This was a full weekend. On Friday night we went to a piano recital. The pianist and her husband* are both recently retired from being music professors at one of the UWisconsin campuses. He has started a local chorale group, and she is the accompanist; she is also a fabulous pianist in her own right. Their church — a tiny building in the woods with big presence in the the community — had recently received a donation that enabled it to purchase a gorgeous baby grand. The recital celebrated that acquisition, and the church was packed.
The first two sets of pieces were by Bach and Mozart, respectively; by the time she had finished them I swear she had played at least 150 gazillion notes, all at top speed. It made my hands ache just to watch. Later she played some Brahms that I liked and three Gershwin preludes, the second of which made Smokey and I turn to each other and say, Wow, I loved that.
Saturday was the annual dog walk, a major fundraiser for our humane society. Another woman and I staffed an information table. Good turnout, gorgeous weather. The latter is always iffy in late September.
After the dog walk I had to pick up a couple things at the grocery store. As I left I saw a homemade sign saying…
Sunday: quiet time. Process the photographs, write the blog post, collapse.
* She is also in one of my book groups and he used to be on the county board with me. Such is life in a small town.