Beff's semester finishes today, and she is due home after dark tonight. Tomorrow night we take Big Mike out for Chinese buffet

This week's movies are Cammy playing with Beff's sneakers, the cats coming running in from the back yard, and me feeing the cats. Pictures are Sunday's breakfast, the October version of the big hydrangea, the earth-smart Stevie Wonder Talking Book geegaw, Maynard on a crisp October morning, the last gasp of the 12thC Roofing Company's sign (it has been destroyed) and the cats lookin' out the window in the computer room. Again.

NOVEMBER 1. Breakfast this morning is coffee. Dinner was a Freschetta brick oven pizza. Lunch was Hebrew National 97% fat free hot dogs, and salad. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK 30.2 and 68.0. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS "We Need Him Every Day" or something like that, by Take 6. LARGE EXPENSES this last week are none. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: At the district music festival my senior year, I volunteered to emcee the informal talent competition, at which I also did a silly lip sync to PDQ Bach's "Do You Suffer" hay fever commercial. I got to feel the power of introducing various local music teachers by their first names, and I even knew that Verne Colburn's middle name was Arthur. I also accompanied Tom Chevalier in "Saturday in the Park", though I didn't know the changes for the bridge. COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK are none. COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY are none. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: Are there any puns on foliage and portfolio? I ask this because last week's quandary actually received an answer. THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: crad. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week is grading and correcting voluminous homework. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: sour pickles, jalapeno stuffed olives. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK all of the rest of Veronica Mars, first season. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 8. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: Just this page. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK is the wrist pad on the iMac. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 12 -- it's Guggenheim season. DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 9 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: magic disappearing leaves. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Forumla P. Victrola. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Software. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: I've been a bad, bad girl.WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.29, $2.34 and $2.39. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a passing that's like a samba, an extinct volcano, refrigeration, the head of a pin.

Running total: 16 barrels of leaves raked and deposited into holding areas so far. The driveway was finally so thickly covered with them that I couldn't tell where it was when I got home. The raking started yesterday, at which time I did 15 barrels all myself. And since the weather was so dadburn gorgeous, it was great exercise. And unlike in previous years, I am not sore the next day. Because I was sore afraid. So today I plan on doing some more, in the morning and in the afternoon after I have lunch with Josh Fineberg. We are doing the Quarterdeck, and you're not.

Meanwhile, a leaf raking party has been scheduled for Saturday, featuring the Ka-Ching twins, and dear readers, you are welcome to come along for the ride. We are either doing pizza afterwards or going to the Quarterdeck. I prefer the latter. At this time last year the leaves were almost all off the trees and raked, but alas, the season is still two weeks later than usual. I am not feeling very wordy today, as I'm eager to get out there and see my grass again.

As to them what make: they had predicted mixed precip here for Saturday morning, at which time I was scheduled to be doing a long drive, but they got it wrong, as usual. However, they were right about the snow -- in the mid-afternoon, a little drizzle changed over to snow, which accumulated a little bit -- much more towards the coast than this far inland, as I was to discover the next morning. It wasn't exactly a winter wonderland, and boy did the local media crow over such an early dumping of snow. It was a hot topic, hot enough to sizzle. On Sunday morning I went into Brandeis all day for a meeting (in the words of Eric Chasalow: yes I really did) and in the morning there was maybe an inch or two of snow once I passed the Lincoln line. It all melted quickly, as it got to the mid-60s on Sunday.

Meantime, I did 32-bar song form in Fundamentals, and inversions of triads was puzzlingly puzzling to them. It was a time to realize that really a whole lot of stuff goes into some of the simplest musical concepts. Fourth species is over in theory, and fifth species starts tomorrow. Flute pieces are to be finished in composition, and Eric Chasalow (his second ka-ching) is reading through them in class. Then we do ostinato pieces.

This weekend, though, I drove up to Maine -- right after class on Thursday, and I had to return very early Saturday morning because we'd appointed with Maynard door and window to talk about fixing a roof leak, getting a new window, and installing a venting fan in the bathroom. Before leaving, I interviewed a prospective graduate student. And I arrived in Bangor at 6:30, after a breathtakingly eventless drive -- except for the WOW factor of getting gas for $2.29 a gallon at the Maine Turnpike rest area. We did dinner at the Chocolate Grill in Orono, where I like to go because of the fried pickle appetizer. I believe I did a blackened salmon salad, and Beff didn't. During the day on Friday, I had a pile of counterpoints to grade, while Beff had appointments at U Maine at 12, 2, and 6. So in the morning we went to the Bangor Mall, where Beff had to get some stuff at Borders Books, and I walked around aimlessly for a short time, thought I'd check out the new shopping centers near the mall and ended up in a left turn only lane for getting on the highway. So I came home, graded my counterpoint homework, all the while watching more Veronica Mars episodes. I made it to episode 20 of 22, so I took the last 2 episodes home and watched them Saturday afternoon. I'm finished! I'm free! Also we made sure that the storm windows were installed, and I admired Beff's new garage door (a week earlier, she tried closing it and it pretty much crumbled in her hands).

And then there was an excellent dinner at the New Moon restaurant in Bangor, where they had some rather exotic beers on tap, two of which I had -- including Dogfish Head 90-minute IPA. I think I got the chicken. And then I was up by 5:30 on Saturday morning to drive back (since I had that forecast of mixed precip in the back of my mind). While passing through Portland, I couldn't help noticing that, instead of mixed precipitation, there were clear skies. So whatever ocean storm was supposed to graze us, it was taking its sweet time.

Yesterday was Halloween, and we matched last year's trick or treater quantity: 0. So we more than doubled it. Meanwhile, I dressed up for Halloween to teach because there was a Brandeis open house and I was expecting prospectives and parents, but got only one parent. And some of the students in Theory 1 were dressed to the hilt -- one I didn't even recognize who it was. We crowned a champion of fourth species (Al, got an obnoxious beeping thing). And my costume was a red and black mask, blue wig, bathrobe and slippers. It was moist in there. Oh yes, and I had an extremely fun 8:00 meeting, so it was quite an eventful day -- before I came home and cleared off the driveway of 15 barrels worth of leaves. Thing is -- there are 15 barrels yet to fall, so there will be duplicate work. When that happens, hating it is done by me.

Tomorrow I do a colloquium at Boston Conservatory. Thursday the electricians come back, hopefully to finish by Friday. And Geoffy has been around -- we did the Blue Coyote Grill for dinner on Sunday because the Quarterdeck was closed. So Thursday I have to blow off the faculty meeting to talk to the electricians before they leave for the day, and then come back for an Alvin Lucier colloquium. Yes, things don't rain but they pour. On top of everything else, the Guggenheim letter pile arrived and I hand-wrote them all. I rule.

No new movies this week, so last week's are still there. Pictures include the beginning of the snowing, a picture where I realized that I got striking shots if I breathed (it was cold enough to see your breath), and the hyndrangeas with a little snow on them. Then we have Carolyn and me in our costumes yesterday (Big Mike took the picture), and some nice shots of trees in the yards a half hour before sunset yesterday. This is followed by the new garage door (picture taken on Beff's phone) and just me yesterday (pic by Carolyn).

NOVEMBER 8. Breakfast this morning is coffee and orange juice. Because of a long late-night meeting and an early afternoon appointment, lunch and dinner were conflated: leftover Buffalo wings and leftover hamburger, plus salad. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK 30.4 and 69.3. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS "Wouldn't it be Nice" by the Beach Boys. LARGE EXPENSES this last week are a few things on amazon, ca. $60 and a BJ's Valu-Pak (fire logs, kitty litter, lemons, limes, fat free cheese), $64. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: My senior year in high school I mondo-auditioned for All-New England. Not only did I audition on trombone with the Hindemith Sonata, I also auditioned on euphonium with the F. David trombone concerto. Plus, vocal auditions were in quartets and only two tenors from our school had to staff 11 quartets auditioning. So like entering the lottery with multiple tickets, I was a multiple winner. They gave out blue ribbons for "I" ratings, and between all 7 auditions I did, I scored four ribbons. Which look damn gaudy if you actually wear them (which I did once). COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK are Target -- no biggie, just that they didn't have the cans of salmon chicken mix that the cats like. COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY are Casello Electric. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: If Alito is confirmed, that makes "Judge Alito", both of them five letters. Will I have to put him on my web page. THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: shrappicate. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week raking and barreling, raking and barreling, raking and barreling. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: Buffalo wings and clams. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK the grass in the yards, again. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 4.1. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: Just this page. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK is some plastic hangin' off a package of CD-Rs in boxes. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 4. DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 4 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: I say it here and it comes out there. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Impairs H. Treated. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Software. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 8,108. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: I can't help it, the road just rose up behind me. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.34. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE Italian caccola, an action figure of Attila the Hun, the snooze button, intransigence.

Running total: 85 barrels of leaves raked and moved so far, with a lot of help from my friends -- none of it from one of the ka-ching twins. Though there was much assistance in other ways -- for instance, helping to flatten the cushion on one of the Adirondack chairs, somewhat, and assisting in the assembly of a pair of bookshelves. I may have gotten ahead of myself, but the number of 85 is pretty impressive. And there are some leaves yet to fall.

