After my previous post I had, as I had rather hoped and anticipated, a fantastic weekend.
Kath arrived and we ran round the Tarn a couple of times – despite the fact that she had a cold – and then came back and drank wine and ate game pie while chatting by the fire. Being also recently separated, we have a lot to discuss. As usual I should perhaps admit to being the one who did most of the talking, while Kath listened. She is one of those lovely modest, supportive people who make you feel great about yourself – but I always wonder what I give in return. Maybe a bit of inspiration? I’m perhaps more outgoing and driven – not always a good thing – and possibly make her realise that things are possible? Who knows. She deserves a fantastic new man who sees that she is wonderful, and who doesn’t trample on her. I’m not saying the last one trampled on her, or didn’t think she was wonderful – I don’t know – just what my perception is of what I think she needs. Someone who will hold her up and let her flower.
She thinks ‘France’ is poking its head up for me. For reasons which I may get round to explaining later, ‘writing’ also continues to do so. Will my future somehow combine France and writing?
On Saturday morning I headed off to St. Cuthberts church. In order to get a lift I had promised I would attend choir practice, sing with the choir at a wedding and then go back to Gerald and Deborah’s pre-concert. The wedding was a bit bizarre – most of the attendees looked as if they were going to a night club rather than to church – but also lovely. It brought a tear to my romantic eye as I have always regretted I didn’t get married in church, and also of course every wedding is so full of hope and optimism: at my wedding I got a bit hysterical (giggles and then tears) as we had Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries to come in to and I actually felt a bit nervous about the whole thing. Something which many people will, I hope, not know is that I also fell out of my top – only for a moment and I was holding Alex (5.5 months old at the time) so I don’t think anyone noticed, but embarrassing and memorable even so.
(sad, isn’t it, that such a happy occasion can end so sadly. Mind you we both look A LOT younger in these photos – let alone Alex!).
Deborah and I then went shopping for props for the concert, which took far longer than anticipated, and had time for a quick run-through of a couple of things before then heading back in to town for the Main Event: our second Raise the Roof concert.
Sadly we weren’t able to sing Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater in candlelight – which would have been an effectively dramatic beginning to the concert – but the eclectic mix of genres seemed to go down well with the audience. Whilst I know I made some minor mistakes in Faure’s Les Roses d’Ispahan, it appears that nobody else noticed – Kath commenting that she liked hearing me singing in French. My final piece was Kurt Weill’s What Good would the Moon Be, which I felt I sang and performed well: Kerry the next day told me that she had had quite a lump in her throat. Deborah and I finished with a hammed-up and not very accurately sung performance of the Cat Duet, along with a battle of flowers: it went down really well and was a good way to end the concert. Keith, the vicar, has invited us back – perhaps in September.
Post-concert last year I had gone home to be met by a sleeping house: a real dampener on any spirits. This year I was staying at Deborah and Gerald’s and we got a take away, drank several bottles of wine and stayed up talking until about 2 a.m. (Deborah in fact stayed up until 4 a.m.). I woke up the next morning feeling a little the worse for wear and accompanied them to church, where I sang with the choir again and then got invited to go to France with them (do you spot a theme commencing here?).
In the afternoon I went running up the Ridge and through Ridge Woods with Kerry. It was hard work and I felt as if I needed oiling, but was well worth it. Life was looking good again, and my children would be home with me in a couple of hours’ time.
A couple of days later we entered Kielder 10k. One day we’ll do Kielder marathon again.