Stanislav Pronin

Tonight we went to Northport, Michigan to see a violinist. Mark had gotten a tip at work that this violinist would be performing there. Northport is about an hour away, so I didn't think we'd actually end up going, but Mark was kind of set on it. For me...classical violins, well, hmm. They're okay. Kind of screechy sometimes. (Cape Breton fiddling is another story, though; I do have six of Natalie MacMaster's CDs.)

But anyway, we'd just put a few new plants in the ground and I realized it was getting late and Mark had probably forgotten about the violinist. Me being the good partner I am, I thought I'd better mention it, even if I wasn't too hip on going. "Oh!" Mark said. "Shoot! It's probably too late! It might have been at 6 or something!" It was 6:20 p.m.

I ran in and looked online. "8:00," I called out.

"If we leave at 7, we can make it," Mark said. I looked at the clock. Now it was 6:25.

I jumped in the shower while Mark watered all our new plants and even put in a few new ones. We zoomed up to Northport, having found out at the last minute through google that it actually takes an hour and 9 minutes to get there and having left, of course, five minutes later than planned...

but somehow, miraculously (or maybe because Mark drove at an uncharacteristic high rate of speed) we arrived in 45 minutes...10 to 8!... and were able to park, buy tickets, and get to our seats with time to spare.

Northport, Michigan is in the middle of nowhere. But somehow they have a community arts center that's rather nice! But let me repeat, middle of nowhere. The nearby towns do not exceed 1,000 people. TC, an hour away, is 14,000. Why they were having someone of the caliber of Stanislov Pronin is beyond me, but THEY DID. And WAS I GRATEFUL.

Okay, so let me tell you what happened. We sat down and this young guy came out...he was wearing black pants and a swirly black and tan and gold shirt...and he began to play. The music was sweet and plaintive, not too complicated at first, but rose and fell with such emotion...it was obvious from note one that we were in the hands of a master. I was transfixed.

He finished "Meditation from the opera "Thais," by Jules Massenet, and took the microphone to welcome us and explain a little about the next piece. He was so down-to-earth and personable. He then launched into "Ciaccona from Partita fro solo violin BMV I004," by J.S. Bach, quite a long piece...okay, and here is where I guess I have to be brutally honest and admit that I might have dozed off a little during this part. (But that's only because I got up reeeeeeeally early to see the marathoners coming by our house at 7 a.m. and wound up clapping for FOUR HOURS STRAIGHT because the half-marathoners, who had started up the peninsula, started coming by in the other direction just as the whole-marathoners starters were waning, and then the whole-marathoners started coming back and passing some of the half-marathoners...it just never ended! So I never got to go back to bed! So I was kind of sleepy.)

I was jolted awake at the end of the Bach by a resounding ending stroke on the violin...or had it been the tumultous applause of the audience? I wasn't sure. In any case, I was now fully alert for "La Gitana," by Fritz Kreisler, and the rest of the concert. Though I had missed perhaps a few moments of the Bach (okay, most of it), I had still been aware through my sleepy haze that this man was a GENIUS! And now I was treated to absolute proof of this fact.

This man is a genius, people. In all seriousness, I have never had such a reaction to a concert before. It was strange. After listening to him play eight more pieces and then an encore of Paganini, I wanted to weep. I don't know how to describe it; it wasn't any particular piece that was sad or moving, nor a specific passage that inspired a well-spring of emotion, but the entire experience itself...the utter musical genius of this person and the incredible gift that he had given. Tears actually welled up in my eyes and my whole body was just suffused with gratitude and appreciation and awe.

Wow.

Thanks, Stanislav.

The Recent Adventures of Maggie

We took a trip to Lansing weekend before last for Sam's graduation from Michigan State. After installing Maggie in the back seat with her premium-grade cushion, we went on our merry way. I was a bit dismayed to glance back sometime later and see the following:

"Hmm, well, I guess if they put me here..."

On the 14th, we had our first trip to the vet. He's Dr. Jerry Harrison, up in Lake Leelanau. A bit far, but worth the trip. Dr. Harrison gave Maggie a clean bill of health, though she has been snuffling quite a bit. "Reverse sneezing," this is called; nothing to worry about. Probably allergies.

Like mother, like dog-her.