Yesterday when teaching my fundamentals class, I noticed that my watch was an hour fast. Though I know I set it correctly with the time change. How it got back I will never know. Luckily, I was able to use strategy to put it where it belonged. And the teaching was fine this week, and it included Eric Chasalow reading through the solo flute pieces by the students in undergraduate composition -- all of them quite sophisticated. I blame myself for that. Yesterday's lecture in fundamentals was on popular song forms, and verse chorus bridge form was all the rage, as I played Beach Boys, Christina Aguilera, Fiona Apple, OutKast, Julie Brown, and others -- including a special screening of Madonna's Ray of Light video. Theory I has finally traversed all of the species and we go back to the book tomorrow. As I type this, I have no memory of what it is I am teaching next. Although I know this week's unit in composition is composing with ostinatos.

Besides the teaching, there is plenty to report. On Tuesday, The Maids came to clean the house just as I was on the phone with a colleague in another time zone, so I finished the call outside. Josh Fineberg came over in a Toyota convertible for lunch, and we did the Quarterdeck and then the Boston Bean House for espresso. I don't recall what we talked about, but I'm sure it was important. And of course during the day, there was much more raking to be done. For those playing along at home, I raked 12 barrels from the side of the garage and in back of the garage that day. Because of teaching and stuff, Wednesday and Thursday were a bust, but Friday resumed our program.

Meanwhile, the electricians were here on Thursday and Friday, ostensibly to finish the job. They were late arriving Thursday, which made me late for my 9:00, and I came back home at 2 to check their progress, after which I had to return to Brandeis for a colloquium by Alvin Lucier (free dinner for Davy and really great hot and sour soup at the Asian Grill). Beff got back at a reasonable time, and on Friday after the electricians arrived, it was a day of raking and errands. Indeed, I spent the better part of the morning -- beginning at 8 am! -- raking up the entire back yard (12 barrels) and Beff came to help on the tail end. This was followed by a mondo errand run to Great Road in Acton, and the electricians' van was gone when we returned. Turns out one of the guys injured himself in the attic while running wires and one guy finished the day by himself. Geoffy was here and doing his usual chores and rehearsals, and he was treated to -- lights! -- when he got back. The basic rewiring got finished, and it was very very very very very very very very very nice to have all the outlets working again, to have the Xerox machine back online, and -- (sound of oxen making oxen sounds) -- a new vent in the ceiling of the bathroom. Yes, that window fan with the long extension cord taped to the tile in the bathroom is gone, the dust is cleared from the screen, and we have a normal bathroom now. Though the guys at Maynard Door and Window still have to pop by to vent it properly. I noted in the attic that there is a 25-foot venting coil awaiting its final destination. And the rest of Friday included Beff finishing with Veronica Mars, and me grading lots and lots of homeworks (by my count about 70 for fundamentals and 10 for theory). Dinner was lovely chicken sandwiches.

Saturday was not just big, it was bigass. It was Big Mike's birthday, though we did not know that in the early portion of our program, and he was scheduled to make an appearance. As was Carolyn. Geoffy was around in the morning keeping us conversationful, and meanwhile I got obsessively to work. With the rewiring finished, that meant the attic no longer had to be box-free. While Beff and Geoff (what a great name for a comedy team that would be) were coffeeing and talking, I started the haul of boxes and other stuff that had been languishing for two months in the garage into the attic. At first I carried them to the top of the stairs and Beff ferried them into the attic. Then we rested. Then phase two was me carrying the boxes to the front porch, resting, and then carrying them the rest of the way. And that means I can park the Corolla in the garage again without butt sticking out. I rule.

Meanwhile, Beff had scores and stuff to produce and mail, and we decided to replace the crapful bookshelf in the upstairs hall with newer ones we'd seen at Staples. So for the latter part of the morning, Beff did a shop with coupons and a trip to Staples to get those bookshelves, I mailed her stuff, and then raked around the northern and eastern periphery of the house. Soon it came time for Carolyn to arrive on the 12:13 from South Acton, so I picked her up, we picked up Buffalo wings for lunchifying in Maynard, and (gasp!) ate them. And then it was on to the real work. We started the day at 46 barrels of leaves raked and carted away, and even at that the driveway was covered again. So we worked on the front yard and driveway and carting those to the woodsy area about 300 feet from the front of the driveway. And then we rested, since that was 21 barrels right there. Then there was the side of the garage, and the far back yard with the apple tree, and I finished with the wide yard to the west (7 barrels). Carolyn briefly tried carting leaves with the wheelbarrow, which only made her appreciate trash barrel technology. Beff raked a barrel's worth of fallen apples into the cedars. And the twain was met. Total number of barrels for the day: 39.

Good thing the weather was gorgeous. When Big Mike missed the appointed hour by two of them, we called him to find that he had had a party the night before and was late getting started. He arrived just in time to share our well-deserved rest in the Adirondack chairs. After all, it was his birthday. And as I said, the weather was oddly gorgeous. Given a choice of raking some more and putting together those bookshelves, we chose the latter. Big Mike and Carolyn did most of the work on the bookshelves, and it was strangely dark outside. Well, strangely is a little strong. The bookshelf-assemblage involved lots of use of Allen wrenches (good night, Gracie), and I pitched in towards the end. I had to take the books off the old bookshelf, Beff and I moved it to the attic, the cats were nowhere to be found, and when the shelves were ready they were placed such as to straddle the newly rewired electric outlet on the baseboard. Then Beff arranged the books on the shelves, remarking unsubtly on the number of Bathroom Readers we own -- okay Beff, we can get rid of some of them.

Then with total darkness achieved, we played Twister in Big Mike's car (it was the only way for us all to fit), which magically transported us to the outskirts of the Quarterdeck restaurant. We delighted at his parallel parking skills ("delighted" is probably not accurate), crossed the street to the restaurant, and were awarded the bigass booth. Archer Ale was the draught of choice, steamers and Buffalo fingers the appetizers, and I got the clam roll, Beff and Big Mike the sole with capers, and Carolyn the grilled salmon. Bad puns were made, especially trying to shoehorn Carolyn's pronunciation of the rap artist 50 Cent into a mispronuciation of "pieces de clavecin", a joke tailor-made for this audience. And then Beff and I walked home while Carolyn and Big Mike decided not to see the production they had planned to see.

So on Sunday we did waffles, and Them What Make had predicted cloudy but very nice. And were off by 15 degrees, and it was spritzy all day. So no outdoorsy for us. We did laundry and other things that married couples do, did lunch, and Beff left for Maine just after noon. So I had to do some more academic stuff, and drove to Brandeis for a grad composers concert (it was pretty good). Double-fiver James Ricci was there to comment on how often he perceives that I peruse his website, and the octatonic scale proved yet again its animal magnetism. In the night I settled down with a dissertation (don't I lead the life) and then realized I had a promotion package to read, and it turned out to be more work than I had planned on. That will take some time in the next several weeks.

And finally, I get to report -- Davy's hernia is back. It's little, and might I add cute, but it's got to be dealt with. Again. I saw my doctor yesterday in order to be referred to a surgeon, whose first available appointment is December 2. I figure in January it will be fixed, again, by the same guy who fixed it in 2000. Which leads me to -- the MacDowell Colony now informs of admission by e-mail, at which time it asks a second time when you are available. I asked for 6 weeks in Feb-March/early April and when I get my dates I will post them here. Because I know you really want to know.

I took a movie of Sunny responding to me saying "Treats!" but it turned out to be boring. So the same movies are up as in the last two weeks. Meanwhile, I got an mp3 of the Marine Band guys doing Two Can Play That Game, and it's quite good. Apparently this performance made the bass clarinetist and marimbist into demi-gods within the organization, and that's gotta be good. And they are not satisfied with it, so they intend to return to it. Hmm, play really hard music or go with the band on tour to a ton of high school auditoriums in Texas -- choices, choices.

What's coming up this week? Not a heck of a lot. Today will be a harrowing day with lots of stuff to grade and prepare. Then the rest of the week should go smoothly. Beff arrives on Saturday instead of Thursday, and it is my hope that we can more or less finish with the raking portion of this year. On Sunday a bunch more leaves fell on the front yard and driveway (the corner was covered again), but Monday's winds blew them far, far away (you'll know when you get there). I like it when that happens.

Today's pictures begin with cats. Cammy tends to lay in the bathroom sink when I get my morning pills, so there he is. Then there's Sunny with those hilarious glowy cat eyes.Next, the new bathroom vent, Carolyn at work filling a barrel with leaves, Carolyn and Big Mike flatteing the cushions on the Adirondack chairs, the ka-ching twins assembling a bookshelf, a single glowy Cammy eye, the bookshelves in context, and Carolyn's salmon.

