Sunday thoughts...

It was one of those spring days that look lovely out the window, but in reality, there was a frigid wind that blew into all my orifices once I set foot out the door. This did not make me happy. Screw gratitude parking on days like this. I cozied up to the Center for Spiritual Living and went in to hear all about forgiveness, always a good thing. Saw a lot of dear and old friends I had not seen forever. Then sojourned down the 101 corridor to speak at a noon meeting, where once again, friends popped up. A quick trip to Costco yielded Sumatra coffee and one of those jumbo hot dogs with lots of relish and gourmet mustard, which I managed to scarf up on the short drive home. I then got out my vinyl and took my new turntable for a spin. First recording was Eugene Ormandy's 1960ish recording of Tchaikowsky's 7th Symphony. Wait, you say? He only wrote six, right? Right, but someone found the sketch of this one, at least the first two movements, then students filled out the requisite third and fourth, and voila! Listening to it, it is so obviously Tchaikowsky, so like him, and really brilliant. And kind of poppy and there is a scratch or two. Gee, this record is over 40 years old! What do you want, anyway? I'm actually rather proud that it is as good as it is. And precious. My youth in a cardboard sleeve. I get all gooey listening to it. And I remember a day when my husband yelled "come quick!" and we heard the self-same first two movements played as the 2nd Piano Concerto! I never want to forget that day, and how in love I was with this music. Still pretty wonderful, too.