffaella, who inspired the ballet, and yours truly gets a mention. Here is the link: CLICK HERE .

By day, Crystal is working hard with her kids at school to put on their version of the musical Annie in April, including teaching them some impressive choreography, getting costumes, props, and sound. I had to chuckle when I heard that the guy who put up all their microphones is named “Mike.” Maybe I’d be doing the same, had I not chosen to go by “Michael.”

We did find time to have dinner out and go to the movie Cabrini, which we both loved, and we went to a terrifying live performance of Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, in which a friend (who was “Papa” in Dear Miss Barrett) played the title role of Caesar and got stabbed. For Easter weekend it will be a lovely B&B in Hot Springs, Arkansas! First time there for both of us. It’s about a six hour drive from home.

Finally, I confess I have sneakily composed several measures of the final movement of my new Symphony No. 3: “English” when no one was looking. Though editing the ballet, the symphony music brews continually in my mind, as my brain is still hanging in the air, halfway through the final movement. I always wonder whether the great composers had all these ordinary situations of life and were still able to compose. Of course they did. They say Beethoven was obsessed with his laundry! Puccini stole his church’s organ pipes and sold them as scrap so that he could afford to buy cigarettes. And did they even know (or care) that they were “great” (I’m pretty sure most did not), or were they just trying to cope with everything on their plate and make a living?   

Does all of this sound anything like your crazy life? I’m betting it does, in the level of craziness if not in the same details. Hang in there. We are all in this life together. Here’s a little bonus from the ballet Instagram, a photo of one of the dress costumes being handmade for our ballerina playing the principal role of Raffaella. Lovely!