NOVEMBER 15. Breakfast this morning is coffee and orange juice. Dinner was a microwave meal. There was no lunch. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK 22.5 and 63.1. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS One of those Adam Guettel songs from "Myths and Hymns". LARGE EXPENSES this last week is Papalia Plumbing, $204.98. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: These memories are vague, but they involve the new integrated elementary school in St. Albans and performances in the gymnasium: once I was brought in to play an obbligato recorder part for a piece with the chorus (which I was not in), and once I played a very difficult clave part in the same context. Why did this come back to me now? I also remember that I was sophisticated enough at the time to know to put the ring finger of the right hand on the D-hole to get "F" to come out more in tune. COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK is Earthlink, for making this webpage variously inaccessible last Monday through Thursday, and for not responding to my queries about it. COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY are none. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: Why do leaves keep piling around the back steps? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: fardle. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week raking and barreling, raking and barreling, raking and barreling, just like last week. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: Actually, none. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK there is a Dunkin Donuts on my drive to work -- not that I stopped there. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 5. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: Performances, this page. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK is none. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 2. DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 11 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Absence of committee meetings. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Flagpoles H. Municipality. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Software. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 8,148. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: I've been careless with a delicate man. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.09. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a Coke bottle, what the cat dragged in, the mother of invention, next year's SI calendar.

Running total: 104 barrels of leaves raked and moved. The "burning bush" bushes (I don't know if they're called that, but Carolyn called them that, and that's a big ka-ching) still have some a-sheddin' to do, and some more oak leaves will fall, but by and large, we are by and largely finished. This is the first year that no one has suggested to me (or Martler, last year) that the leaves being dumped into the woods should be dumped in a very specific way (I normally wanted to suggest a specific anatomic impossibility in response). And our neighbor with the bigass fence did the big work of raking the leaves off the sidewalk on the non-yard side of his fence, which was the work of a good Samaritan if ever there was one. I have to go to the bathroom.

In order to get to 104, I and Beff (who got in around lunch time on Saturday) spent nearly all of Friday and Saturday a-rakin'. It was more tedious this time, since the carpet of leaves and stuff was less thick, hence fewer barrels per hectare (an area of Berlioz, they tell me). There was a whole lot of fardling going on, and the mini-yard in the back of the garage yielded a big six and a half barrels. Raking that area plus the apple tree yard yielded grass that had to be mowed, so I actually fired up the lawnmower for the first time in a month and a half and went a-cuttin'. Some people have told me they mow their leaves, then rake 'em, but I just don't see that happenin' here.

Lunch when Beff arrived was dumplings from the Asian market, and salad. Dinner was stir fry with a Trader Joe's "hot and sweet" sauce that we decided we didn't like. The rare dud from Trader Joe's. Tossed it we did.

Actually, not all of Friday was spent a-rakin'. It turns out that grading and correcting about 100 fifth species counterpoints is pretty time-consuming, particularly the part about fixing them so that they work. That and 25 complex homeworks for fundamentals. Which reminds me -- I am now officially going to veer away from how fundamentals was taught last year and in the last 2 weeks after Thanksgiving talk about realizations of lead sheets (that's prounounced "leed", not "led" -- which would be dangerous, especially if they were used on your bed. And that's an internal rhyme, so there, smarty pants). 'cause the stony silence that greeted the "how to do a Roman numeral analysis" lecture was, well, stony. But not leaden.

Also important to bring up was that on Friday we had a plumber here. For some time now --- and now that I think of it, ever since the new water supply went on line and we no longer had the watering restrictions -- we've had to remove the schmutz traps occasionally from the faucets to blow out the calcium deposits that accumulate and block the flow. There was even a tedious story in this very space regarding that in relation to our cool new shower head. I had just de-blocked the schmutz trap in the kitchen faucet when the hot water suddenly stopped flowing freely. It was a trickle, and that hardly even looks like a word. So I called a plumber, whose first availability was Friday afternoon. He showed up at about a quarter to one, took the sucker apart and -- uh oh, I got a talkative plumber -- called up to me to see what the culprit was: calcium deposits. He said that he'd done a lot of blockage calls from calcium deposits in Acton and Maynard, and that this one was pretty much the most blocked of all. I don't know how much I love participating in such a superlative, but I may as well mention Carolyn here so that she gets a ka-ching. It took him an hour and fifteen minutes, and every once in a while he called me over to look at something or explain some nerdy plumberly thing. We made the joke that I'd see him again in three years for the same problem. And meanwhile, while we were without running hot water down there, I had to do the dishes in the dishwasher, which we never do. Yes, I bought Cascade liquid, and yes, it seems using the dishwasher wastes a lot of water.

The plumber said he used some of my CLR to unclog the faucets before he rebuilt them and that we should not drink the faucet water for a little while until the system is flushed. So on Saturday I ran the water for a long time and then tried to make lemonade (since God gave me lemons) using the tap water. It tasted a little stony, and I couldn't tell if it was the soap from the dishwasher or the tap water, but I had to pour it all out and redo it using that expensive spring water stuff that used to be for the use of only Geoffy. And now, and then. And it tasted just fine.

Beff stayed until Monday morning, actually a-risin' at 5 to drive Mainewards, and I didn't get out of bed until a quarter to six. Nonetheless, I pulled out of the driveway before she did, and I even used a car to do that.

Oh yes. There was a faculty meeting on Thursday. I wish that would happen less often. It was the "it's an odd numbered year so we must be drastically revising the curriculum" meeting, and I'm already planning on what hat I will wear to the 2007 manifestation of that meeting. I think something with feathers, don't you? The proposed revision of the history sequence was presented by Big Mike, and I included this whole paragraph just so that he could have a ka-ching.

Now I find out that Speculum Musicae is performing my new piano trio at Merkin on December 20. Oh lawdy, what is I goin' to do? That's right around the date all my exams are due (I will have 55 of them to pick up on the 19th), and also the date that the electricians are FINALLY going to be here to finish the job. So the four months with holes in ceiling and walls will finally come to a stop. We've been putting off putting the Adirondack chairs in storage for the winter, since we put them on the side porch for that, making it hard to get to the ceiling where plastering has to happen. I'll figure out something, but it ain't going to be pretty. Because compared to me, nothing is.

So with leaf raking and another time-consuming chapter of life basically over, it's finally time to get to work on serious stuff. but first (sigh), lots of homework to grade. I don't think I'll want to do this overload thing again. Oh, that reminds me. I have undergraduates tugging on my figurative sleeve (I also have some abstract sleeves, but I save them for Valentines Day) to teach them orchestration, and in the past I've done that as independent studies. But those don't take enough time. Plus, one of the points in our external review from 2002 was that students wanted orchestration taught. But that would be a low-enrollment course, not feasible for our new get-warm-butts-in-Slosberg-chairs curriculum. So, sigh, I may be proposing that the course exist, limit enrollment to 5, and teach it as an overload (or overlord, as Carolyn (ka-ching) wouldn't say) next year. And for those of you following along at home, I WILL teach Theory 2 next year, though I'm removing the 3-part species counterpoint unit, which I hated.

Oh yes, and by far the most time-consuming event of the week was reading Sam's dissertation. I liked it, though it took a long time to get through it. Now I'm on a task beloved of many full professors, which is evaluating a promotion file from another university. I can't say whose or where, 'cause it's my little secret (il mio segrettino).

Dionysus calls. So does Euripides. And Beff let me know that Paula Poundstone likes the Three Stooges, particularly the episode in which they are tailors and the immortal line is uttered, "Euripides, we mend-a-dese". Guy humor?

Movies! I got Cammy responding to me saying "Treats" again, and I made another ritual visit to the Ben Smith Dam. I also put up old movies of our local dogs on the way to downtown (my avant-garde treatment of them, that is) and an old movie of Drip and Bly, now long dead (which they weren't when the movie was made). For pictures, I have splashy-splashy at the dam, a line of raked leaves ready to be barreled, Sunny midst the Buffy DVDs, some holly berries, and bookend kitties that I noticed while a-rakin'.

NOVEMBER 22. Breakfast this morning is coffee, orange juice, and Shaws light vegetarian sausages. Dinner was fried pickles and Buffalo wings at the Cambridge Common. Lunch was a garden salad. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK 21.2 and 67.5. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS Fiona Apple's Extraordinary Machine. LARGE EXPENSES this last week is $83 at amazon for fake books and DVDs and $82 at Tower Records for DVDs. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: Standards get you everywhere. I heard that once after an undergraduate composer concert at Columbia (in a Barnard building) that someone said, "I can tell my piece was pretty good because even Davy said he liked it". This was said by the same composer who composed what became to be known as "the stinker" 5th species exercise in my counterpoint class. COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK is the US Postal Service, not only for the poor service at the Stow Post Office, but also slow delivery of packages from amazon. COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY are none. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: What, really, is "music when soft voices die"? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: kimp. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week is grading homewok. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: Blackberries, which are a little sour this time of year, just the way I like 'em. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK various music blogs, including one by Doctor Danny Felsenfeld. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 8.9. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: Performances, this page. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK some more wrapping of a package of CD-Rs. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 1. DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 40 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Absence of committee meetings. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Inkiest T. Electorate. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Software. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 8,153. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: I certainly haven't been shopping for any new shoes. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.02, $2.09 and $2.27. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a salad shooter, erasable ink, obscure cognates, a head of lettuce before it's been washed.

