Spent 2 hours at choir practice. I have missed a lot of practices this year so I was glad it was extra long this session. The director is so engaged in the music and it's perfection that it completely focuses my energy. I've been a scattered recently and have missed that certain kind of nourishment that can only come being fully engaged in art or music. I love to sing, even though I feel like I'm screetching and warbeling my way up to some of those high F's & G's. When I was done, I sleepily laid down in front of the fireplace with my kids and drank hot milk. This made going outside into the bleak November cold less attractive. Nonetheless by 10:00 I took the dogs out, who were so overjoyed they wouldn't stop barking and running ahead for about 1/4 mile. Down the trail I bumped into Mike Strauss, smiling and running with the perpetual spring in his step. He always makes running look like the funnest, easiest thing to do in the world. He'd cut his hair since the last time I saw him. Catherine will be very interested in this new development -- as will be all the women within a 10 mile radius. (We all call him Zeus and/or Sampson behind his back). His hair has been long for the 7-8 years I've known him. It must be exciting to make that kind of dramatic change. I guess I did the same thing when I went from blond to brunette recently. What's it with the middle aged hair crises? Our personal relationship to hair (how it looks, how long it is, what color it is) is kind of weird when you think about it. It's always a declaration of some sort when we change it. I guess once you get to the middle of your life, it's one of the few things you can actually change (new perspective and a fresh start) without major reprecussions or consequences. | 