I hope I never lose my sense of wonder. If that makes me naive, then so be it.

Tuesday, 30 December 2008


Another Christmas has come and gone, many lovely memories made and happy times had. We spent Christmas Eve afternoon eating (and eating and eating) with good friends, then headed to church for a nice service. Uberguitarist's rendition of 'Silent Night' on the classical guitar was a highlight for me. Beautiful. After that it was to another friend's house, complete with more food. I was still full from the afternoon so didn't indulge too much.

Christmas Day was loads of fun for the kiddies, dinner was a nice collection of our Ottawa family, with the B's and the G's both joining us for lunch. Much playing and laughing ensued. Boxing Day was an amazing brunch at the B's, joined by some good friends.

Yet for all those memories, it still felt like it didn't quite happen. It's strange. I think it's because December was so disjointed and I didn't do all the things I usually do. About a week before the day I had my reality check with myself and realized that giving gift baskets full of homemade goodies wasn't going to happen. Between recording and being sick, to try and do it would be too much of a stretch for my sanity and our family life. So this year, that was bypassed.

Don't get me wrong; we had a wonderful week off with D at home and some low-key family time, which I always treasure. It just felt different this year. Still good, just different.

Thursday, 18 December 2008


The floor beneath my feet is shaking. In fact, I can feel it through the seat of the chair. We're into recording again, and this time it's drum tracks for the complete CD.

So as I type I hear BOOM BOOM (ting ting) SNAP BOOM BOOM (ting) CRASH BANG BOOM, with my feet feeling the BOOMs.

The living room's acoustics are once again being put into use, with the drum kit all set up and mic'ed on Tuesday. Last night we moved out one of the sofas to make room for our Christmas tree, which D brought home from work. Well, brought home from a tree lot on his way home from work - he doesn't work at a tree farm. Usually the tree hunt is a family event, but with our schedule and my cold, it wasn't going to happen. He chose a great tree and it looks lovely with all the vintage ornaments and of course The Star With the Cool History (blogged about in '07) on top.

Today, tomorrow and next Tuesday will be loud ones here at the farm. Wonder what the critters outside and inside the house think?

Friday, 12 December 2008


It always seems to come this time of year, and I saw it creeping around the corners and peeking out at me, waiting to strike. You'd think I would learn, send it tickets to Cuba or some such thing to get it away from here, but year after year it's the same thing. On Tuesday it sprung out at me and I was done for.

Tuesday night everything ached. If I touched my hair, the follicles hurt. If I put on a sweater I felt every teensy part of my skin hurting. So, with sore throat, sore nose (from blowing it so often), and no energy my week has seen very little getting accomplished. While my throat felt better yesterday, this morning it's sore again.

On the plus side, I have had three very good little helpers through the day who have kindly made me tea, and one wonderful husband who has shooed me off to bed and reminded me that it's ok if the laundry isn't folded, and the band will be ok for missing one week's rehearsal, and the Christmas baking can be done later or skipped, and he'll take care of the dishes. I love my family.

Tuesday, 9 December 2008


I couldn't believe how much my hand was shaking as I clicked the mouse button.

Really, I've been pretty calm so far - happy, in a daze, and calm. I think the whole surreal feeling was behind that. Now I'm shaking. I've reached the point where the big event is really here and I can't sit still.

My baby is online and I'm just hoping nobody says it's ugly - "it's ok, but...", sort of the musical equivalent of "but he's got a nice personality". At the same time, though, I recognize the need for feedback and am remembering that this is a first go and I hope to learn from it. The song will be at least partially re-recorded for the full-length CD and so to learn is to make it better.

To my knowledge it has already been heard in BC, Nova Scotia, Alabama, and Ireland. Gotta love the internet.

Thursday, 4 December 2008

for real this time

Last night we started the Real Thing. Tim came over to set up loads of pretty and expensive things whose names escape me and always will, then Uberguitartist came over, got set up, and started to play. And I stood in the kitchen listening and realizing that this cut was going public.

I always do that with big things. My wedding, our big trips - all were something huge coming and all seemed to be 'way out there until they were really, truly and unequivocally HERE. When the rest of the gang arrived, my amazing backup singing crew, they launched into it and I could just hear it all coming together.

Funny thing about the evening was, I barely sang a note, just enough to remind people of the occasional part. It was quite a change from the two weeks of ghost tracks where what I heard on playback was all me. They sounded great. The beauty of recording showed up as my six friends became a huge choir. The looks on their faces was probably one of my highlights of the evening for me - their delight at hearing what they'd done and how it sounded was so fun to see.

The girls had recorded the bridge before anyone else arrived, and their little voices sounded so sweet. They took it all in stride, headphones in place over one ear and singing into the mic. All decided that recording is a Very Fun Thing To Do.

As a bit of a break from all this glamorous recording stuff, R came in to tell me that only eleven hens were in the roost (a fact that carries several episodes of deja vu here on the farm). The door had been left open and one hadn't come back for the night. I reassured her by saying maybe she'd been caught out as the sun went down and had roosted in another barn. We made a quick search with a flashlight, R calling for the hen and me looking for the telltale feathers that would let me know she'd been snatched, to no avail. After everyone had gone for the night I headed out, crunching over the snow, looking again. As I rounded the coop I saw her huddled against the outside of the building, blinking at me but quiet. Surprised to find her safe and sound, I picked her up at which point she started making these little soft cooing noises over and over. If a chicken can purr, I think I heard it last night.

The piano gets tuned today, and tonight I add the real piano part and the real lead vocal. The girls may re-record some of what they did yesterday, and then by next week I have a track ready for online download.

It's real, and it's here.