Running total: still 104 barrels, plus a few little schmutz piles from various areas. The Adirondack chairs are now safely stored in the basement for the winter, by the door, and I took care to rake the accumulated leaves and pine needles that were hiding out underneath and around them. This also means that the cats no longer have their mid-yard hiding place should the sound of a leaf blower or chainsaw intrude. During the rain and heavy wind storm of last Thursday, the tarp over the storage shed in the back yard blew off -- I figured because the very heavy Princeton ropes (they are orange and black) had stretched to the point where they were no longer snug enough to keep the tarp on. So one of our weekend errands was to buy rope to replace that morceau de merde stuff and re-secure the tarp. There was a driving rainstorm with big winds last night and it held, so success seems to be with us at the moment.

Also a quick, but strenuous task for the weekend was the removal of the squat and short rhododendrom in the driveway. I have hated it for all five years we've been here because during snow shoveling season, it's near the end of the driveway task, and just as you're getting really fatigued, you have to expend extra effort to throw shovelfuls of snow over an ornamental bush that doesn't even flower any more. So Beff gave me permission, and we had a rollicking good time, if "rollicking" has no meaning. The bush had trapped plenty of leaves midst the fangs of its lower branches, so Beff also raked and carried this schmutz pile away. And while I don't look forward to shoveling my driveway in the winter, I don't have to worry about my dumb ornamental crap-bush getting in the way.

In fundamental this week there was a Quiz, and in Theory 1 we are plodding through Kostka/Payne at a pace that outraces the slow ones and bores the fast ones. Which is always the case. Yesterday in fundamentals I introduced seventh chords and showed how to notate chromatic alterations of them, and started them on piano realizations of lead sheets. And I introduced the opposable thumb piano texture (most of the class voted to be proud of their opposable thumbs) as evidenced in Daydream Believer and Chicago's I've Been Searching So Long (which sounds like the Days of Our Lives theme the more you listen to it, which I don't). More to follow after Thanksgiving break. Fully a third of my classes were absent, which goes to show you -- just as the Christmas season has encroached backwards all the way to Halloween now, the 4-day Thanksgiving break is now interpreted to be a weeklong break by many students. Well, not "just as", but close. It's about time for that yearly obnoxious e-mail from some administrative functionary warning us not to cancel classes the day before Thanksgiving. I've got to learn how to train my computer to zero in on that one and stick it in the spam box before it even reaches my sensitive little eyes.

And it's time to report that I am ready, really ready, for that spring to be spent on leave. Yeah, baby, December 12 to September 1 or approximately that. I have started to have vivid dreams with music in them -- including a dream where music purportedly by me was blaring from a stereo while another sound was happening, and another one with some other music coming out. That's usually my body telling me to get on with the creative thing and forget the administrative-teaching crap. And when it can, to get me even more hepped up, it calls me "loser". Ah yes, I have a third person relationship with my own body. Doesn't everybody?

I always love doing the Saturday morning errand thing with Beff, as she is usually producing scores and DVDs to send out to various places, and we have particular specific needs at enough various places that we actually have to use STRATEGY to get everything to come out even. Take this Saturday. We needed some firewood, which you can only get at Shaw's right now, and Shaw's is right next to the Stow post office. We also needed some fruits, vegetables, buns, salad, and various other things that can only be spelled using letters of the alphabet. So Beff decided she'd go to the Stow post office while I shopped for the stuff we needed. I picked up a ton of things in Shaws and was waiting for her a LONG time in the cereal aisle ("don't get cereal -- I want to choose it", she said) while little kids at the door of Shaw's were trying to get you to sign a petition about something. Finally, Beff arrived with the usual stories about waiting in line at the Stow post office: "I come here about once every three months, only to remember why I don't come here more than once every three months", etc. I think the tomatoes I had bagged went bad while I was waiting for Beff, so I just left them behind. And then we went to Colonial Wine and Spirits in Acton because we are in charge of the wine and beer for the Thanksgiving dinner in Vermont, and then on to Trader Joe's for more particular things you can't get at Shaws (such as small bags of lettuce, good coffee, stir fry veggies, and especially frozen potato pancakes).

Then Beff wanted to to TJ Maxx. So I checked out Roche Brothers supermarket -- my third of the day -- and got nothing. Beff got what she came to get, and home we went. Finally.

Meanwhile. During the week, our old pal Danny Felsenfeld started up a music blog (felsenmusick.blogspot.com) and on Thursday night did a little piece on me, giving a pointer to the Buttstix on this page. At the same time, another blogger brought up his new relationship with Amy D, and a third blogger, unknown to all of us, commented on the irony and happenstance of all those things happening at the same time (the other blogs are called Night After Night and Deceptively Simple). Thanks to Danny and the other guys, this page got a spike in page views (I include this graph because I just found out that I can get this information):

Thursday was the day Danny posted his entry and Friday was the day of the other posts. And this is the first time that my e-mail address has ever actually appeared on my web page. It'll be gone next week. Danny wields vast power.

Saturday night was Eric Chasalow's 50th birthday concert by Auros, which we attended, but skipped the reception because I had to be up early on Sunday. It was an impressive affair, with a few good performances and a few not so good ones. His piano and tape piece is a real winner -- the beginning of sustaining sonorities not just with unisons, but with third and fifth partials as well.

Other tedious events of the week is just reading half of Dewek's dissertation. My function seemed to be to remove scare quotes, and stir to taste.

Big event of the week was a day trip to Princeton, which is impressive given that nine and a half hours of the day was spent driving. The rest of the time was spent hearing some very young students of Jim's play etudes of mine, listening a bit to first edits of my pieces from Jim and Judy's upcoming CD on Bridge (they rock), taking a nap in the afternoon, and hearing the premiere of etude #63 in a graduate piano recital at Westminster Choir College. Danielle Ingram nailed it. Note the spike in Davy's barometer, first paragraph. Alas, there was a half hour delay on the Garden State Parkinglotway on the return trip behind an accident (if only I hadn't stopped for coffee....). I got home at 1:36 am, and -- incredibly -- answered a bunch of e-mails. Then slept. Then spent Monday being -- how you say in your language? -- wiped.

And Monday was yesterday. After teaching, seeing Max's piece that he's working on now several times, and taking a commuter rail to Porter, I did beer with Gil Rose as we spoke of the future, and on the way home I got some holiday DVDs and -- for nostalgia's sake -- stopped at Cambridge Common for dinner. They have fried pickles now! So I got them, and they were a little weird -- they were fried pickles all right, but they were shaped like bread sticks -- cylinders rounded at both ends. But damn, they were fine to have. And the Buffalo wings did not disappoint. They also did not heavily impress, but they did not disappoint. While having this meal on my own (along with some Boulder Amber Ale), I delighted in watching a bit of a sports talk show on ESPN with closed captioning and the spelling errors that inevitably crop up when typing 150 words a minute. The trip from Porter to Brandeis was as I remembered it -- tedious. And dark.

Tomorrow Beff and I drive to Burlington, Vermont for Thanksgiving with dad and siblings. I have to presume we will be getting a hotel room at a steep discount and arguing over the third pillow. We come back Friday morning and the cats will be pissed. And will have pissed. A lot. Football will be showing on TV, and we will continue not to enthrall with stories of lives spent in the arts.

Not many pictures got taken this week. I did figure out why access was forbidden to the two new cat movies that I posted last week, and have corrected that and left the references up there. I took a new tussle movie, which is also there. Meanwhile, Sunny's tail got puffy when I played some old files of Drip meowing desperately, and there it is. I also got Sunny to watch a movie of Amy D. And the cats sleeping on the bed was way cuter than the pictures would have you believe. At bottom is the desktop picture on the Windows computer with lots of referential Davys. And no ka-chings for the twins this week.

NOVEMBER 29. Breakfast this morning is orange juice and coffee. Dinner was a Healthy Choice macaroni and cheese microwave dinner. Lunch -- rather late -- was a chunky chicken noodle soup. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK 14.7 and 46.0. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS Daydream Believer. LARGE EXPENSES this last week is $99 for Fontographer upgrade, undiclosed amount for Christmas gifts, $60 at amazon. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: In high school I worked at Warner's Snack Bar in the summer, a drive-in with picnic tables and a sign where you ordered that read "Absolutely no food at the tables not bought here." Don Swin and Margaret and their mother and I had great fun making fun of the bad grammar of that sign, and once the family all went to the snack bar, and Margaret's mother actually got in line and began her order by asking, "can you tell me which of the tables were not bought here?" COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK is Font Lab. COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY are none. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: Who reads the Wall Street Journal for its coverage of culture? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: Blxnod (a funny clown). THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week is snow (already!). RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: uh, turkey, I guess. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK "Evening in the Palace of Reason", which I read from cover to cover this week -- excluding endnotes, that is. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 1. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: This page. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK yet more wrapping of a package of CD-Rs. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 0. DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 14 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Extreme ease in finding catsitters. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Dorab Hunter. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Make Google your profit maker. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 8,182. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: I say tell me the truth but you don't dare. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.17 in Vermont -- though I passed $1.99 at the Shell station in Waltham. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a block of gorgonzola carved into a miniature replica of the Statue of Liberty, a New York minute, a peacock feather, a Bezier control point.

Running total of leaves raked: still 104. Them what make are back to their old tricks: compare the maximum temperature of this last week (above) to yesterday's forecast high of 55. And of course with last week's cold snap and accumulating "shovelable" snow, the weather is on everyone's mind. But not everyone actually seems to have much of a mind, as yesterday someone (I forget who) asked, rhetorically, when I thought we would get the first snowfall of the season. Why do people ask me so many rhetorical questions?

