Dane Dance 2025

 

Today I worked from home, and at lunch I drove to Governor's Island and walked there. It seems a shame to drive more than necessary, but it's a wonderful walk, and that way I don't run into that crazy neighbor who stalked me back home. There were some partiers in Three Foot Bay, but the really loud music was off the front of the island, and when I was able to get to a spot where I could see the water, the source was Midnight Splash, the big party boat in our neighborhood. People can rent Midnight Splash, and I believe it's a house boat so they could stay on it all weekend.

In the evening Travalon and I went to the Monona Terrace for our first (and probably only) Dane Dance this year. We had some soul food (catfish, hush puppies, cole slaw, cheesy hash browns, and street corn) for dinner and a cornbread muffin for dessert. The first band was a Latin band, but the leader spent entirely too much time talking for my taste. Travalon said the colors of my hat and shirt went well together, so I asked him to take a photo.

It was a gorgeous night. Here we both are enjoying it. Travalon took this selfie.

The second band was a Motown cover band. The sun set, and the sky was pink.

Here's the same scene after darkness fell.

Here are the lights of the Monona Terrace.

Sitting on a roof under the lights, listening to music, made me think of a novel I never finished, one where the characters lived in St. Louis and Kansas City. It was my adolescent fever dream of what life as a sophisticated adult would be like, but I still wouldn't know, since I have yet to become a sophisticated adult. However, I do get to listen to music under lights on a rooftop, and I do get to go to St. Louis and Kansas City. I also thought of the novel I did finish, because Kathbert was able to salvage a couple of files of my poetry that Rich had, and so I asked if she could work her magic on the files from the novel. (Each chapter is its own file, and I shuddered at how pretentious their names were.) I remembered this novel as being atrocious, but I read a chapter in the middle of it and had some trouble remembering who was who in the cast of thousands, but I found it hilarious. Then I read the first chapter and found some of the cringier stuff. It's quite dated in some ways. Kathbert said maybe I could salvage the good stuff and write a leaner, better novel. What I need is an editor who could help me do that. Is any of it worth saving? That chapter in the middle is, but it can't stand alone. Also, the pace was frenetic. Reading this novel always puts me in a weird headspace, so I haven't done it in years. The only other person who ever read it was Hardingfele, and she said it was so weird that she couldn't put it down. Is that a positive review?

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Thirsty Thursday and Brazilian Music

 

Today I worked on campus, and I was hoping to walk with Hardingfele to ask her how the Ukrainian gig I couldn't attend went, but she had meetings all day. I did tell my one coworker the knock-knock joke I heard last night, and then we were talking to a third coworker, and when I told them about the play Anna in the Tropics, she said her grandpa was one of those readers in a cigar factory in Cuba. He came to this country, but when he went back to visit his family, Castro wanted to meet him and was sending a car around for him the next day, so that night he got on a plane back to the US and never went back again. I said there was hardly anything I loved more than Cuban music, except maybe Brazilian music... and then I got an email that tonight the bar samba band would be playing at Working Draft Brewery again. Yay!

Our condo association in the past would do Thirsty Thursday out on the dock, where people would bring their own drinks and maybe an appetizer or treat to share. Of course this happened more before the pandemic, when I had to work on campus every Thursday so never got home in time, since most people were retired early so they would start well before the end of my workday. The practice died off a bit after the pandemic, but they would try to do one or two a summer. This summer I was working from home every Thursday because of Travalon's work schedule, and I could have popped right over there just after five, but ironically we didn't have one until today, my first Thursday back on campus in months. By the time I got home, it had been going for an hour and a half, so I wasn't sure anyone would still be out there. However, I spotted this car parked at Mariner's and had to go take a photo:

So then I went out on the dock and found a few people left out there, and one had brought freshly made brownies. Somehow politics came up, and we were relieved to find out we all agreed on the subject. One woman also works on campus, and she said one day her husband took her to work in the boat. If we could do that too, it would cut so much time off my commute, but our little boat isn't fast enough to go across the lake like that.

When Travalon came home, we went to hear the Brazilian music. We ordered a sour beer, and look how beautiful it is!

It's based on a Blue Hawaiian, which is a drink Tiffy once got sick on in college so now she won't drink anything blue. However, this is green, a lovely Kelly green. And it is delicious!

