The heat finally broke for four or five days. The front brought good cool air and it is heavenly – if a male suffer may use that word.
The resident critters are frisky and happy with life.
The bad part is the grass needs mowing, again.
I’ve finally gotten the low notes somewhat under control on the woodwind. I turned the page on them and< Lo, ran nose first into the “Upper Register” stuff.
One should never be a student. Too many problems.
The big problem with the upper notes is they are strange to me, they don’t sound like they are right but try as I might, squawking and squeaking, as I do, the notes I think might be incorrect are the only ones that sound reasonably in turne.
I suppose I’ll continue along until along as is until some one tells me that’s horrible, absolutely horrible.
N.Y. Met, never fear.
From the reaches,