The Deep Dank Tarn

The title is from a Poe favorite of mine –

“… there was a long tumultuous shouting sound like the voice of a thousand waters – and the deep and dank tarn at my feet closed sullenly and silently over the fragments of the House of Usher.”

Perhaps it’s a bit operatic for my particular case, but apt this week. It was one of those weeks during which you feel like there is a total pall cast over your whole vicinity. A lousy, miserable, do-nothing week. Being sick, I could barely do any of the Winter-readying work that I had been worrying over, and in addition, it rained all day every day. Grey, cold, work waiting to be done. You get the idea. However, today is a new day, and I’ve already finished insulating the cabin and taught a piano lesson. I’m heading out to finish skirting the RV in a few moments. I had also been a little afraid of still being sick this weekend, when I have to go out of town to play a show. 

esopWhich brings us to the Poe quote. Doubly appropriate. This Thursday, I’m headed to Philadelphia for the weekend. It’s really the neatest thing ever. (Pardon my emphatics – this is super cool.) I am going to one of my favorite cities to play a score I composed for a chamber musical about my favorite author in a super cool space (pictured) right on historic Rittenhouse Square. For a 19th Century literature and history buff, it’s a pretty big deal. And for this, I get paid. Awesome. If you’re coming late to this I-wrote-the-score-to-a-show thing, check out the show’s new blogsite.

000_1844The chickens are fine … or at least, fine enough. No major mishaps. Except the other evening, sick and groggy, I left the gate open for a few seconds while I was changing their water. Two of them wandered out. All I can say is, at least they know where their home is. Once again, a little following them with a gentle, ‘Go home, you chickens’ got the job done. I’m a little weirded-out about the fact that they choose to sleep all-four piled into one nest box like a bunch of feathered pillows, but these kind of problems generally work themselves out. 

Onward and upward!

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6 Comments

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6 responses to “The Deep Dank Tarn

  1. I am always in awe of people who can compose music – I can play piano, but if there’s no sheet music in front of my face, I got nuthin. Your show sounds wonderful!
    What a contrast you are – “Oh, I need to feed my chickens and lock the RV – before I go on the road to perform in the chamber musical I wrote.” Heh!

  2. The above picture came up in my reader and I said, “What the hell has he done to the cabin and how did he do that?”

  3. Alliedog

    Good luck with your show, sounds like something I would love! My daughter and I visited Poe’s home in Philly last summer.

  4. Break a leg! (Not literally, of course)

    We are having the same wet, gross, damp, cold, icky, depressing weather. It will be nice when this front passes and we get some sun again. I hope that happens before spring. ;P

    Can’t wait to hear about the show!

  5. I’m still sick here on this side of the hill, too. That really is a wonderful room you are doing that production in. I know,.. horrible grammar! haha… Safe traveling!

  6. Calista

    Maybe the chickens cuddle together for warmth?

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