There were tons of people at Working Draft, and I saw a few of my classmates from drum lessons, and also one of my teachers performing with this band. He doesn't usually perform with them, but after they finished the set, I was going to go talk to them but the equipment suddenly made terrible, loud, squealing feedback, so Travalon said, "Let's get out of here!" I may never know why that teacher was sitting in with this band, but it's all part of the greater Handphibian universe, so I'm not surprised there's crossover.

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Double-Booked on the Terrace

 

Today did not start out fortuitously. I was still sick and ended up having to change my clothes, but I couldn't stay home because today was the big welcome luncheon for the new grad students, and I had to bring the sparkling water I'd bought yesterday. Then Travalon couldn't find his sunglasses, but somehow he got me to work on time. I was wearing my favorite turquoise top that I always seem to spill food on, and sure enough, during lunch sauce dripped from my sandwich onto my top. I got it mostly cleaned up with soap and water, but the stains were still faintly visible. Luckily when I use stain remover before doing the laundry, they have always come out... so far. Because of the luncheon, I couldn't walk with Seabird at lunch, but she stopped by to get the key to her new office in my building (where she used to work), and we checked it out. It's a big shared office, and I found this smiley face in it.

Then we took a short walk outside. I spent most of the day working on a spreadsheet for a faculty member and was sick of looking at my computer screen by the time five o'clock rolled around. That's when things got really interesting.

The committee I was on to write a report on ageism at the university planned to get together to celebrate finishing the report, and somehow I was the one in charge of organizing it. I sent out a Doodle poll to see when people would be available to meet up at the Terrace, and today at six was the clear winner. Then I saw an email from someone saying she couldn't meet the rest of my Union peeps at 5:30 tonight on the Terrace, and I thought, "I never got that email!"... but it was in my Spam folder. So just after work I walked down to the Terrace and found Travalon, and then a couple of my Union peeps saw us and joined us. Pretty soon there were three tables' worth of Union people sitting around drinking beer and eating French fries, but I had to confess that I would have to cut out for another gathering. Then one of the committee members arrived early for the other gathering, so she joined the Union gathering for a little bit but then spotted "Dave," a guy she knew, so she went to join him. When a second person from the committee arrived, she, Travalon, and I went over to join the first committee member and Dave, who was not on the committee. Eventually the leader of the committee joined us too, but we never saw anyone else, even though quite a few people said they could make it tonight. Were they wandering the Terrace, looking for us and maybe meeting each other and having their own gathering? Or did they all just flake? Who knows? The leader said we should try it again sometime, but I'm thinking a more organic time for us to meet up might be when the final report is presented at the Staff Assembly. A lot of us have never seen each other in real life, so that was what I was most looking forward to. Also seeing a member who left partway through for another job, but that person never responded to emails. When it was just the first committee member, Dave, Travalon, and I, we had a very interesting conversation about travel and music and all sorts of things. It was Open Mic Night at the Terrace, and one guy signed up for a slot just to propose to his girlfriend, which got the biggest applause of the night. Another guy told knock-knock jokes. I had never heard this one before:

            Knock Knock!

            Who's there?

            Spell!

            Spell who?

            Double-u, aitch, oh.

(Or, as the Irish would say, haitch.) It's so dumb that it's just fabulous. I must tell it to my coworker tomorrow who is the king of dad jokes.

On the way home, we stopped at the Chocolate Shoppe so Travalon could get his limited edition Scotcharoo ice cream. They even had a poster about it on the door. I was going to get some too, but then I saw key lime flavor, which is also only around in the summer. Such a hard choice, but darn, that key lime ice cream was so tasty! Then we came home, and while doing DuoLingo, I ran my hands through my hair and messed it all up. I had my reading glasses on, and Travalon said, "You look so good right now!" So here's what Travalon thinks is sexy:

I think I look like a worn-out professor who has just finished grading a bunch of term papers. "I just cannot read one more essay about how hubris is the downfall of the archetypal hero! Does nobody have any fresh ideas anymore? Were these all written by AI? And why did this student write their paper in Comic Sans Serif? That is not a way to get anyone to take you seriously!" I am, of course, only imagining what a professor thinks about, since I'm a grad school dropout myself.

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Whatever Happened to Joey Banana?

 

This morning I still felt kind of off, but not as bad as yesterday. Fortunately I slept well last night, and it was my day to work from home anyway. Travalon didn't have to work today, so he walked with me at lunch on Governor's Island. That was about as exciting as my day got.

