Stacy Horn

Although the most magnificent magnolia tree, the one in the yard at Grace Church, is not blooming yet. The ones below were in Union Square. Glorious, isn’t it? That’s New York City, folks.

It was so nice to get out of the house yesterday. We had the soloists and a few members from the orchestra joining us last night. Everyone was amazing, but I have to say something about the countertenor, Christopher Ainslie. Normally, I find countertenors a little jarring, but Christopher Ainslie had one of the most stunningly beautiful voices, I was mesmerized. Everyone was. My friends sitting behind me hit my chair afterwards so we could all gush about him. He’s going to be famous. Plus he’s gorgeous. Always helps. Seriously though, remember that name. Someone make a movie that requires a countertenor in the starring role and put him in it.

Also, last night the oboe player gave us a mini-talk about the oboe d’amore, the oboe of love. Then she played a snippet from Ravel’s Bolero and we all recognized the sound immediately. Isn’t it great that there’s an instrument called the oboe of love? What can I name similarly? The cats! From now on, whenever I come home I’m going to call out, “I missed you, my cats d’amore!”

The window washers have just left and the place is enough put back together for pictures …

The color is fine. I don’t love it, but it’s fine. I think my life is going to be one long quest of trying to get just the right yellow and always failing. I realized the darker yellow, which I never liked, worked well because it was intense. This color is too mild. Also, the yellow matches the yellow in the carpet, which gives an overall effect of too much yellow. But since there’s nothing to be done about that now I’m going to try to stop noticing. I think a dark green ceiling might fix both problems, but unless someone volunteers to do that for me, that’s not happening. The landlord certainly isn’t about to send his guys back out because I decided I’m not happy with the color of the ceiling.

None of the pictures I took quite captures it, but the yellow in the section to the left in this photograph is close. But it’s lighter and milder than this picture indicates. The section on the right has nothing to do with reality. Another view follows.

Oh. In this shot it looks like it’s the same color it was before! But it’s a lighter and happier color now, so I’m glad about that. In the end, the place looks fresh and clean, and no longer dreary, so I’m happy. Mostly. FYI: the colors are Benjamin Moore Golden Honey, with Misted Fern on the trim and windows.

Painting in the living room has begun. I don’t see how they can possibly finish in a day though. It’s almost 4 and they haven’t finished the first coat, and then there’s the trim. No way.

The cats and I are hiding out in the bedroom. You can’t see the cats, they are on the bed to my left. This all the stuff from the living room that I could fit in here. I’m trying not to think about how long it’s going to take me to put it all back together.

The workmen are supposed to return today to paint. Will they show? If they do, I hope they don’t scream when they see me. I’m pretty horrifying looking. And, if they show, I am hoping against hope that they can finish this room in a day. It’s rather large, but it’s still only one room.

In the meantime, here are some nicer faces to look at. Oh god, I can’t wait until I can smile again freely for pictures.

One of us is has a mouth full of stitches, is swollen and Frankenstein-like and therefore afraid to look in a mirror. Two of us are riding on the other’s must-rest-all-day coattails and demanding their share of soft food treats. But the surgery went well. I’ve gotten two different time-frames for when I can start work on the bridge though. I must be done by the end of June!