A Chicken Soup Day

If yesterday was a Half-Way to Christmas Day, then I think I'm going to have to name today as well. It's a Chicken-Soup Day. Honestly, the end of June shouldn't be this cold. I was wearing woollen socks earlier, and am currently cuddled on my bed, wearing clothes which I distinctly remember wearing to orchestra practice... in February. The wind is strong, and the clouds are dense, and it just doesn't feel like it is summer in Alaska. In fact, it isn't summer. I think we went from a late spring to an early autumn, with a day or so that might be construed as summer.

The girls went to Halleymarie's house today, for quite a while, and so my parents were gone as well. That left Theophilus and I to finally buckle down to writing Thank-You notes from graduation. (We take a very proactive approach to such things, obviously!) Everything seemed to move slowly, but we got them done. When Mum and Dad got home with the girls, it was just plain cold.

That's when Mum decided to make chicken noodle soup. Hers is delicious. I was possessed by some strange notion to go outside. I rambled around for a bit, feeling chilled and dizzy, and it began to drizzle. It's not really rain, it's rather like someone left the faucet on and occasionally you get hit. Finally, I went back inside, feeling drained and exhausted. Mum asked me to go play piano, and so I sat down at the bench, not really certain of what to play. I knew that I ought to practice my pieces, but sometimes the pieces aren't right for the day and I can't bring myself to play them. (Unless I have someone else forcing me to play!) But I saw the nocturne by Grieg that I've been learning recently and decided to work on it. It was perfect for today. If you ever get the chance to hear it, you definitely should give it a serious listening. It is a beautiful thing, Nocturno, and it, according to my teacher, invokes the idea of birdsong in certain spots. Also, once we decided that it reminded us of a garden on a moonlight summer night, with birds.

I changed my mind as I played it today. It's a piece about quiet, drizzling days which are rather chilly when one expected warmth. It's not disappointed, though it does sound melancholy to some: it merely is reflective and peaceful. It's a piece about chicken-soup days.