A little break in the action was just what the doctor ordered, and the Thanksgiving break was just that break. After my usual stellar teaching on Monday to a less than full house, there was Tuesday and errands, Beff drove in from Maine late, and got home near midnight. On Wednesday morning we left for Vermont, after yet more e-mails answered from students asking if Wednesday classes would be held, whose answer was given them far in advance at least half a dozen times. As a sidebar, one might note that the Brandeis student of 2005 asks a lot more questions that have already been answered than the Brandeis student of 1996. Back then the raging question was, "They hired YOU"? And, not less importantly, "you left Columbia for HERE?"

But that one went rather far afield. Them what make assured us of great driving weather for Wednesday, and off we went at about 7 in the morning, after breakfast-y items and coffee, and I was the driver. We hadn't filled the tank before leaving, and we wanted to be free of urban New Hampshire, such as it is, before pulling off the road, and soon after Bow we took an exit that looked promising, drove about five miles on a road lined with trees and not a single domicile, turned around, got back on the highway, and took the next exit. Which brought us into a charming, yet charmless, little village, where we filled up and got some crumb cake stuff and made our way back to the highway. Noting with the opposite of glee that there were some rather large iced-over puddles in the service station. After dealing with the mind-numbingly boring part of the drive (New Hampshire), we delighted at the explosion of scenery at the Vermont state line, followed soon thereafter by an explosion of snow squalls and, briefly, barely passable lanes. Oh, those them what make! A portion of the drive between Randolph and Montpelier was spent going 40, behind a granny-type driver who couldn't be passed because the passing lane was impassable. And eventually, we got back to full throttle, parked at Beff's dad's condo, did our tumbling routines on the mini-trampoline, and drove into downtown Burlington for a previously-arranged rendezvous with Troy Peters, a composer and conductor who is now the head honcho of the Vermont Youth Orchestra.

Alas, the place that Troy chose for this rendezvous had two of my least favorite things in a restaurant: absence of Buffalo wings and a free-for-all setup of places you stand in line to order stuff, depending on whether you want sandwiches, coffee or pastries. Despite all of this bad fortune, we had a lovely lunch, talked of studying composition at Penn, and of Daron Hagen, and spent nearly the rest of the afternoon standing in one of the free-for-all lines waiting to pay. Beff had tea on a stick (picture below) along with her food, and I got some Real Tea by whoever it is that makes Real Tea. And the rest of the day was spent in the condo. On Tuesday it had rained and then then changed to snow, and plenty of ice was evident, and talk was of an intensifying clipper that would dump 2 to 4, no! 3 to 6! inches on Thanksgiving day. Beff's sister arrived in the late afternoon and took charge of the neckwards gear (Martler's terminology), which included the most comprehensive collection of antipasto selections witnessed since the Enlightenment. Meanwhile, I was reading the book which I mention in the first paragraph, and I couldn't put it down because of the glue on my hands. Sorry, such an easy joke.

The antipasto meal was good, the sports on TV was constant, and on Thanksgiving I spent the lion's share of the day grading theory homework while ignoring football. Thanksgiving itself was a relatively pain-free event, and the snowstorm ended up dumping about 2 inches. In the late morning, Beff and her sister and brother and I walked to a convenience store to look for Bell seasoning, but got beer instead, since our quest was for "b" food. After the homework was all graded (total time: five hours, give or take four and a half hours), I went back to the book, then cut the turkey (I was asked to evaluate whether it was ready, and I made something up with great authority in my voice: give it another half hour), and we ate. This was an unusual meal because for once there was no lowfat nothin' -- gravy made directly from the turkey greasin's, real butter, etc. -- and I made sure to have but one helping of everything. And then I went back to my book.

Beff took charge of the drive back on Friday, and this time the mountains were free of snow, and I finished the book. At one of the boringest places in New Hampshire, Beff got pulled over for doing 70 in a 65 zone and both Beff's brother and I wanted to slap some sense into the state trooper, but there was no ticket issued. We made it back in good time and ---- for the first time this year, there was snow shoveling to do. Eeew. Not a lot, but it had to be done.

On Saturday Beff had to leave early to drive to Maine to do a gig in the backup orchestra for Anne Murray at the U Maine Performance Arts Center -- one rehearsal in the afternoon and the gig in the evening. Beff reports that she even got one solo and a spotlight, but she didn't say on what piece. In the meantime, I liked Jim 'n' Judy's recording of my old arrangement of "Musician" for voice, violin and piano enough that I searched through my archives and found the original (from 1990) -- missing the first two pages. So I entered that much into Finale and made entreaties to Judy on e-mail to fax me the first two pages. Which happened on Monday. "Musician" turns out to be Son of To Be Sung on the Water, since it was written to be part of a big set (Six Bogan Poems) built around an arrangement of that song and using the same chords and motives -- I even located an old letter where I revealed the middleground bass line (which traces the E hexachord complementary to the voice's opening hexachord and unfolds it in fifths -- probably due to the presence of a violin), and I nearly broke my arm patting myself on the back.

Once that was done, it was to the Bacchae, where I sat down (on Sunday) and wrote down stuff for the first time since August 22 (David Sanford's birthday). And I wrote feverishly -- a whole bunch of cues that are to become mottos for Dionysus and the lion's share of the underscoring of the first chorus of Dionysian revelers. I did not quote Revel-y, as I am writing for the Lyds with timpani. Since this is incidental music, I learned how to create more length with our old standbys, repeat signs and big type that says "4x" or "8x" -- which the sound guy for the production is going to play with anyway. So with all the x's I estimate I wrote about 6 to 8 minutes of cues and underscoring in an afternoon. I simply have to reconsider becoming a minimalist.

The return to teaching on Monday was -- disappointing. In Fundamentals we realized the lead sheet for Over the Rainbow and in first year theory we harmonized some soprano lines, but really, what's the point? Oh wait, that wasn't me speaking. In any case, the manifold excuses for missing assignments started to pile up. And instead of my usual noon exit, I saw two graduate students for consultation on their dissertation pieces. And I went to the bathroom.

Last night's grading of homework took until 10 at night. Then I discovered that a native OS X version of Fontographer was now available, paid for it online, and attempted to download it, each time with an error message that something had been reset by the client. Eventually I got the message that I had downloaded it too many times (apparently in some worlds, zero is a very large number) and would not be able to do so any more. Sigh. Either the Font Lab people fix it or I have to call Citibank and deny the charge against the card. I hate rank incompetence of this sort because it is both rank and incompetent -- hence the term.

The spike in hits on this site from Danny's blog mention, and stuff, finished and I'm back to several hundred hits a day. As Jim Ricci pointed out, a large number of those hits is likely from search engine bots like Google looking for searchable text, etc. So I'm pleased to say that this site is the preferred choice of bots everywhere.

Meanwhile, Chamber Music Society put up a chatty little blurb on me on their web page for the February 16 Double Exposure show, noting that if you read this web page, attendance will be pretty much obligatory. No, really.

Events this week include a drive to NYC to hear Mindy Wagner's piece with CMSLC, Corolla appointment at the dealer, doctor's appointment with a surgeon, and an appearance in a reading of a brief set piece Thursday night for the first annual BrandAID.

The only new movie this week is of Cammy expressing his displeasure with cuisinal offerings, up in yellow text there (Donotlike). I also put a link to an mp3 of the first edit of "Musician". So there. Today's pictures include: foliage mixed with winter in Burlington; a traffic sign that seems to indicate that an aerodynamic grand piano (or a slippery one) lies ahead;three Wiemanns walking in the snow; Troy Peters in a reflective moment; Beff's tea on a stick; our antipasto dinner from Wednesday night; the cooked Thanksgiving turkey; and Cammy into extreme exploring.

DECEMBER 6. Breakfast this morning is orange juice and coffee. Dinner was Thai hot and sour soup, and salad. Lunch was a South Street club and some Inko's blueberry. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK 19.6 and 63.1. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS that Saint-Saens bacchanalian dance music, whatever it is called. LARGE EXPENSES this last week is $90 for a new bedside reading lamp for Beff, and the cost of Beff's Xmas present revealed: 4 gig iPod nano, $250. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: My first year of grad school was also the year that the complete LULU came to the Met. Claudio Spies got some of us students into rehearsals, and I think I went to five; I got to know the piece rather well. Twice after rehearsals, Claudio got "Jimmy" Levine to come and talk to us in the lobby, and we got to make suggestions about staging! Apparently, a staging for the beginning of Act 3 Scene 2 where Lulu picks up a client at a seedy streetlight was deleted due to our input. And Levine exhorted us baby composers to send him our work. One of us (not me) actually did so -- and never received an acknowledgement. COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK is BJ's -- they are OUT of Inko's! COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY are Apple Computer. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: to quote French proverbs or not to quote French proverbs? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: n'arace. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week is theory homeworks that fail to raise the third of V in minor. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: gourmet tomatoes, gourmet olives, soy salad dressing, Granny Smith apples, fresh squeezed orange juice. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK the singer of "You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" was the voice of Tony the Tiger, and the composer of that song was on the Fame TV series. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 19 (I bend the rules a lot in the last week of classes). REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: This page. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK Beff's reading lamp on her nightstand. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 11 (all of them for Galen). DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 47 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Cat doodies that dissolve within an hour. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Blaze Mote. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Re: forthcoming Meediacdations. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 8,197. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: Ah-ah-ah-e-ah-ahhh. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $1.99 but I see it's gone from $1.93 back up to $2.05 at the station across from city hall. Oh, those gasoline types! OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a picture that I didn't draw, the future of radio, a naughty bit, one of those songs that you always knew you knew (burp).