Travalon had a more exciting day. He had lunch at the bookstore in Watertown and then went to Oconomowoc. He fished but didn't catch anything. He met an old buddy to go swimming, and then they had a very late dinner. When he texted me that he was just leaving after dinner, I had already come home from Adoration and finished leading Night Prayer. I was a little short on steps, so I put on my high vis vest and went for a walk out in the dark. Now I am sitting on the porch, and a huge orange and brown moth is flying around outside. All day while I was working, hummingbirds came to our feeder. It was a good porch day.

Since I don't have anything else to say, I'll talk about my most popular written work, "Joey Banana." That's not the whole title, but offhand I can't remember what the whole title is, and anyway that's how people refer to it. I asked a couple of children years ago what I should write a story about, and one said multiple universes, and the other said a banana peel, so that was my inspiration. Joey keeps waking up and realizing he's in a parallel universe where bananas are round, where they live under water, etc., and then at one point all the Joeys converge. I think people just like the story because all the characters (including his brother Danny Banana) have Brooklyn accents. People would insist on doing dramatic readings of "Joey Banana" at Rich's house, and Tiffy's nieces, when they were little, said we should write a sequel where Joey goes to Banana Disney. That was a group effort, and my big contribution was that in the Enchanted Forest the birds don't sing, they play the saxophone. This story is old now; one of the little kids I originally wrote it for now has a little kid of her own. Maybe I should try to get it published. Which reminds me, the guy in Minneapolis who is so enamored of that choral work based on my poem "The Mystical Rose" sent me the sheet music he had prepared, and it looks great. Still, neither work will be the first thing of mine that was published, because I did have that article published in Guidepost magazine about our refrigerator. I even got paid! So no matter what happens with "Joey Banana" or "The Mystical Rose," I am a published author.

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Cathopalian Mass and the Scattering

 

Yesterday Travalon and I had big dreams of going to Irish Fest before the Cathopalian Mass at St. Josephat's, but while I had a free ticket, he could only have gotten in free with some canned goods if we had arrived before eleven, and ain't no way that was happening. I had a pounding headache and felt a bit nauseated, but we walked on Governor's Island, and that helped. By the time we went to Cecil Markovitch's place. I felt fine. There were too many people to fit in one car, so Travalon drove, and the Dairyman's Daughter came in our car. We got there before the other car, so we went to the gift shop, and I (shocker!) bought a rosary bracelet. Then we went up to the church, which is so beautiful.

The closing hymn was so gorgeous.

I thought these Masses were supposed to be quarterly, but we went to one late in January and then hadn't heard anything since. I asked Cecil if he had heard anything, but he hadn't either. (We both signed up for their email list.) Then finally they emailed about this Mass on Sunday. It was much better attended than the one in January. Travalon loves it because it's midafternoon, so we can have a relaxed morning.

After that the whole gang, plus some seminarian Cecil knows, went to Three Brothers Serbian Restaurant, where Tiffy met us. She and I had the spinach and cheese borek, which you can get three meals out of. Travalon had the chicken paprikash, which he said was almost as good as his Hungarian grandmother's recipe. When we got done with dinner, there was just time for Travalon and me to head over to Irish Fest to catch the Scattering, the big concert at the end with all the musicians together on stage.

People were leaving Irish Fest when we arrived, so we found an excellent free parking spot. I had my free ticket to get in, but at that hour they just let you in. I mentioned that my Irish teacher Famie would probably be there... and then she was four rows ahead of us! There were some empty seats right behind her, so we moved up to join her, one of her beginner students, and another girl who has been on the online conversation circle. The giant session played, and dancers danced, and there were songs for us to sing along to. It lasted about an hour and was so much fun. As we were leaving, we ran into an old coworker of mine from the Press who has a very Irish name and has always been into Irish everything. She was saying she no longer goes to the Summer School because in years past they had culture and history classes, but now everything is language or music, and she doesn't do music. She did mention the singing classes, and I said, "They still do those." I am thinking I should take one next year.

I didn't sleep at all well last night, and this morning as I pondered going into the office, I threw up twice, so I gave up and worked from home. It was not an exciting day for me, but Travalon didn't have to work, and he went fishing at Tenney Park and caught six fish. (He didn't keep any of them.) Here are four of them.

