Tuesday, May 6, 2008
The Wells Report #2
Ok, who was a silly girl and forgot the wire that allows her to transfer photos from her camera to her computer? So, no pics of Wells until I get back home, grrrrr. (Except this one above which I found on the internet.) You'll just have to take my word for it- it's beautiful and it's small. Very, very small. Every morning so far I puff and hack my way up the small but steep hill that separates the 2 parts of town and I appreciate the fresh mountain air (We're 4100 feet above sea level here, not 2100 as I may have said last time). I've been running every day- take that, Jonathan! I will dominate you in the Most-Healthy competition!
First music rehearsal today... not as bad as I feared, thank goodness. Problem is, I should have had all the music weeks ago so I could arrange it before I got up here. But as it is, I am arranging on the fly, hastily cobbling things together in the morning while they do script work and then teaching it in the afternoons; not ideal. But it was good to get started today so I don't have to feel the apprehension that comes with waiting-to-begin.
Well, our Pan-abode house is starting to feel-and smell-like home. The water here is so full of minerals I'll probably become Iron Man by the time I leave. I am already heartily sick of the clothes I brought up here, but there's nothing to do about that- no clothes to be had in this town! The snow (which locals say is not usually present so late in the spring) is melting steadily off our roof, creating a Niagara Falls gauntlet to be run every time we enter or exit the house. I watch for bears as I run in the mornings, but so far, thanks to that snow, they haven't made an appearance. I rented a movie from the service station/post office/liquor store/video outlet and asked the clerk if I needed to show ID to rent it. "Um, not really," she said. "When's it due back?" I asked. "Um, in one or two days, whenever," she replied.
Sometimes small towns are way more civilized than big cities!
I look at pictures of Mexico on my laptop and marvel that I was there a month ago; it seems inconceivable that I got from turquoise seas to 10-foot snowdrifts in less than 30 days. A breathless email from Amelia in Istanbul laves me struggling against jealously: she's there and I'm here, but what's the use? I'm not on her path and I don't want to be, although a little more exotic traveling would be fabulous. All in good time I guess. At least this gig has turned alright so far...