Whoa, what a weekend!
Nov. 21st, 2004 10:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pennfanaWell...the full name of the tune is really "Nelson Mandela's Welcome to the City of Glasgow", but I ran out of room. =P
Anyway, so much for the lack of birthday humiliation...today my grandparents took me to the local Swiss Chalet as a belated birthday supper and Grandma insisted that I have a piece of cake for dessert. (This made me slightly suspicious, as she normally doesn't approve of such unhealthy desserts; usually when we have supper at my grandparents' house in Bruce Mines the dessert is something that's at least moderately more healthy than chocolate cheesecake, delicious as the said healthier dessert always is.) I didn't catch her instructing the server to stick a candle in the thing. So when they're about to serve my cake and Grandpa's pie, all the unoccupied servers in the restaurant come up to our table in a procession and loudly start singing "Happy Birthday". It just so happened that the restaurant was full almost to capacity at the time.
My face was almost a perfect match for my burgundy-coloured lipstick. As my friends know, I hate drawing attention like that unless I'm doing something musical.
Other than that, though, it was a good evening. I don't get to see my grandparents half as often as I would like; they have an apartment in town, but though they often come down for weekends we're usually all too busy to meet. As I barely knew my mother's parents (Grandma Coba died nearly two and a half years before I was born and Papa Ben died when I was fourteen), it makes me somewhat greedy for time spent with my father's.
There's probably something deeply psychological in that, but at the moment I'm not going to try to figure out what it is.
Anyway, the pipe band had a fairly successful ceilidh last night, stretching into the (very) wee hours of this morning. I actually stayed for the whole thing, despite the fact that the hall was a ten-minute drive from my house; but then, I had no choice. The Phats were to play after the Schryer/O'Gorman band was finished their last set. (Reportedly they liked both the pipe band's performance and the Phats' short set.) The pipe corps played "Steam Train to Mallaig" in our second set, and for the first time in about a year it actually wasn't bad. But then, we've been practicing it; our PM finally got the message that if we want to play ceilidh stuff like that, we'd better practice it a few times or it won't meet the standards that we have for the competition stuff and the street tunes that we've polished practically since we started playing.
Yesterday was a long day, though. We had a power practice that morning (10:00 AM to 2:00 PM). Then the Phats had to go to the hall to set up the sound gear and do sound checks; Roger and Dave went ahead at about noon, and Colin joined them there. (Dave and Roger are both tenor drummers; we don't usually go without them, but it can be done. Fortunately, our old bass drummer came back about a month ago; Dave used to play bass, which would likely have kept him at the practice until the end, thus setting back the setup by two hours or more.) Kyle and I had to wait until the practice was done, as he's the pipe sergeant and I'm part of the pipe corps. He was supposed to get a ride up with me, and so put his gear in the trunk of my dad's car, but then he ended up getting a ride up with someone else who was leaving sooner and who didn't know where the hall was.
I brought his pipes up to the hall just before my dad brought me home (my mom's car is still at the mechanic's, and I'll rant about that later). Apparently this was good, as he'd sort of forgotten that they were in my dad's trunk. *rolls eyes*
You'd think that he'd remember something that important--but then, he's forgotten his pipes before. Several times I've seen him exit the Legion after a Thursday night teaching practice only to reappear with a sheepish grin on his face, picking up his pipe case from where he left it beside the table.
Ah, well. =)
Anyway, about the car--it broke down the day before my birthday this year, and it was lucky that my mom and I had enough momentum to get around the corner at the nearest intersection and park in a vacant lot. On Tuesday it'll be three weeks that we've been without transportation of our own. I've had to depend on rides with Dad to be able to get anywhere--Kes, if you're reading this, that's why I've never gone to the movies with you and Eva yet as a birthday outing. (For that matter, it is even if you aren't reading this--but then, figures of speech aren't meant to be taken literally, are they? *grin*) It's been quite frustrating. Taxis are expensive out where I live, after all.