As I type this on Tuesday morning, a big coastal Nor'easter that the them what makes have been direly predicting for nearly a week is dumping ... nothing ... on us. As recently as yesterday's lunch with the ka-ching twins, it was noted that the possibility still existed for 6 to 9 inches, and that's just pornographic. I officially moved the gas can from the storage shed (for lawn mowing) to the garage (for snow blowering) for the eventuality of what has become nothingness. And THAT will be a title someday.

Running total of leaves raked: still 104. Now any left to rake are snow-covered due to Sunday's storm, and I don't even know if that is the passive voice. It had better not be, because they already charged my credit card.

What a week! What? A week? Wha? Ta? We? Ek! Actually -- fairly eventless week, and I suppose the highlight was Joe Morgan (ka-ching), TA'ing for Fundamentals, being peppered with questions about -- tritone substitutions! Geez, he probably thinks they learn secondary dominants and suspended thirteenth chords this week. (no, but they do learn turnarounds and sus4 chords -- how else am I going to deduct the cost of the "Help!" soundtrack?) In fundamentals, we actually watched Teen Girl Squad on the AV box, just so I could teach the 8va sign (which is on the soundtrack transcription I gave them) and grace notes. I also spent a good amount of time making up the final exam, so that is out of the way. I cling steadfastly to the Kostka/Payne in theory, though I have my own ways of illustrating its bigass points: to wit, using music from the Grinch to illustrate melodic sequence (I was asked to reframe the music as a harmonic sequence, and either I or the music refused to yield). Thursday was spent finding good ways to harmonize full scales up and down in the soprano and bass. And just wait -- 6/4s are this week and that means -- Borderline! And ... Gloria! Davy knows his goofy pop cadential six-fours, all right. Oh yes, and I ornamented the chorales with secondary leading tone seventh chords and augmented sixth chords. Filling their minds with mush, I am. I also did the final exams for first year theory by doing the Frankenstein thing with some old ones (yes, yes, putting screws on the side of their heads...).

In composition it was actually a fun week, as the topic is variations. All by themselves, the class made a list of 12 ways to make a variation. And now (mwa ha ha) they have to use at least four of them. On Saturday their 12-tone and variation projects get read by an excellent pianist, all because I knew where to go to beg for fundageness.

Can you tell I'm REALLY READY for the semester to be over? Careful now, slow but steady wins n'arace.

Among more mundane things, the radiator in the master bedroom is bubbling when it comes on in the morning, leaving a trail of wawa and recently overflowing the little ceramic bowl we got to catch its drippings. Beff thinks the air purifier has something to do with that, and we will see, we will see. The cats, especially Cammy, have wanted to go through closed doors at all time, especially the attic, and while searching for our lighted wooden Xmas tree, I discovered Cammy laid out on a sleeping bag in the attic. I think I've caused them a little less want of going into the attic by bringing the sleeping bag to the guest room couch and arranging it with two casual (not causal) kitty sleeping stations. Evidence of my immediate success is in the pictures below.

Among the time-consuming things of the week included our Friday errands, which we usually do on Saturday, but this time included car service at the dealer and the MA state inspection and an appointment with a surgeon -- likely my wittle bitty opewation will be in very early February -- which was the only suitable hole in my schedule I could find. It also included Beff getting a new bedside lamp, as the cats knocked her existing one over and broke it, and a walk downtown for three-way bulbs and mailing gifts and stuff. During our salmon burger dinner, we watched The March of the Penguins on DVD -- on Saturday it was Horton Hears a Who and the extras that go with the Grinch special while I corrected homework and Beff made packages of gifts for relatives.

Speaking of gifts, we exchanged our regular Christmas gifts on Friday morning because we will be at VCCA, away from gift-givers, on Christmas day. So we ended up getting each other vastly smaller and thinner versions of things we already have and use. Beff got a 4 gigabyte iPod nano, and I got a digital camera (see pictures below). The digital camera seems to lack functional drivers for OS X, so I have to capture the shots on the Windows computer. The iPod nano plays tunes AND shows photae, so Beff loaded a few things up onto it, and is ready to be the coolest person in school this week -- in fact, loading pictures of each and every colleague who will be giving her that designation. Beff's iPod is engraved "I belong to/Beth Wiemann" on the back, and I got a FedEx tracking number with my confirmation e-mail -- just for the heck of it I checked the tracking number to find it had been shipped (for free) from Shenzen, China, and went to Anchorage and then Indianapolis before coming to Boston. This is such a cosmopolitan present, it is, it is. Alas, I started feeling pangs of want for one of the new iPods that plays videos....

Then there was dinner at the Quarterdeck on Saturday night with Seung Ah (ka-ching!) and her husband Peter as a way of doing a key exchange before she takes care of cats while we are gone (big Mike (ka-ching!) is also doing a week, and Justin about 4 days). We all had Archer Ale, and the Seung Ahs marveled at the size of the portions. They had to have theirs wrapped.

And one exclamation from Horton Hears a Who is going to make it (back) into our regular exclamations for a while, and that is: Beezelnut! It is most useful to remember to do it as if in the voice of Tony the Tiger, as it was the same actor. (in high school after an airing of the show, we used "Yopp!", "Boil That Dustspeck" and "A person's a person no matter how small" a lot -- though we didn't appreciate that the voice of Horton was Edward Everett Horton. Who doesn't sound anything like Carolyn Davies (ka-ching!).

Sunday I was to drive to New York to hear Mindy Wagner's Emily Dickinson songs, but the weather got in the way. I stayed home instead, wrote some Bacchae, and shoveled. And spent time on a letter for a promotion in another department. And what it is, too. I also took care of eleven letters for grad school applications, none of them mine.

In fundamentals yesterday, one student finally identified the "four rhythms" I had posted on the online course materials for the course, and I promised a cheap or nearly worthless prize. Having realized that the prize in theory for the same identification was actually pretty cool, I hopped to the Dollar Store to find some cheap but nifty things, and encountered what can only be called optimism for the old way of composing. See the "tonality" link up to the left.

And I scheduled my little operation for Groundhog Day, which brings with it two other appointments: a pre-op checkup and a meeting with an anaesthesiologist, neither of which came with the previous one. I hate it when that happens.

There were no good new movies to be made, so I made a movie of the kitchen faucet dripping (on purpose). Happy viewing! Of the pictures below, the first two were taken with the tiny new camera: the Powell flute factory in Maynard, and the roster for the Sit N Bull Pub. Follow this with Cammy-In-A-Box and the cats fascination with the new placement of the sleeping bag in the guest room. Then there is size comparison of the new iPod nano and teeny camera, the counter after I make fresh squeezed orange juice, and evidence of Beff's footprints and tire tracks after I shoveled Sunday's snow.

DECEMBER 13. Breakfast this morning is orange juice, coffee, and Trader Joes vegetarian sausage patties. Dinner was hot and sour soup and salad. Lunch was ... actually, I didn't get around to having lunch. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK 12.6 and 39.9. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS the Grinch song from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. LARGE EXPENSES this last week are none that I recall. POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: The only time I drank in actual class time was my year at Stanford, in my Tonal Composition class. I had announced in one class that I had gotten engaged (unsurprisingly, to Beff -- less unsurprisingly, over the phone), and in a nonchalant way. In the next class, the students surprised me by bringing cheese, crackers, cake, and champagne. Which, of course, we had to consume. After half an hour I tried to deliver, or salvage, part of my prepared lecture (as back in those days of more hair and such unfulfilled potential, I prepared my lectures), and failed utterly. So we finished the champagne. COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK is Oregon Scientific. COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY are none at the moment. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: where do I put all the stuff from my office whilst I'm on leave? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: orkle. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week is lead sheet realizations. Only because I've seen 105 of them in the last week. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: Granny Smith apples. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK there actually is only one way to skin a cat. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 8. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: This page. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK are none. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 1. DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 9 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Perpetual Bermuda High. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Fiera Mcelwee. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Re: fomentation toiletware. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 8,225. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: But your heart will not oblige you. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: I didn't buy gas this week, but the station across from City Hall is up to $2.15. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE all of my imaginary friends, a misplaced modifier, a stamp with my picture on it, seventeen ways till Tuesday.

