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Firemen just came walking through my building. Apparently that annoying beeping I was hearing off in the distance was a smoke detector in another one of the condo units in this building. I'd think that if one went off they all would. Should I have had something telling me 'danger, danger' in my part of the building?
I felt a little self-conscious about the 2000+ Victrola and Edison records spread all across the kitchen floor, and the fact that I was still in my pyjamas at 7:30, but at the same time I'm sure they've seen everything in the course of their work. As to the provenance of the old recordings (and I'm not saying 'vinyl' because he assures me they're mostly Condensite and shellac) I'm sure Eor will want to post about this score/chore in great detail, so I'll leave it at ... we spent all day, yesterday, retrieving them from someone's barn an hour's drive away, and mice have been using their paper covers for housing material for generations. One wonders if they are now musically gifted mice. It was an adventure. When we first arrived at this lovely homestead from the 1700s (practically a thorp, with about a dozen buildings) and looked over the few boxes they had set out in the yard I played Spock to his Kirk and tried to give all the logical reasons he shouldn't do this. Did you ever notice Spock never wins these debates? Eor later characterized music which is being neglected as having the same pull on him that a stray cat would have on me - it needs to be taken care of, and he doesn't trust that someone else will do it. But as we were loading the van (with many, many more disks than we'd originally thought, because the boxes were just a small sampling) he said I'd forgotten one factor as I was giving my dissuading arguments: That this sort of thing, finding a dusty treasure trove in an old barn, is often the initial event in a ghost story. I said that not being logical it hadn't occurred to me, but now that he mentioned it I didn't want to think about it, and he laughed at me and said I had too much imagination to be Spock.
And now I've said much more than I'd intended. He's very excited, and has been throwing himself into learning all about how to clean these up and get them recorded into digital media, so hasn't had time to write about the whole thing, yet. I've teased him a little about being on a manic swing, because he always says he's bipolar, and he said maybe that really was the case because he's feeling pretty good with these steroids he's on for the poison ivy(or whatever).
Anyhow, that whole adventure happened the morning after I got home at half past midnight from ( Cousin P's party which unexpectedly went mobile. )
I was fine driving, but as soon as I walked in the door I wanted to fall asleep right on the kitchen counter.
I felt a little self-conscious about the 2000+ Victrola and Edison records spread all across the kitchen floor, and the fact that I was still in my pyjamas at 7:30, but at the same time I'm sure they've seen everything in the course of their work. As to the provenance of the old recordings (and I'm not saying 'vinyl' because he assures me they're mostly Condensite and shellac) I'm sure Eor will want to post about this score/chore in great detail, so I'll leave it at ... we spent all day, yesterday, retrieving them from someone's barn an hour's drive away, and mice have been using their paper covers for housing material for generations. One wonders if they are now musically gifted mice. It was an adventure. When we first arrived at this lovely homestead from the 1700s (practically a thorp, with about a dozen buildings) and looked over the few boxes they had set out in the yard I played Spock to his Kirk and tried to give all the logical reasons he shouldn't do this. Did you ever notice Spock never wins these debates? Eor later characterized music which is being neglected as having the same pull on him that a stray cat would have on me - it needs to be taken care of, and he doesn't trust that someone else will do it. But as we were loading the van (with many, many more disks than we'd originally thought, because the boxes were just a small sampling) he said I'd forgotten one factor as I was giving my dissuading arguments: That this sort of thing, finding a dusty treasure trove in an old barn, is often the initial event in a ghost story. I said that not being logical it hadn't occurred to me, but now that he mentioned it I didn't want to think about it, and he laughed at me and said I had too much imagination to be Spock.
And now I've said much more than I'd intended. He's very excited, and has been throwing himself into learning all about how to clean these up and get them recorded into digital media, so hasn't had time to write about the whole thing, yet. I've teased him a little about being on a manic swing, because he always says he's bipolar, and he said maybe that really was the case because he's feeling pretty good with these steroids he's on for the poison ivy(or whatever).
Anyhow, that whole adventure happened the morning after I got home at half past midnight from ( Cousin P's party which unexpectedly went mobile. )
I was fine driving, but as soon as I walked in the door I wanted to fall asleep right on the kitchen counter.