But enough grumbling. I'm getting tired, and it's time to go to sleep. =)
Anyway, so much for the lack of birthday humiliation...today my grandparents took me to the local Swiss Chalet as a belated birthday supper and Grandma insisted that I have a piece of cake for dessert. (This made me slightly suspicious, as she normally doesn't approve of such unhealthy desserts; usually when we have supper at my grandparents' house in Bruce Mines the dessert is something that's at least moderately more healthy than chocolate cheesecake, delicious as the said healthier dessert always is.) I didn't catch her instructing the server to stick a candle in the thing. So when they're about to serve my cake and Grandpa's pie, all the unoccupied servers in the restaurant come up to our table in a procession and loudly start singing "Happy Birthday". It just so happened that the restaurant was full almost to capacity at the time.
My face was almost a perfect match for my burgundy-coloured lipstick. As my friends know, I hate drawing attention like that unless I'm doing something musical.
Other than that, though, it was a good evening. I don't get to see my grandparents half as often as I would like; they have an apartment in town, but though they often come down for weekends we're usually all too busy to meet. As I barely knew my mother's parents (Grandma Coba died nearly two and a half years before I was born and Papa Ben died when I was fourteen), it makes me somewhat greedy for time spent with my father's.
There's probably something deeply psychological in that, but at the moment I'm not going to try to figure out what it is.
Anyway, the pipe band had a fairly successful ceilidh last night, stretching into the (very) wee hours of this morning. I actually stayed for the whole thing, despite the fact that the hall was a ten-minute drive from my house; but then, I had no choice. The Phats were to play after the Schryer/O'Gorman band was finished their last set. (Reportedly they liked both the pipe band's performance and the Phats' short set.) The pipe corps played "Steam Train to Mallaig" in our second set, and for the first time in about a year it actually wasn't bad. But then, we've been practicing it; our PM finally got the message that if we want to play ceilidh stuff like that, we'd better practice it a few times or it won't meet the standards that we have for the competition stuff and the street tunes that we've polished practically since we started playing.
Yesterday was a long day, though. We had a power practice that morning (10:00 AM to 2:00 PM). Then the Phats had to go to the hall to set up the sound gear and do sound checks; Roger and Dave went ahead at about noon, and Colin joined them there. (Dave and Roger are both tenor drummers; we don't usually go without them, but it can be done. Fortunately, our old bass drummer came back about a month ago; Dave used to play bass, which would likely have kept him at the practice until the end, thus setting back the setup by two hours or more.) Kyle and I had to wait until the practice was done, as he's the pipe sergeant and I'm part of the pipe corps. He was supposed to get a ride up with me, and so put his gear in the trunk of my dad's car, but then he ended up getting a ride up with someone else who was leaving sooner and who didn't know where the hall was.
I brought his pipes up to the hall just before my dad brought me home (my mom's car is still at the mechanic's, and I'll rant about that later). Apparently this was good, as he'd sort of forgotten that they were in my dad's trunk. *rolls eyes*
You'd think that he'd remember something that important--but then, he's forgotten his pipes before. Several times I've seen him exit the Legion after a Thursday night teaching practice only to reappear with a sheepish grin on his face, picking up his pipe case from where he left it beside the table.
Ah, well. =)
Anyway, about the car--it broke down the day before my birthday this year, and it was lucky that my mom and I had enough momentum to get around the corner at the nearest intersection and park in a vacant lot. On Tuesday it'll be three weeks that we've been without transportation of our own. I've had to depend on rides with Dad to be able to get anywhere--Kes, if you're reading this, that's why I've never gone to the movies with you and Eva yet as a birthday outing. (For that matter, it is even if you aren't reading this--but then, figures of speech aren't meant to be taken literally, are they? *grin*) It's been quite frustrating. Taxis are expensive out where I live, after all.
But enough grumbling. I'm getting tired, and it's time to go to sleep. =)