I have taught my last class until late August (big woo hoo there pardner), and still have a mammoth pile of grading to undertake before being scot-free sinks in. Indeed, I spent all of last evening poring through a pile of Fundamentals homework (how many ways are there to unfold the chords of "Christmas Time is Here"? Apparently, one) as well as a few early final exams, and still have today to plow through some stuff for first year theory. I very much did enjoy yesterday's very full plate, as it involved the one day per term when the teachers suck up to the students instead of the other way around. Yes, on Pass Out the Course Evaluations Day, it has become customary to feed the students goodies, and my part of that now ancient ritual was to buy 24 Dunkin Donuts, 100 Munchkins, a gallon and a half of orange juice, and plastic cups. Alas, since both Seung Ah's section and mine had to meet together owing to Seung Ah's Amsterdamian performance, the Theory 1 numbers were vast -- and they left mere skin and bones (such as is possible with doughnutware) for the fundamentals students. In both morning classes I passed out final take-home exams, fielded as many questions as I could, stood on the piano bench to appear taller (excuse me while I kiss the ceiling), and excused each class at least 30 seconds early. One student in fundamentals undertook enormous effort to compose "The Davy Song" using some rules taken from the "cow" handout, and we listened and watched the score on the screen. While meanwhile, I played some minuets past for the Theory students (who are already thinking forward to the spring).

After which I had to do a noon meeting to discuss the theory curriculum with my colleagues who teach it (since it's an odd-numbered year, we have to do these ancient rituals, alas, without doughnutware). Professor Keiler, who wishes to remain anonymous, was unable to make the meeting, but he pre-summarized it pretty well: nothing gets done at these meetings and they are a complete waste of time. But hey, I'd rather do that for an hour than clean sewers. Which is a pretty odd perspective. The rest of the day took me through undergrad composition and a long session with Max (and more importantly, Mingus), and a home arrival at dusk, at which time I had to renew a prescription, make dinner, and go through homework after homework after homework after homework after homework after homework after homework after homework after homework after homework after homework. Practically an orkle of fun.

Meantime, the gentle reader must be aghast (or a-gassed -- we now have helium at home and in the office) that it has taken until the third paragraph to bring up the weather. When last the intrepid reader (or gentle -- can't we be both?) encountered this space, a Northeaster was dumping exactly zero snow on the area, saving it for "the cape and the islands" (the most used phrase on news radio 1030) and the Atlantic Ocean (where's the Gulf Stream when we really need it?), and snow showers were predicted for Friday. Quickly, them what make upgraded the forecast to 3-6, no 6-10, no, 4-7 inches of snow and Weather Bug chirped merrily with every one of them. What actually followed was a truly magnificent storm the likes of which is rarely seen around here. Two storms merged right over us (them what make didn't say which was female and which was male), and for about two and a half hours there were severe whiteout conditions that I haven't seen here before (they were common in St. Albans). The whiteout wound down in 15 minutes to flurries and in another 5 minutes to a pretty orange and blue sunset and clear skies. Beff and I trudged outsidewards to rearrange nature's snow placement as it was winding down, and were quite taken with how it seemed to stop entirely in the time it took us to put on our boots.

I was pleased that the snowblower was able to start -- for the first time in ten months -- as rearranging nature's snow placement while protecting a hernia would have been not much fun. But first I snow raked (Hillary loves to do that) the garage and mud room roof before trundling up and down the driveway. I would like to report how much fun it was, but it actually wasn't. Though I guess it's always fun to add a layer of stuck snow to the porch and the trees that line the driveway. On Saturday morning I did an additional shovel of the flat roof over the sun porch and measured 14 inches of snow. Rare to have that much this early in the season. Last time we had this kind of storm (I was teaching theory 2 at the time) this early, we had ... no ... snow for the rest of the season. Well, actually, we had no storms big enough to require the big machinery. And three weeks after that storm it was 60 on New Years Day and I was taking pictures of prematurely budding plants at the Acton Arboretum. And Beff was trying to get a movie of a train arriving at West Concord. But this seems like a rather big sidebar.

On Sunday there was a lot of feverish time spent writing music for The Bacchae,and my sketch pages are now to about 10. I still have somre more character music to write, but a large part of the substance for future musical cues is just about done. My goal of getting it at least written, if not entered into Finale, by the time we leave for VCCA next Thursday seems possible. But first, more grading, and about 50 final exams to grade next week beginning Monday at noon.

And as usual, Beff and I did errand day, moved this week to Saturday because Friday we spent the day being fascinated by the storm. Well, actually, we walked downtown during the beginning of the storm and did minor errands, gave a bone to the dog at Maynard Door and Window, arranged to have the driveway and walkways done while we were gone, and got our boots snowy. Good thing we got that done before the whiteouts. Saturday we did Shaw's in order to use coupons and ended up doing a giant shop. I also managed to shovel the snow off of the mud room roof (more difficult because it slopes) because the guys at Maynard Door and Window said they'd come by and slather some tar on the join with the house, now that some moisture is getting in (they didn't).

On Wednesday I shopped at BJ's -- where I did find Inko's and got three 12-packs -- and got two helium canisters for the fun of it. I gave one to Carolyn The Ka-Ching for use in the office (it works) and one for at home (it works, but Beff needed several tries to do it without coughing). It's now back to workaday use for the helium, whatever that might mean. And at home, it's to the cellar for it. Lots of people wanted to let us know that helium can cause brain damage. So to counter that I made sure not to start smoking this week and not to have a conversation with a Republican. The latter doesn't actually cause brain damage, but it sure makes my brain hurt.

Ken and Hillary came over on Sunday for Buffalo wings (Neighborhood Pizzeria downtown), and we had great fun, especially after returning home and trying some Tuaca (our Amaro-substitute), and me getting to show funny stuff that's come onto the computer since the last time they were here in August. And we even played some of a Pink album. Whatever happened to Pink? Let's get this party started!

Meanwhile, I am kind of supposed to drive into and out of NYC for a quickie Speculum Musicae performance next Monday, and I don't know if I can do it -- the timing sort of sucks. The exams get collected at noon, the concert is at 8 (Merkin Hall), and the electricians arrive for their last hurrah at 7:30 on Tuesday morning -- like Cartman saying to Jesus on the South Park pilot: "your birthday is on Christmas? That sucks, dude." 20 years ago the biggest thing I wanted to happen to me professionally was to be performed by Speculum Musicae. This week the same thing unfortunately turns almost into a nuisance. But hey -- if you're in New York on the 19th and wonder what a piano trio movement called "Felinious Assault" sounds like, Merkin Hall is the place for you. And crap -- Aleck Karis (hey! both names have five letters!), Curt Macomber and Chris Finckel -- talk about the Mount Rushmore of piano trios (is that mixing metaphors or something?).

So there are very few plans for the week beyond Bacchaeness and grading. Lunch with Elaine Wong today, Carolyn the Ka-Ching does a Messiah Sing this afternoon that I can't make, and Big Mike the Ka-Ching comes for dinner on Friday to prepare him for cat doody duty while we are gone. Then Monday la merda batta il ventaglio. At some point in the next ten days, the hyper-extended phrase "I'm freeeeeeeeeee!" will escape my body. Until then, it won't.

I have a cute little movie of Sunny on the mud room roof just outside the computer room (see yellow text), parts of which are sped up. Of course, this week's pictures are overwhelmingly weathecentric. The whiteout as viewed from the front door followed by two shots of snowblower detritus: on the trees in the driveway and on the side porch. Then the sunset that followed the storm by about 10 minutes. Next, some snow slowly peeling off a telephone pole on Saturday, and the sign across from our house that unexplainably has clamp pliers clamped to it. Then Beff in line at Shaws, and Cammy discovering the dripping from the end of the radiator in the master bedroom.

DECEMBER 21. Breakfast this morning was orange juice and coffee. Dinner was champagne and some brown crackers with high-cholesterol spread. Lunch was salad and an excellent Tom Yum soup made from a jar. TEMPERATURE EXTREMES THIS LAST WEEK -1.3 and 43.0. MUSIC GOING THROUGH MY HEAD AS I TYPE THIS American Woman. LARGE EXPENSES this last week include an Apple keyboard at Comp USA, $31.49 including tax, a large paper cutter, ca. $180, and a $300 down payment for yet more work on the house (storm window for the computer room, vent for the bathroom fan, sealing for the mud room roof). POINTLESS NOSTALGIC REMINISCENCE: I took four graduate seminars with Milton Babbitt, the kind you love -- no papers to write. The seminar was essentially the same class with four different names: Orchestration, Advanced 12-Tone technique, History of Theory Since 1850, and Analysis. They were fascinating, and so rich with detail that I forgot everything within an hour of the class. One Bach chorale analysis was absolutely virtuosic. And I forgot that, too. COMPANIES WHO HAVE NOT COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY THIS WEEK is Staples. COMPANIES WHO HAVE COVERED THEMSELVES IN GLORY is Staples. This is not a contradiction. THIS WEEK'S COSMIC QUANDARY: where do the ashes that Beff sweeps into the little hole in the fireplace go? THIS WEEK'S MADE-UP WORD: slodge. THINGS I HAVE GROWN WEARY OF this week is urgent and pleading requests to extend deadlines that have been well known since September. RECENT GASTRONOMIC OBSESSIONS: Boca burgers and Real(tm) Pickles. DISCOVERY OF THE WEEK my music is not pretty. THIS WEEK'S NUMBER BETWEEN 1 AND 10: 4. REVISIONS TO THIS SITE: This page, bio page, Reviews 3. FRAGILE THINGS DESTROYED BY THE CATS THIS LAST WEEK are none. RECOMMENDATION AND PROFESSIONAL LETTERS WRITTEN THIS WEEK: 11. DAVY'S BAROMETER FOR THE FUTURE OF MUSIC this week is 21 out of 47. WHAT THE NEXT BIG TREND WOULD BE IF I WERE IN CHARGE: Oval office residents who have actually read the constitution. THIS WEEK'S FEATURED FAKE SENDER NAME IN A SPAM: Fiera Mcelwee. SUBJECT OF THAT SPAM: Re: fomentation toiletware. PHOTOS IN MY IPHOTO LIBRARY: 8,227. FEATURED FIONA APPLE LYRIC: Oh, you silly stupid pastime of mine. WHAT I PAID FOR GASOLINE THIS WEEK: $2.17 at the Exxon on Route 27 near the Ace Hardware. OTHER INANIMATE OBJECTS THAT WOULD BE A BETTER PRESIDENT THAN THE CURRENT ONE a magnifying glass, copy of the Constitution of the United States, all the different ways to spell "scrumpdillyicious", a downward trend.