Probably because it was overcast all day and rained off and on. I never felt that much better and ended up skipping the big jam session at the music club. Oddly, I did have a very productive day at work. Here's hoping tomorrow I feel a little better.

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Mendota Monsoon Cruise

 

Today Travalon and I took Jilly Moose on a lunch cruise for her landmark birthday, which isn't until next month, but the cruises will end this month. My phone said there was a thunderstorm forecast for right during the cruise, and indeed, when we all gathered to get on the boat, there was thunder and a bit of lightning to the north. Someone said it would pass by us, but the horn at the Union that warns boats to get off the water sounded. Then Captain Rob arrived and said we should all get on the boat immediately because it was about to rain, but on the boat we wouldn't be rained on. Usually Travalon and I sit on the bow, but this time we sat inside the boat because of the lightning. One of the crew members took a photo of the three of us.

A couple sat across from us, and the woman was very friendly, so we struck up a conversation. When the storm seemed to have passed, all five of us went out and sat on the bow, and that was wonderful. Here are a couple of photos, of a mysterious contraption on the water and the Capitol building.

This was supposed to be a selfie with the Capitol, but where's the Capitol?

It was wonderful out there most of the time we were eating lunch, but suddenly a huge wind blew up, so I grabbed my lunch and ran back into the boat, advising the others to follow me. I didn't see this, but Travalon did - right after that, Jilly Moose's food got blown into the water. The others did come into the boat, and then the rain and the wind really picked up. I could tell Captain Rob wasn't 100% sure we'd be okay, which was the thing that frightened me most, and afterwards he did admit it was the craziest weather he'd had to run the cruise in. We did make it into port safely, and he said we could stay on the boat until the storm passed, so we chatted, and I was overjoyed to hear that (as I'd long hoped) he does plan to buy the two cruise boats and run one on Lake Wisconsin while keeping the other one here on Mendota. I sure hope this plan comes to fruition!

When the rain had subsided enough to get off the boat, Travalon, Jilly Moose, and I went to State Line Distillery for a drink. It was lovely out then, overcast and cool, so we sat outside enjoying alcoholic slushies or cocktails and admiring the surprising number of babies that were there with their Millennial parents. There was also an adorable dog named Milo who was very happy to make our acquaintance. Here is a photo of the design on the top of Jilly Moose's cocktail.

We were going to walk to Africa Fest from there, but it began to rain, so we went back to the car and got as far as the Willy Street Co-op, where we bought a few necessities and waited out the rain. Then we went to Leopold's for a coffee; I had my usual decaf iced pandan latte, since Travalon sometimes brings me one after work, and if I had caffeine at that hour, I'd never get to sleep. Jilly Moose was going to a book study, so we took her back to her car near the distillery and found a parking spot closer to Africa Fest. The rain seemed to be done by then, but it was very muddy in the park when we went to our favorite West African food vendor for baobab shakes and jollof rice. We found a spot to sit and eat our dinner while watching all the cute kids in traditional outfits. There was supposed to be a band starting soon, but they seemed to be hours behind in the schedule, probably because of the rain. There was a masquerade with crazy costumes, and one of our faculty members (from the Folklore section) was following them around, taking photos. I took a couple myself.

Sorry that these aren't better - they were moving around so much that it was hard to get a good photo. We also checked out the vendors, and I bought earrings and a hat - just what I need.

It's not like I don't already have tons of earrings and hats already. Notice that I am wearing an Africa Fest shirt, and I didn't cave and buy another one this year. Earlier this week I did buy an Irish Fest Summer School shirt - I will probably wear it tomorrow and will try to post a photo soon. Because another thing I don't need is any more T-shirts.

Thanks to Travalon for help coming up with the title of this blog post.

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One Last Fiddling Class

 

This morning I was going to work in the apartment for four hours, but we had to be out at eleven, and there was no way I'd be ready to work before seven. Instead, I worked from eight to ten and said I'd do the other two hours this afternoon. Famie went to her first dance class, and when I was done with work (mostly checking emails), I packed everything up and left. I was lugging my work laptop, my violin, and my purse, and of course this was the day I took a wrong turn after going to the Celtic Cultural Center for days, so I went a tiny bit out of my way before realizing my mistake. I still got to the Center in time to register for one last fiddling class. It was actually open to any instrument, to learn the music of the Sliabh Luachra area of Ireland. The teacher played the accordion, and we had three fiddles, one concertina, and one pipe player in the class. We learned three tunes, and some of the women (we were all women, except for the teacher, who was a rather attractive man) made sure to let everyone know what experts they were in Irish tunes, but I fumbled along trying to learn the new tunes, and it felt like the teacher was most impressed with me, because he knew I was actually learning them on the spot.

