Friday 6th November - It's harder than it sounds. Or Looks.

I'm wrestling with this as the moment.

well, not the original manuscript; not even a nice copy in a book. I've downloaded it from an "out-of-copyright" sheet music site.

I'm learning the slow movement in my harpsichord lessons, at such a slow speed that even a tortoise would struggle to keep in time.

Oh, didn't I mention that I'd become the proud possessor of a digital harpsichord? Digital, because the real thing would take up the WHOLE of the dining room and needs constant "fettling" and tuning, whereas the digital version is the size of a small side-table and copes with changes in temperature and humidity without becoming all temperamental (that's an "in" joke).

When I turned up for my lesson, my teacher had been called away to another class, so I spent the hour practicing.

By the end of the hour I was able to place the first line - that's the bit before the tune starts - they way I wanted it. And it took the whole hour to achieve it.

Eventually, it might sound like this? Well, one can dream.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIhteTLwwqs

Keep listening; he does the Goldberg Variations next...

Thursday 5th November - Porridge and Computer Artificial Intelligence

The conversation this morning went something like this...

"The difficulty is in finding the right size cup to measure out the oats and the milk in order to get the right amount for my breakfast. The one I used was about right, but I had to fill it completely full of oats, so it got a bit tricky when it came to adding two and a half cups of milk without spilling it everywhere."

"Which you did you use?"

"The one with the diagonal edge"

"We don't have a cup with a diagonal edge."

"Yes we do."

From which description he was able to correctly identify which measuring jug I used:

After a moment, the conversation turned to how far computer recognition software has to go before it can interpret your average domestic conversation.

This all came back to be this evening when we were discussing the roast carrots (which were delicious) at suppertime:

"They're a bit overdone - I always find it hard to judge how long they take to cook."

"I usually find they take longer than I expect, except when they take less time."

"yeah"...  

I think it is because real conversations are full of half-sentences, grammatical errors, weird descriptions, stray references to other things. Once we get these computers going, we'll all have to have artificial conversations carefully constructed so that the computer can understand them.

I wonder what kind of poetry and literature computers will generate in years to come?

For me, perfect microwave porridge is 75ml oats, 140 ml water, 220 ml milk. Microwave on high for 2 mins, stir, micro on high again 1 min, tip it into the bowl and wait for it to cool enough to eat.

Current packet is "Rude Health Fruity Date Porridge".

Wednesday 4th November - Numbers, Passwords

As I parked at the school I teach at on Wednesdays, I delved in my memory for the numerical code for the front door... oh yes, that's it...

Which set me thinking - how many passwords, numbers, pin codes, telephone numbers, addresses do I know by heart?

I didn't have time to count them, and anyway, I'd have to write them all down to keep track, which would defeat the purpose of keeping them secret.

The list includes the number plates of my first and current cars, one of the cars my mother used to drive when I was a child, the telephone number of one of the houses I grew up in, the house we lived in when I was a teenager (but in a foreign language as the local taxi drivers didn't always speak English),

and so on and so on and so on...

I'm not sure how you go about forgetting some of these numbers... and I'm having increasing difficulty in remembering new ones.

Tuesday 3rd November - Talking about pianos

http://shafferpianos.com/harling/

I used to teach someone who had a piano similar to this one. Her mother thought it was "a lovely piece of furniture", which is true. It was lovingly cared for, and had pleated red silk showing through the fretted front panels and candle holders, with candles in them which they lit at Christmas.
Apparently this one dates from 1850. I'd guess hers was about 50-75 years later, with much less decorative carving.

But it was a rubbish piano, in terms of playing rather than looking at it. A piano is a mechanical contraption, when all is said and done, and mechanical contraptions do wear out. We got as far as beginning Chopin and Beethoven, and then the beautiful piece of furniture's shortcomings as a musical instrument became all too clear. I guess it could have been restored, maybe? For a price? New soundboard, new tuning pins, restringing, sorting out the action? Would have cost a lot.

What has provoked this post? Talking to a number of parents about what they need to have in order for their child to start piano lessons. Namely, A PIANO. (Or a "digital" or "stage" piano). A keyboard is NOT the same thing at all.

Rant over.

Breathe. Pour the second sherry. Relax.
 .

 

Monday 2nd November - Reboot-Reload-Restart

Over half-term my car went to the garage to get the rear wiper sorted out (loose connection - fixed in minutes - no charge - thanks!)

That meant unloading my car so that the mechanic would have half a chance of getting at whatever he needed to get to.

I haven't seen my car look so tidy since the day I bought it:

I got everything ready in the hall to put back into the car ready for teaching. That kind husband of mine drove off to buy me a sack-trolley. It's there, with a red plastic crate and a couple of bungee cords at the back.

And in it all went... djembe (in a black padded case), repinique (in the blue bag), red plastic crate, Roland small guitar amp (in the white cloth bag) brand-new lightweight and extremely useful folding sack-trolley. There's also the white plastic crate of car bits and pieces - spare bulbs, first aid kit, instruction manual, tyre-weld canister, yellow hi-viz jacket, but you can't see it behind the djembe.

Front seat: blue bag for choir and ukulele on Monday evenings, pink bag for everyrthing, purple handbag for everything else.

 



Back seats: two bags of boomwhackers (I'm not using them very much, but until the shed gets built there's nowhere else to keep them - oh, hang on, I think he has other plans for the shed...) orange bag with 5 dinky little xylophones, bag with travel rug, bag full of bags of instruments (tambourines, claves, shakers, etc)

 

And off to work I went. Tomorrow I will add a lap-top, but remove the blue Monday evening bag.

That sack trolley was brilliant - the djembe weighs about 6 kilos, and wheeling it in to school (carrying the guitar amp and the purple hand bag and hoping that I didn't need anything out of the pink bag which I left in the car) made a huge difference.

Likewise, loading up the red crate with the blue choir/ukulele bag, guitar amp and pink bag and dragging it across the car park was so much easier than draping everything across my shoulders and plodding like an over-laden donkey....

Somehow I've managed to put everything in so that nothing rattles. I was getting tired of sounding as though I had a morris dancing team in the back of the car the whole time.

Sunday 1st November 2015 - November

"Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness".... dunno about the fruitfulness but it sure was misty all today.

Have you read the whole poem?

Here it is.... in facsimile... from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/To_Autumn






You can read the whole thing if you go to the Wikipedia page. And the meaning, themes, structure, and everything else.

There's nothing "fruitful" left in our garden. This year our harvest was mainly apples (now in the freezer) and chillis.

"Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?

Think not of them,..."

No, think not of the songs of Spring. It's going to be Christmas Carols for the rest of the year.