Citrine

I’m in a group. A choir. Called Citrine. We sing a mix of folk and modern songs, either written or arranged by Rowan.

Here are some ways in which Rowan has described our singing:

Bouncy.
Leprous.
Hilarious. [As in, “That was hilarious. You must never sound like that in a performance or I will scream with laughter.”]
SUCKNESS!
Too Bulgarian.
Babyish.
Boring.

“Boring” was the one that really cut.

But Saturday night, we sounded pretty terrific. You can read more about that here and here. It’s quite a buzz, singing in front of a big group and hearing all the work pay off.

Here’s one of my favourite giggles from the weekend. As we were packing up the condo, Angie came in to help me with the bunk beds in my room. I was kneeling on the top one while making it (and hitting my head on the ceiling more than once).
Me: I don’t think I’m doing a good job of this.
Angie, trying to make me feel better: It doesn’t look like anyone made a good job of making them.
Pause:
Me: I made them all.

Here's our official pic.


Here's a slightly less official pic.





Here's me all glam.



A couple of pics from the drive down.





Rowan and I just casually relaxing after the performance.



And one more.