Famie and I grabbed a quick lunch and then had an easy drive home, chatting amiably, but we were surprised by the amount of traffic midday, even in the middle of nowhere. I logged back on and did two more hours of work, then when Travalon came home, we planned to go to Mass at the church two minutes away, since it seemed to be the only one having a late enough Mass for the Assumption to accommodate us working stiffs. However, when we got there, only a couple of other people were there, and we were all confused until one guy called and found out the Mass was at the church in a tiny town twenty minutes away, because this is a merged parish and we all misunderstood the code for which physical church the Mass would be at. Who knew SM meant St. Michael's, not St. Mary's? By then Mass would have been half over if we'd gone to the other church, and it would be half over by the time we got to the Spanish Mass across town. We looked frantically for other Masses, but the A-frame church we went to last weekend makes you log in to see their bulletins, and we don't have a login. I am really getting fed up with the Catholic Church. How can they demand we attend Mass and then make it impossible to get to if you work full-time? 

Here are some photos from this weekend. First is the rainbow we saw Tuesday night.

Here is the church that looks like a castle where the music lessons were held.

And the beautiful light patterns made by the morning sun shining through the stained glass.

The river was very high, and we could see flood damage.

Here is the board after we played Scrabble in Irish.

And this is a rainbow that was at Irish Fest last night.

I did do DuoLingo while at summer school, because how better to learn Irish than to do Spanish exercises? and I got this comment.

I don't know why Duo is wearing makeup, since he's always presented as male. I also got the monthly badge.

Now I'm back to the cold, harsh reality of not having a session to go to every day. How ever will I survive?

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The Grand Hooley

 

Today was my last day of classes at the Irish Fest Summer School. One person dropped out of the fiddling class yesterday, but the rest of us really enjoyed it, and I plan to stay in touch with a guy from the UP who plays in an Irish band up there. The lunchtime slow session was wonderful, and my Irish teacher was happy with how many tunes she could play. I had a cheese bagel that I bought at the Celtic Cultural Center (suggested donation: $2), and I still had half my sushi from dinner last night, so I wasn't planning to go out to lunch. Good thing, because the two ladies I have had lunch with the last couple of days wanted to play Scrabble in Irish. We didn't keep score, so in a sense we were all winners. 

My Irish teacher wanted to get gelato at the local chocolate shop at two, so one of the ladies and I walked over there, but she was just buying chocolate. My Irish teacher at summer school was there, so when my Irish teacher Famie arrived, the three of us sat together, and they chatted in Irish. I got a scoop of chocolate gelato and one of pistachio to replicate a Dubai chocolate. In Irish class, we read proverbs in Irish, then we joined the other half of the class led by our teacher's brother, upstairs in the music library. They were acting out some goofy scenario about drug dealing, and the brother said we were the three sisters Anne, Anna, and Anya, so one of the ladies decided we should be the three weird sisters from Shakespeare, cooking a potion, and we ended up making ice cream that they sold. Improv is crazy.

When class was done, the two ladies and I exchanged hugs and contact info, then Famie and I went back to the sushi restaurant because last night we were too full to try the desserts. We wanted to try the yuzu cheesecake and the matcha cheesecake, and they were both good, but we had to give it to the yuzu one because the citrus flavor went so well with the cheesecake. Back at the apartment I ate my leftover sushi, then we went to the Grand Hooley. In our student packets, we each got a ticket to go to Irish Fest for free tonight, and Thursday night is The Grand Hooley. (If you have any idea what that means, feel free to tell me.) Friday is The Gathering and Sunday is The Scattering, and I can't remember what they call Saturday, which is the main day. Not all of the festival is running yet, but some of the stages had acts, so we watched a trad band from Ireland, then we danced a circle dance, then we chatted with some other people from the summer school, and then we watched two dancing brothers who are internet sensations. The fish and chips is ridiculously expensive there, but it's also a ridiculous portion size, so we split one. We also got bottles of water and then refilled them, since you can't bring water bottles in but there are drinking fountains. We took a turn through the shopping area but didn't see anything compelling enough to buy, so we just headed back to the apartment. The bridges by the fairgrounds are lit up so beautifully at night.

