Magical Montreal

Just back from a lovely Saturday and Sunday in Montreal, since Boopsie needed her winter clothes and they were all at my place. We did some shopping, watched New Moon with her roommates (and laughed and laughed), went out for lunch, all the usual fun things. It was extremely nice, and Boopsie and her roommates continue to be lovely young women.

ORYC's Friday concert went well, I think. Coventry Carol was especially good. We got one of those little "ahh" moments at the end of it, where the audience doesn't start clapping right away. That is how you can tell you've nailed a piece. I've also met a new favourite piece: Joubert's setting of There Is No Rose. It is insanely gorgeous and has a really interesting alto line. Check it out on Youtube, complete with a choir of wee Brits.

Don't know what work has in store this week. Last week was a little frustrating, but had some good moments, too. I guess that's all you can really ask for in a job: 1. humane working conditions; 2. material that interests you; 3. enough good moments to make it worthwhile. The job is not grand and world-changing so far, but then I am an incrementalist at heart; leading a popular uprising is quite outside my skill set, and revolutions are so messy.

I've finally set a doctor's appointment to discuss the arthritis I was diagnosed with in the summer. "Terrified" is a reasonable descriptor of my feelings toward this appointment. Some preliminary Google-fu suggests that my form of arthritis could be hallux limitus or hallux rigidus. If that is what I have, the nightmare scenario involves cutting out the entire ball joint of the foot and just sort of letting things flop around for the rest of your natural life. I understand this is more for geriatric patients, though, and so I hope and pray for a quick shot of cortisone to the foot and an "enjoy your running and capoeira, but choose better footwear in future" as I exit the outpatient clinic. God, I hope so.