On the way back home, we had a nice walk on the Leelanau Trail. Here's how it looks NOT covered with snow:

The cherry trees are starting to bloom! Everything is very pretty. It was so hot, though, that Maggie was overheating a little. We went from shade spot to shade spot (which, as you can see, were pretty far apart).

So a few days later, I thought it would be a good idea to get the canoe out and paddle around the rocky shoreline to the nice smooth stretch of sand that we enjoy walking on. The bay is high, and it's hard to navigate the rocks these days (it was easier when everything was frozen over).

Maggie was not a willing participant in this exercise...at least, not at first. She really didn't want to get in the canoe, but I, being the sensitive mother I am, made her. Once in the canoe, she was fine. In fact, she was quite a trooper! It turned out to be a bit windy, and the front of the canoe was bouncing around a bit...quite a bit on the way back, especially. One thing I'd forgotten to take into account was the direction of the wind. It was at our backs on the way over. On the way back, we found ourselves quite literally BUCKING the wind...there was no possibility of a leisurely j-stroke; it was paddle for all you were worth on one side, then the other, and you might make a few inches...finally, after twenty minutes of exertion, sloshing water all over, and the front of the canoe slapping wildly on the bay, we made it home. Maggie took it all in stride, but scrambled over the side as soon as we got close to the shore, instead of waiting for me to lift her out as she'd done before. Hmm...

I don't know if the Mags will be up for another canoeing adventure. We'll see.

Then last Sunday, we went hunting for that all-elusive forest delicacy: the morel mushroom. We discovered a beautiful place only 15 miles from TC: Sand Lakes Quiet Area. What a nice name, eh? You can already tell it's going to be a lovely experience.

So we looked and looked and found peace, sunshine, a few other campers, some fishermen, an impossibly high bench, and gorgeous lakes...but no mushrooms. Oh, well. Here's the bench:

Me, Debbie, and a bench too high for even an intrepid little dog to reach.

One of the lovely Sand Lakes.

Finally, just a few days ago, a landmark day occurred: FIRST DAY WITH TOES/PAWS IN WATER. Here's Maggie enjoying a little wade in the bay:


Just to show she's no wimp, she did indeed venture into the canoe again. This time I picked a better day. Sun, a little wind but not too much...no bucking this time! A peaceful time was had by all.

Returning home, I hauled my contraband Belizean mahogany deck chairs out of the rec room and we had our first nice sit-down of the season outside the house, looking at our tulips and the lovely bay.

Further adventures await, but that's all for now.

Way Past Due

Sorry guys, for being absent from the Pinky for so long. And it's not like I don't have something exciting to blog about!! So here is today's blog, which should have been entitled "What a Difference 14.5 Pounds Make," but instead is entitle Way Past Due on account of my tardy posting habits.

So without further ado...
meet my new bike, "The Gazelle!"

TWENTY POUNDS, people.

The Gazelle surveys her kingdom.

I have never in my whole life had a bike this light. My next-lightest bike would be Rosie, who weighs in at 30 pounds. THIRTY. And let's compare Miss Gazelle to my daily ride, my beloved Trek 520, pictured below:
After riding The Gazelle, who seems to pedal herself, I had to get out the scale again for the 520, since last time I weighed (without bags) she was more or less the same as Rosie...but now, with the addition of my kick-ass light set and perhaps a partially filled water bottle? she weighs in at THIRTY-FOUR AND A HALF POUNDS.

Okay, 34.5 pounds! vs 20 pounds! I'm beginning to get the picture here! And just the addition of one little bag with just my things to go to chorus brings the total up to 38.5 pounds, and tonight I had to bring TWO bags with a bunch of CDs and extra shoes...geez, who knows.

Anyway, in an unbelievable turn of events, it turns out I AM FAST. At least compared to what I am used to being. I can't tell you how fun it is to be fast! Hills...no problem! I rode 30 miles in less than two hours! This is unbelievable!

I also decided to do something I have been avoiding for 13 years: clip in. Yes, my old Shimano sandals that I removed the cleats from immediately upon purchasing them in 1996 were restored to their original glory, at least temporarily, to make the maiden voyage with The Gazelle.

But the Shimanos have been falling apart for several years, soles separating and rubber crumbling under my odor-eaters. I have been forced to admit that perhaps it is time for new sandals. Unfortunately, they just don't make 'em like these anymore:
...so I will be making due with some new Keens, which I just picked up today.

Honestly, they're not as good. But they're the next-best thing.

Here's to the old, and the new!