My big decision is whether to take a brief class tomorrow. I'm supposed to work for four hours tomorrow morning, but we have to check out by 11, so I may end up working at Starbucks or just working a couple more hours after getting home tomorrow afternoon, so in that case I could take the class. It's some survey of Irish tunes.

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The Grand Irish Session

 

Today was another great day at Irish Fest Summer School. We worked on ornamenting jigs in the fiddle class, but I did feel bad because one woman who had been struggling to keep up just left in the middle of class. There was leftover pizza in the church where we were meeting, and they told us to help ourselves, so I had a slice. I knew a lot of the tunes at the lunchtime session and quickly picked up the ones I didn't know. Then the two ladies I ate lunch with yesterday actually came to find me, so we walked to a nearby restaurant and sat outside. I just had a bowl of wild rice clam chowder. In my Irish class, we debated whether men should be allowed to wear skirts and whether children under sixteen should be allowed to own smart phones, then we did an improv scene about buying a boat, and then we asked each other hypothetical questions to practice the conditional tense. My Irish teacher, the red-headed flute player, and I had dinner at a sushi restaurant, but we were too full to try the exotic cheesecakes they have for desserts.

The big event today was the Grand Irish Session. Apparently there was a session last night at a tavern called O'Donahue's, but it must have started at ten because the faculty concert went till 9:30. Today the session allegedly started at seven, but when we got there at about half past, there were a handful of our fellow students, so we had a sort of slow session. A couple of children joined us, a boy who was really good on the bodhran and a girl playing the fiddle. She suggested "Drowsy Maggie," and I started to play it, but nobody joined in because just then the really great fiddler from Ireland arrived. He started playing it at a breakneck speed that I could not keep up with, and the rest of the night was like that: lots of tunes I didn't know, but too fast for me to figure them out on the fly, and even the ones I did know, I could barely keep up. At one point I dumped the contents of my purse on the floor by accident, and the professional musician sitting next to me (who is actually from Italy) leaped in to help me. The real musicians are very nice and have no airs about them, but boy are they a level above me! I finally gave up on faking it and just listened. There were some dancers too. Just about the time Famie and I decided to call it a night, so did the real Irish fiddler, and then things quickly ended. Still, what a group, with flutes, whistles, fiddles, mandolins, banjos, guitars, and two hammer dulcimers. It was an incredible sound.

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First Day at Irish Fest Summer School

 

Today was my first day at Irish Fest summer school. My Irish teacher came very early in the morning to pick me up, and we drove to Wauwatosa, which has had some flooding. You may have heard about it; it was in the news. The Celtic Cultural Center was unaffected, so we were able to go to our classes. 

My first class was Intro to Irish Fiddling. I was afraid I'd be so rusty that everyone would mock me, but I did fine. We learned a couple of polkas by ear today. The music classes all seem to be in the big Lutheran church across the street that looks like a castle. When class got done, I came back to the Celtic Cultural Center and joined a session led by a flautist who I have seen perform with one of the local Baroque groups, so I had no idea he did Irish music too. By the time I got done with that, my Irish teacher and the red-headed flute player both had classes, so I invited myself along to lunch with two women who, as it turned out, were in my other class. We still had a lot of time until that class, so I took a rosary walk in the neighborhood, lugging my fiddle and my purse. 

The second class is Intermediate Irish, and I wasn't sure I was good enough for it. I was right about that, but we had a lot of fun, because the teacher had us do improv in Irish, first that we got pulled over for drunk driving, and the guy who was the cop was trying to determine which one of us was driving because we were all in the back seat. More fun was the one where I was a shopkeeper trying to sell a dress to a bride, and she said she wanted a purple dress with gold flowers. She didn't like the price I quoted and said she wanted a green and orange dress, so I said I had a green dress with orange dolphins on it. Her "fiance" was skeptical, so I said it was perfect for a seaside wedding, and he said, "What if it rains?" so I offered to throw in a matching umbrella. The Irish teacher had to help me a lot with all those words, but he gave me kudos for creativity.

