It's Been a Quiet Week at The Inn. . . . .

For a number of reasons.

Mostly, I haven't had much to say that was worth typing out.

And then there was that little incident with the modem. It's not really a modem, though. It's the wifi thingummy which acts like a modem used to but has another name which I can never remember. Well, it was refusing to connect me to you. I followed all the instructions in the documentation. Nada. Herself suggested unplugging it, waiting a bit, and plugging it in again. Tsk. What does she know? Apparently, more than I do. If your wifi modem thingummy goes out, try unplugging it, waiting a while, and plugging it back in again. Works a treat. And, if you do it first before trying to decipher the documentation - translated into English from the Chinese by someone who understands neither - you may save yourself 48 hours of off-line time.

And the 4th of July was peaceful and quiet, too. Not here, of course, in the Athens of southeast L.A. County, the gunpowder capital of the universe where patriotism is best expressed with safe and sane (sic) incendiary devices and blowing things up in general. Edgar Montrose would weep with joy. But we were elsewhere at the home of friends in another jurisdiction whose city council is neither on the take from purveyors of explosive devices nor demonstrably insane. Instead we had food and drink, good conversation and a bit of music, including a soupçon of piping. (Well, O.K., maybe not all that quiet.) We returned home just before midnight and were delighted to find the gunpowder smoke mostly dissipated and the house still standing.

I've had a couple of students since June. I haven't taught anyone the pipes in a while and so far it has been a really good experience. I hope it is for the students. They seem enthusiastic and they've certainly got enough talent and intelligence for it. There is audible progress going on. As for me, it's interesting to get back to the fundamentals. You know how you learn something and absorb it and move on? It gets assimilated and becomes part of you; you build on it and don't really think much about it after that. Teaching makes you disassemble all that and have another good look at the component parts. It gives insight into what you've always been doing and shows you some things that need to be fixed. Doesn't sound like that would be very enjoyable, but it is.

We're still on the chanter now and will be for a while. But at some point, I'm going to need to find a place to play pipes. The neighbours are very accommodating to me and my pipes and I'd like to keep it that way. But I think a struggling mini-band once a week may be pushing the envelope. . . .