Stacy Horn

“In these days of political, personal, and economic disintegration, music is not a luxury, it’s a necessity; not simply because it is therapeutic, nor because it is the universal language, but because it is the persistent focus of our intelligence, aspiration, and goodwill.” -Robert Shaw

Last night was our first holiday concert performance, (the Choral Society of Grace Church) and this afternoon is our second and last. SOB. But we start up again in January.

We’re pretty much sold out, but they always hold aside a few tickets to sell at the door. If you’re in the city and looking for something to do, the concert is at 3pm, Grace Church, 10th Street and Broadway (but get there early if you want to get a ticket and a decent seat).

I took this on the way back from choir practice.

But I love walking past all the trees that are for sale, and getting a great whiff of pine. Friends of mine have a holiday party every Christmas Eve, and the Romp family (who sell trees at Jane Street and Hudson, pictured here) always come by to provide instrumental accompaniment. Thank you Romp family and Spiecher sisters!

They are now seven months old and here they are, sleeping on my lap. I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to try to take the boys and bring this curl-fest to the couch.

People are starting to put up decorations. Soon I will take my stroll uptown, taking pictures of all the holidays windows in the stores. Barney’s usually has the best, followed by and sometimes tied by Bergdorf’s. I’m also drawn to the windows at Tiffany’s, which have the back-in-time feel I love. They make me think of the movie (and book) Peter Pan, for some reason. Why, I wonder.

My book about Blackwell’s Island is coming out in six months!! I’ve been updating my blog accordingly (see the cover and link over on the right). It’s such an exciting and terrifying time. What will people think?? Am I going to get crushed, or will my book become a runaway bestseller?? Since I am both a pessimist and an optimist, I will probably be going back and forth, torturing myself, every day up until my pub date.

Bodhi and Bali, who are still small enough to fit on my lap together, are six months old, although in two weeks they will go up to seven. That’s Bali in the foreground, looking very annoyed. He’s actually ever so slightly more easy-going than Bodhi, who is a Tasmanian Devil. But neither of them will let me sleep in the morning, so even on my days off I’m getting up at 5am.

Thanks a heap, boys. No, really, I love you. But seriously. One more hour, for crying out loud.