After classes, I met up with my Irish teacher and the red-headed flute player to go to the apartment we'll be staying in, except not the redhead because she has to get home to her dog. It's within walking distance, so we walked back toward the Celtic Cultural Center. A lot of the local restaurants were closed due to flooding, so a bunch of us ended up at a soup and sandwich shop I had gone to with Travalon previously. We had passed a gelato place, but it was closed by the time we got done with dinner, so my Irish teacher and I just went back to the apartment until the faculty concert at the Celtic Cultural Center. My fiddle teacher played, and so did my Irish teacher. (He played the bodhran, or drum.) There was going to be a session after that, but we were exhausted and just went back to the apartment, where I am blogging now. Maybe I will check in tomorrow too, or not, since there will be a big session tomorrow night. Stay tuned...

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Band Drama

 

Since I will be at the Irish Fest "band camp" for four days, I have to wear all four of my good bras those days. Today I dug up a painful underwire bra that at least makes me look decent in public to go work on campus. Nobody was around but my young coworker, so while in my office, I slipped out of it and tossed it over the back of a chair. Then our new department chair stopped by and chatted, and only after he left did I realize the bra was in his clear line of sight. Did he see it? Hopefully he didn't notice...

There is some band drama going on. Our leader thinks I go to the Irish session instead of band practice too often, and she's not happy that both our bass player and I are missing the Ukrainian picnic gig. In my case it's because we only learned about this last week, and I have longstanding plans on that day to go to an Anglican Rite Mass in Milwaukee, and then dinner at a Serbian restaurant. I don't know why our bass player can't make it, and when Hardingfele and I walked at lunch today, she said she was going to grill her about her absence. I couldn't seem to convince her that this would be a bad idea. Then someone contacted Hardingfele in the afternoon about playing a gig at a retirement home, but we'd need a caller. The caller we used for years is long dead, and we have never had really good luck finding another one. Hardingfele found some list that said our bass player is a caller, so she sent an email saying could we do this gig, and could the bass player be our caller. This led to a long email from the bass player about how we are not really a contra dance band but an English country dance band, and if she was calling for us we'd have to change our evil ways, plus she couldn't play bass. If we find another caller, she could lead us on the fiddle, and then we could be a real contra dance band. I emailed her privately and said she made a lot of sense, and what she is looking for is what we do at the Moldy Jam jams, and she said some of them do play for contra dances. Why we couldn't memorize our songs we've been playing for decades so we can just start playing whichever one is called out is beyond me, but I'm starting to understand why the bass player is frustrated and goes to the Irish sessions instead of band practice... and in fact why I do too. Some of us want to grow as musicians, and some people seem fine with the (pretty mediocre) status quo.

After work I changed the battery in my Snark tuner, and Travalon had gotten me a shoulder rest and set of replacement strings at the music store near his job, so I felt ready to go. As we drove to the health club to go swimming, I said I wondered if the violin is happy about all this activity around it, and it's thinking, "Yay! Finally I get some attention instead of the mandolin!" Travalon said he pictured the violin with a little cartoon smile. We swam outside, and now I feel very relaxed. There's so much to stress about, like will I drive my Irish teacher crazy, will I suck at Irish fiddling, will I be the worst one in the intermediate Irish class, but I've done what I can to prepare. There are also floods in Wauwatosa, which is where we are heading tomorrow, but the Irish Fest people said it isn't affecting where they are located. Complications for Travalon too, because one of the buddies he was going to hang out with while he's a temporary bachelor caught our cold at the wedding in Sheboygan, so they may not get to hang out. He will see another buddy, and Travalon never gets bored anyway - he always finds something to do. He'll be just fine.

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Walking Around the Ponds

 

This morning there was a huge thunderstorm right at the time we were going to leave for Mass, so we didn't go. I'm terrified of lightning, and Travalon is terrified of the road flooding and causing his car to need expensive repairs again, like what happened last summer. About an hour later the rain died down, so we met Tiffy for brunch at the Venezuelan restaurant. We told her to be careful going home, since there was bad flooding in Milwaukee last night. True story: Travalon was thinking of going to see Lynyrd Skynyrd at the State Fair last night, but he decided the ticket prices were too high when there were no original members, so we listened to classical guitars and lutes at a coffee house. This morning we found out the State Fair was shut down and the concert was canceled, so he totally made the right call.

The weather continued to improve, so we met Jilly Moose for a walk around Stricker Pond. We saw a family of sandhill cranes.

We saw a lone mallard.

And we saw a green heron in a tree.

We also met lots of friendly dogs. We then walked around Tiedemann's Pond, which had just as many friendly dogs, no interesting birds that we could see, but way more wildflowers. This is obedience plant.

