Today has been a fairly representative day in my life, so here’s a glimpse.
Wake up, clean the kitchen, make coffee. I don’t always clean the kitchen in the morning, but I was too tired to deal with it last night.
I realize I’m still tired after 8 hours of sleep because I just spent two days in the recording studio singing Christmas carols with the Virginia Girls Choir (Project No. 1), and it’s only August. I think that will make anyone tired.
I start reading emails and am reminded to submit a tune list for Sunday night’s Lifeline at Park Avenue Christian in the city (project No. 2). Do I teach a new tune, or go over the last two new tunes and a couple of older tunes I don’t want them to forget? Hmm… thinking goes on, which I ignore while
I pour coffee and talk to a friend on the phone. While on phone, am reminded that I’m expecting a phone call from the West coast about next Saturday’s Community Music Making workshop (project No. 3) in Portola Valley, CA (wherever that is), somewhere near SF. At least I know one person who lives there, and that makes me happy.
Think about breakfast. Sounds good. More coffee first.
Forget about breakfast as I read new tunes in my email. The one person I know in Portola Valley is also working with me on project No. 4, a hymnal revision called (goes off to look up name of title, which I really must learn soon – ah) One Heart and One Song. It’s a revision of a hymnal called Music for Liturgy. 

Start to sort mail from the last three days, most of which is submissions for project No. 4, which had to wait until after I finished singing most of Christmas. I’ll have more Christmas in September, and I’ve already had Christmas arranging in May and Christmas recording in June (most days over 100 degrees). I prefer my Christmu-sez in December.
I find a few lovely new tunes, some dull things, and a few things that don’t fit the criteria at all for the hymnal revision. We’re looking for unaccompanied music for congregational use. That means no instruments, just three or four-part interesting things to sing. Think Sacred Harp, Sweet Honey, Georgian Singing, Sardinian pastoral singing, Hungarian Women. The links are cool, people. Imagine you showed up at church and it sounded like that. You’d be on a spiritual bender before you knew it.
I sing at my desk for a couple of hours and realize it’s time for a late lunch. No putting it off. It’s almost 2 PM, and I forgot breakfast. Time is an artificial construct, unless I start to get cranky. Then I know it’s time to eat.
More tune reading. Lots of fun. It’s good sight-reading practice. More correspondence. It’s funny how much correspondence I’ve had in the last week – the deadline for submissions must be in a few days. People have even been sending me their friend’s tunes, so I’ve even been getting in touch with people to make sure they’d like to submit their submission (Song alert: I just dropped in to see what condition your submission was in.).
I love my life.
Wake from my song stupor when the phone rings about 4:15. Lester McKenzie from project No. 3. We’ve never met. Seems nice. We find a good page and climb on, so now we’re on the same page. Great. Gonna have fun next week.
There was much more to my day, like writing a grocery list for the shopping trip that never was, sending Christmas carol files to Virginia, talking to another friend (whose helpful husband went wild with the weed-wacker and cut down her herb patch. O.M.G!), talked to my mom while looking for my sister Janet (who, it seems can’t stay in her bed while in the hospital): Me: “Where’s Janet?” Ma: “In the HOSpital.” No one can make you feel foolish like your mother, even when you’ve already called the freaking hospital and no one has answered Janet’s alleged phone. I told my mother about my friend and the herb patch debacle, and she just said ” That’s the Stupid Gene. They’ve all got it.” Me: “All of them?” Ma: “Every last one. If I’ve taught you anything, it’s that they all have it to a greater or lesser extent.” Me: Really? Ma: “Yep.” I called my friend back and told her what my mom had said about every man that ever was, and she laughed and said “She’s right. I’m hoping my son doesn’t have it, but it may be too much to hope for.” Who knew?
The women in my life make me laugh. A lot.
Try calling my sister again, who’s wandered back to her hospital bed and who sounds better today (Woo Hoo!). I decided to celebrate Christmas a little early and have a glass of wine, looked at the clock, and it was almost 7 PM. Never sent that tune list for Sunday (Project No. 2). Sh**!
The email men deliver a batch of tunes to look at. Print and read through. Look at the clock, it’s 8:30. Who knew?
Time to think about dinner…