I have been quite busy in the garden and it is starting to look like something. Yesterday my corn plants gave evidence that they were sprouting, which is encouraging; soon I can plant the green beans and butternut squash. The pickling cucumbers that Maggie started in little covered plastic seedling trays are showing their second set of leaves, so it's time to plant those also. I've bought some bamboo poles about 2,5 metres tall, and will construct a trellis for them to climb along the entire back wall, so as to save ground space in the garden for other plants. I've thinned out the beets, snow peas, and carrots, and we've already had a first harvest of rhubarb. The chickens are now making almost two eggs a day, but so far it seems to still be the brown ones laying. I may have to build a larger box for the two Sussex hens to have enough space to comfortably nest.
improvised cages to stop the chickens from eating the blueberry blossoms
corn plants - nine days from planting to first shoots visible
bamboo and wire trellises for cucumbers
snow peas
cucumbers
egg time
barberry and lilac
We rotated the metal garden pavillion around so that the long dimension is parallel with the long side of the garden, which also means the dining table is more level on the slightly uneven lawn. I spent some time with a metal drill and threaded rod, improvising some bolts of various lengths to try to return the pavillion to some solidity; it blew over during the extreme wind storms of February, and some of the joints were bent or damaged, so it needed some serious MacGyvering to make it safe again. As it has been warm and sunny we have appreciated the shade, and given the fact that all of our neighbours are spending time in their gardens, we also like the bit of privacy it gives. On Sunday I used extension cables to put our internet router out in the garden, and we had just enough ethernet cable to set up a computer and shared Sunday dinner with Malcolm and Antoine in Boom by video conference.
The strain of this continued online learning is starting to be felt by the kids, and also by the teachers. Maggie for example is used to teaching in four different classrooms, and usually racks up around 7-10 kilometres of walking in the course of a day. Instead she is stuck at our dining room table from around 8am until dinner time, and she's getting a little squirrely from not being able to move around. Fortunately for her there are intermittent moments to go into the garden, but when she doesn't have actually classes she is busy with marking, which is much more difficult and tiring to do on a computer screen than on a paper test. Right now she is taking the dog for a short walk, to get away from the computer.
The teaching that she is doing by teleconference is also quite complicated, and frustrating... to illustrate, imagine helping a young child with a relatively simple task like tying their shoes. It's the kind of thing that requires immediate feedback and repetition, but it's something that you could show a child very quickly in person. Now imagine trying to explain that whole process verbally, without a physical reference, over video, with a time lag, to a group of fifteen to twenty kids, and you'll have an idea how tasks that would be accomplished fairly easily in a class can take many times longer to achieve in an online group.
But on the bright side, Maggie still has work, which means that we are okay for the moment financially. For my part, I have been having a little bit of success with three of my voice students. These are the ones with whom I was able to establish a good rapport before the confinement started, and they seem to be energised and cheered up by singing. But the others are younger, and don't seem to be up to lessons over video. They are also likely feeling overwhelmed with their school work, and I know that all of them are missing the social interaction with their friends most of all.
As for Duncan, he's also missing his friends from school and karate, and especially his best friend Arthur. We are all looking forward to Duncan's 17th birthday on Thursday, even if he can't have people over, and we can't go out to a nice dinner or movie, or even go drink a beer at a pub. The celebration will have to be a relatively low-key one, but he seems sanguine about it. I have already received the order for his birthday cake (chocolate pomegranate) and the dinner (steak frites with Caesar salad) so can start to assemble those ingredients.
On the musical side, I have been looking at the odd new piece, just out of curiosity, and have been learning to play some new things on the guitar. As well, playing scales and melodies on the piano for the warmup of my students is a challenge, and so I am getting in some practice that way.
I have also continued to receive requests to perform new musical projects in the season 2020-2021: at the moment there are ten concerts in the first half of the season, and five more scheduled for the spring of 2021. For example, I was asked to perform the Coffee Cantata of Bach by my friend Julius, the director of the Minimes group, on October 25th 2020, but had to say no, since that date coincides with the No Tenors Allowed concert with Bruce and Dina in the Stirling Theatre, in Ontario, just prior to my departure for Japan for the Matthauspassion with La Petite Bande. I did give Julius my regrets, but everything is still uncertain; maybe I won't be going to Canada in October after all? I have been in contact with both the Stirling Theatre manager, and the manager of La Petite Bande, and neither has cancelled yet, but it's hard to say what will happen until we get closer to the dates.
In the meantime another group asked me to sing the Coffee Cantata, this time at the end of September 2020, in Leuven, as part of a big agricultural festival; whether or not that will go forward is also anyone's guess. Theatre and opera planners are making contingencies for not reopening until September of 2021, but everyone is still waiting to see what will happen.
Speaking of travel for music, had it not been for the flight and concert cancellations, today I would have been in Toronto, rehearsing the Vaughan Williams with Jurgen. Bummer.
I received an interesting email from The School of Life, a London-based organisation co-founded by the philospher Alain de Botton. I have read his work with great interest for many years, and find the publications of the School to often be consoling and enlightening.
Today this is what I received: Five sayings from the Stoic philosophers about enduring hardship... one of the ones that stuck out for me was Marcus Aurelius:
‘Remember this - that there is a proper dignity and proportion to be observed in the performance of every act of life.’The article went on to comment: "Ultimately, whether we’re accomplishing supposedly ‘great’ deeds (writing novels, setting up businesses), or everyday ones (baking bread, cleaning kitchens) is unimportant. So long as we take pride in what we do, we can take pride in ourselves."
In the absence of "great works" like Bach and Beethoven and Vaughan Williams, I am sticking with the everyday things. The bread project is still ongoing: I had a great success with a rye starter that I got from Kiana, and today I am making a sourdough pumpernickel bread that uses coffee and chopped onions in the initial sponge rise! After rising slowly for a day I will mix in the rest of the flour and shape the loaves: I hope that they will be ready for baking this evening... bread making with sourdough is a matter of observation and experience: the aphorism is "watch the dough, not the clock" because rising times are often much longer and slower, and more affected by ambient temperatures than commercial yeast recipes. But the end product tastes completely different, and I am now a true believer in the sourdough technique.
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