This is common rue.

I took both of those with my phone. Travalon took some photos of hibiscus and lotus blossoms with his good camera.

He also took a photo of this "blossom" on the ground. I assume it fell off of some little girl's jewelry.

There was a creek we didn't remember seeing before.

By then we had just enough time to get to the big A-frame church on that side of town.

The music was better than at the parish we usually go to, but there isn't the same sense of joy. I wonder why that is? It was a lovely Mass, and the young priest chanted a lot of it, but the vibe is definitely that people are there out of a sense of duty. The people at our church seem happy to be there.

So that was our day. I skipped band practice, since they were practicing for a gig I can't attend next week, so I'll probably hear about that. Our leader thinks I go to the Irish sessions too often and that we should practice more often as a band rather than going to the sessions, but I feel like the sessions make us better musicians. And believe me, we all could use that!

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Daughter of Denni Birthday Pub Crawl 2025

 

This morning Tiffy got up and went to the Farmers' Market. I got up too, but I sat around in the house doing word game puzzles until Tiffy called. Travalon and I picked her up downtown, then we went to a sushi restaurant at Hilldale, since that is very close to the house of the Daughter of Denni, who was doing her annual bar crawl/bike ride for her birthday. However, after we had sushi and mochi, we texted the Daughter of Denni, and she was already somewhere else. So we went there... and by the time we got there, they were all just leaving. The owner of the house had a funky camera that took black-and-white photos, so she took a photo of Tiffy, Travalon, and me, and also of my feet by accident. I took a photo of the two photos, but it is not downloading from the Cloud. However, I do have some photos from Tiffy's trip. Here are a couple of mystical-looking mountains that it seems like you would climb to find enlightenment.

Those were both from Glacier National Park, where Travalon worked one summer when he was in college. He was delighted to see they still have the red "jammer" buses in the park.

The next spot for the pub crawl was Minocqua Brewing, which Travalon and I had been to for a Quebecois jam. Some of the group wanted to go outside, so I went with them, since it was very loud inside, but then it started to rain really hard so we gave up on this experiment. Back inside I talked to the Son-In-Law of Denni, the brother-in-law of the birthday girl, who is a classical guitarist. We had a good talk about music, and then he had to head out because he was playing tonight.

Our next stop was the Lone Girl on East Washington, not the one in Waunakee. Tiffy and I checked out an ice cream shop next door, but their flavors were all really weird, like peanut butter and jelly, so we weren't interested. It also had that very strong smell I associate with fake vanilla. Half the group sat outside at this stop, since it had ceased raining, but some of us stayed inside since it was hot and humid out. When the group was heading to the next spot, Tiffy, Travalon, and I walked down to the river, and we could hear music. We walked under the bridge and saw a woman playing viola on the other side of the bridge. She was really good, playing a solo Bach sonata. I took a photo, but again it's not loading to the cloud.

The next stop was the Baldwin Street Grill, a true dive bar. (However, as Travalon points out, it is the height of civility compared to the Moqua Dive Bar.) Tiffy and I were a bit "taverned out," so we took a walk in the neighborhood, then we collected Travalon and went to Cargo Coffee to hear the Son-In-Law of Denni. He played classical guitar, and so did another guy, and the other guy played lute with a guy who used to go to the Early Music Festival. We had thought about going to the Forward game, but the weather forecast was for storms right in the middle of the game, which never happened. But the music was wonderful, and a lot less expensive (free, but suggested $5 donation, which I did give). After that we went to check out the Baked Wings place on the corner of State and Johnson that has been preparing to open for over a year. It finally is open, and we had some wings. They were very tasty.

Oh looky here, my photos finally downloaded from the Cloud. First, here are the black-and-white photos taken with the funky camera.

The Son-In-Law of Denni laughed about the bottom photo because the lines from the vinyl panels on the house make it look like a suspect line-up photo, and he said the photo of my feet was very good. I just think it's hilarious - it was an accident - but maybe it truly is my best side.

Here is a photo of the viola player.

If she was playing for tips, we were too far away to tell. The resonance under the bridge really amplified her music. We did applaud when she finished a movement, and she seemed appreciative. Lots of people walk or bike along the path she was on, so maybe she was hoping to get an audience. I would have kept listening, but the others were expecting us at the next stop on the pub crawl.

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