Keeping up on the news (10" of snow this weekend? Surprise!).
When a concert is in the works, everything else falls by the wayside. Friends know to not even ask me to do anything with them until after the performance. People tread very lightly around me. They know their request for information or even a friendly comment will more than likely be answered with something like, "The harp's not staying in tune and the D string is buzzing and it's driving me craaaaaazy...huh?" Or, "Should I program the first set with air, reel, jig or reel, air, jig or should I leave the jig to the second set...I'm sorry, did you say something?"
One-track mind. Hyper-focus. My "Songs of Ireland" concert is on March 12. And, right on time, I've been waking up with jigs and reels running through my head (and I haven't been dreaming about ice fishing). The band and I are in rehearsals and my fingers are boasting brand new callouses. Said jigs and reels require some tricky fingerings. Hornpipes are another story altogether.
But perhaps most neglected during concert prep is Harry.
When he sees the Irish music books start piling up on the floor, sees me furiously writing out parts for my band and erasing just as furiously, when he hears me hit the first chords on the harp, he starts giving me...
Have you ever seen anything so pitiful? Poor Harry. Because practice time is normally when I'd be on the couch reading or writing or working on my computer, and Harry takes that opportunity to stomp all over me and try to fit on my lap with the computer and butter me up with all the hairy love he can muster.
You'd think he'd be used to it by now. This is my 8th annual Irish concert in honor of St. Patrick's Day. Or maybe he's just guilting me into more treats, which he knows I stocked up on before the wild prep began...