Notes from this weekend:
I became a member of the Harmonica Army. We attempted to beat the world record of the number of people playing the harmonica at one time. Didn't quite make the 1800. But next time will be different. If my fellow harmonica enthusiasts and I have anything to do with it. Seriously, we summoned the Bad Brad Wheeler (KRCL DJ who started the whole thing) over afterwards to discuss how much better a turn out there would be if it was held in SLC rather than Ogden. Fun nonetheless. Our personal army of super cool girls jumped up on the platform in front of us and boogied to our hearts content for the 5 minute playing of When the Saints Go Marching In. With our own little harmonica stylings to jazz it up of course. It was good times.
As was breakfast with Mama and Papa Reynolds. Seriously, Sally has possibly the coolest family next to my own. In the top 10 for sure. They got all stoked about our plans for a Princess Party for the little girls (however I think the big girls may be more excited, my nieces are just an excuse for having princess parties, watching Barbie's Fairytopia, playing Strawberry Shortcake DDR, and oh, the Littlest Pet Shop fun). Papa Reynolds volunteered to visit as the King making a royal proclamation, and Mama Reynolds started scheming up Princess skirts and pointed hats. Not to mention, when we were talking about my Mother for some obvious reason (who doesn't want to talk about her?) she remarked that she sounds darling. As she is.
We attended Music and the Spoken Word yesterday with this great baritone from Wales. The MoTab gifted him a quilted version of the Welsh flag. Seriously, where else is that going to happen? The quilt was beautiful by the way. As we left, a women behind me was complaining how every time they go to Music and the Spoken Work (I typed MSW but it just looks to me like a masters in social work)they have this baritone from some strange state singing these songs she doesn't know, and why cant they just sing normal hymns for once. Wales is a country dear. And they were singing Handel's Elijah. And it was wondrous.
That evening we went to a Celtic concert at the Magdalene Cathedral. I was a little scared of the potential scary statues of saints, but the statues were few and pretty mild. I fared pretty well. And the concert was lovely despite my growing migraine.
Afterwards, the friend Mark treated me to a great work over of my neck and upper back. Note to self: Making friends with big burly strong and nice massage therapists is a worthy investment. He's a smart guy.