Today I wanted to go to a Quebecois jam at noon at a coffee shop on the east side, but I wanted to wear my muumuu to Mass and not the jam so we came home in between. (Also, that way I didn't have to bring my mandolin to Mass.) That was maybe not the right decision, since it was almost 12:30 by the time we got to the coffee shop, and I was famished and had to eat lunch before playing. A woman leading the jam saw me come in and brought me a packet of the music with a QR code for the website. I said, "Oh, I already know this website," and she said yes, the creator tries to keep it user-friendly, but personally that is not the description I would have used for this website. Somehow I ended up in the fiddle section and became best friends with the three women around me playing fiddle. OK, that's an exaggeration, but they were all so friendly. Also, to my shock, two of them had seen my band listed on the Make Music Madison website and had wanted to see us, but they were playing themselves at the same time, and the third one played with one of our fiddlers later yesterday evening at Folklore Village.
Travalon didn't stick around for the whole jam, but he did drive me there because he is a prince among men, so after the jam I said we could do whatever he wanted. He mentioned that the Brazilian drumming group was playing at Garver Mill, so we went there and watched a subset of the big group play, including one of my teachers and the guy who plays the little ukulele-like instrument in the other Brazilian band, and another student was one of the girls who danced to the drumming. The girls had elaborate costumes that didn't cover all that much of them, and Travalon enjoyed that. While that was in the air-conditioned comfort, the two bands we wanted to see next were outside, so we found a shady spot. The Forward Marching Band played first, and then Mama Digdown's Brass Junction plays New Orleans street jazz, stuff like "Iko Iko." Travalon really liked them too. I liked all of it.
It had been a day of a lot of music and very little exercise, so we thought we could escape the heat by swimming at Governor Nelson State Park. However, a sign said caution, there was E. Coli in the water, so we went to our health club instead. I was afraid the outdoor pool would be packed with kids, but it really wasn't too bad, and we were able to commandeer a small patch of the deep end to swim around in. Apparently it has been too long since I've been swimming, because twenty minutes of it and I felt like (and still feel like) my arms might fall off. Also, it felt like a lot of effort on my part, but my FitBit said only three minutes of it was moderate exercise, and none was vigorous. Why do my FitBit and I disagree so often? I will feel like I'm walking at my top speed for twenty minutes, and it will say four minutes of that was any effort, and then another day I'll be barely able to walk above a slow saunter and it will say vigorous exercise for the whole twenty minutes. It's a mystery. It bases it all on my heart rate, but why does my heart rate have so little to do with my lived experience?
Famous Hat
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