Finished! I actually said that twice in the last eight days. The second time was about an hour before I posted this, meaning I finished my grading (1 pm Monday to 11 am Wednesday), posted the grades online, and filled out the required forms. I would have taken a picture of the pile of exams (51 of them) plus last-minute completed homework (some of it faxed), but that would have just been silly. And now to ... this update.

Last week's absence of having to teach was filled up by much homework to grade, but when that was finished I applied myself to the writing of the music for the Bacchae, and late on Saturday I got say "finished!" It turns out I was wrong. There is a LOT of music -- 33 pages of oblong two-system score paper -- and I didn't want the Lyds to have to learn a lot more, given what they are being paid. But later I decided that the scene where Pentheus's mother has Pentheus's head on a stick and thinks it's a goat's head needed some underscoring. So I will do that later. Meanwhile, there turned out to be (so far) 32 cues, some of them quite long, some of them quite short. Coryphaeus -- someone who emerges from the chorus to ask a few questions -- has bitonal major triads. I used all the tricks, you see. So on Sunday I started entering the music into Finale, and got the first 16 in. Then work interrupted, and I can go back to entering the music as soon as I finish typing this putrid thing. And I will, Oscar, I will.

So Monday morning I got to Brandeis at my accustomed 6:50 in order to enjoy the building while it was quiet, do some work, get the last stuff out of my office before I go on leave, etc. I had loaned my building and master keys to Derek Jacoby for his weekend recording session and was going to get them back that morning. But of course the building was locked and Derek had my key and I didn't know what number I should call to be let into the building. So I called the Brandeis number, which announced that its offices were closed, but I could reach campus police by dialing 9. Which I did, and the police guy barked "this is the emergency number. Call 6-5000 next time". And when I was freezing my fingers off while no one came, I did call that number. Same guy. Barked. "Didn't you call me already. It takes time for people to get there". The "conversation" was cut off before I could reel off my hundred or so replies that dripped with sarcasm. So good you won't want to miss a drop! So I did get let in and later I walked up to Brown to examine an AV cabinet that was proposed for 212 Slosberg. I took a picture of it with my cell phone and e-mailed it to Mark, who now is showing it to our own faculty. And when I got back, the exams piled up, though of course you can't trust students actually to read, on the exam itself, "Due at noon SHARP on Monday. Late exams will not be accepted." Of course, plenty were still not there when I left at 12:45. Aargh! On the way home I stopped at CompUSA to get an Apple keyboard simply to have the CLEAR key to use with the Power Book when entering notes in Finale during this colony hop. Really I did.

As I type this I see roofers at work on the house two houses to the west, and I kind of wonder what the point of doing roof work at this time of year is. Unless they are getting leaks, I guess. That explains the agitation of the cats yesterday afternoon from the sound of the snow being shoveled off of the roof. At the time I wondered what the point of shoveling snow off of a sloped roof was, but I need wonder no longer. You will never get back the 30 seconds it took to read this paragraph.

Not much of Friday was spent doing Bacchae music, as Beff and I were doing the usual important stuff and there was another significant storm -- this one freezing rain changing to all rain. Mainly, we spent time getting ready to be in Virginia until MLK Day. We have THREE house/catsitters lined up for our absence (Seung Ah, Big Mike (ka-ching!), Justin), and now there is plenty of the stuff they will eat -- they only like the Friskies shredded salmon and chicken cans, and they shun almost every other canned food -- and plenty of cat litter, etc. Shopping was a real joy, though I didn't realize that no one has plums this time of year. So I have peaches, and I actually like them. Don't you hate it when that happens?

I also had lunch with Elaine Wong on Friday at a place in Waban (not the Wed, Wed, Wed one) and we got such a variety of nouvelle entrees that we could have eaten to the point of explosion. Elaine took her leftovers home. I didn't. For those not in the know, Elaine is a Dean of Undergraduate something, but not an important enough Dean to have her own parking space. At one point she asked me how I became such a great teacher (a designation that made my brain go "ping"!) and I think my first response was, "I fold it in half". I'm not sure if she got, or needed to get, the reference.

The reason my dinner last night was champagne was that I got an e-mail from the Provost's secretary on Monday asking if I could meet the Provost to "talk about teaching" some late afternoon before classes started back up. I shared this premise with Beff, who speculated that I was getting a teaching award -- at which point I thought back to lunch with Elaine -- and I said, "oh crap, I would have to turn it down." "Why?" "Oh, I just don't think teaching is something that should be competitive. It's just what I do." "Well, you get awards for composition and you accept them. Isn't that also something you do?" Zing. So instead I told myself I was going to be invited to be on a University committee on teaching that meets eight hours every week and then goes to classes to observe and polls students on their reactions to teachers and writes long reports that take forever to get to the point. I was desperately hoping to be wrong.

So I went in to work yesterday for the Tuesday 4:30 appointment I had made, parked in the small Slosberg lot, said hi to Carolyn (ka-ching!), talked a bit to Max ("Why you here?" "Meeting" "Who?" "Provost." "Money?" "Dunno."), saw some of my colleagues looking at the AV cabinet picture on Mark's computer, and arranged the particles of dust on one of my bookcases. Then I walked to the Provost's office and was surprised to see several of my colleagues, who were recently looking at pictures of an AV cabinet, in the office. Yehudi arrived and I knew the jig was up. The door to the office opened, and there were the Provost and Dean, Elaine Wong, a bunch of my scores and CDs, a Brandeis envelope with my name on it, a bottle of champagne, and some expensive snacks. And what happened next felt like I was playing out a scene from "A Beautiful Mind."

A bunch of super-smiley faces surrounded me as I did the ritual of opening the envelope to read what was inside (I knew by now what it was going to say), and a little later I got some esprit d'escalier -- when the Dean asked, "so what do you think?" I should have said, "give me time. I'm still on the first word." But instead, I think I said, "Cool." Nobody gave me any pens like in that scene from A Beautiful Mind, but I did get a named Chair. As of about 4:33 yesterday afternoon I am the Walter W. Naumburg Professor of Composition, and Yehudi is the Walter W. Naumburg Professor of Composition Emeritus. What do I get out of it? Free stationery and the obligation to use that title when dealing with the media (apparently, including CD-Rs). And all the champagne I could drink in 30 minutes. The reader who has followed this space for the last fifteen or so months can savor the irony in the whole situation. So I drove home (yes, I stayed in my own lane), scanned the letter (which calls me "Davie" and says it's in recognition of my "scholarly accomplishments", among other things -- yes, it's a form letter, but at least it's not a foam letter) and e-mailed it to Beff. And now I guess I have to start wearing lifts. (Beware of Greeks wearing lifts!)

Meanwhile, other little dramas played out this week, not the least including the quest for a paper cutter I can use to trim 11x17 sheets down to 11x14 sheets. I did that with the parts to Dream Symphony, and there were a lot, and the cutter I have is only 12 inches wide. So the process of measuring 14-inch cuts was quite cumbersome, and it involved an external ruler. So Beff made it high priority to find me a good bigger one, and her father -- a retired architect who eats this kind of hardware for breakfast (and yet still has his own teeth) -- arranged to have one sent. It arrived and was ... 12 inches ... wide. And you can't fold it in half. So I drove to Staples to see what they could offer because the online catalog was pretty vague for paper cutters, and I looked in the Staples catalog, and there was one -- right there -- with the correct dimensions, which I ordered online on Friday. And it arrived on Monday and it is ... perfect!

I had also ordered mailing bags from Staples on the 6th, and the online webpage predicted a December 15 delivery. On the 20th it predicted a December 15th delivery (at last check, it still does) with the notation "Shipped from Warehouse. Click here for tracking information". Which says DEC 7: BILLING INFO RECEIVED. Three calls to Staples were required to confirm that -- it never shipped. Though my credit card was charged on the 16th (Beethoven's birthday). Staples offered to resubmit the order for delivery around December 30 (when we will be in Virginia), and I asked if traditionally the point of ordering stuff online was that you order it, pay for it and it gets delivered. So I politely asked not to reorder. And at last check, the Staples guy's statement that "your credit card has been refunded" turns out to be false. So there you go: the Janus that is Staples.

My piano trio was done on a Speculum Musicae concert on Monday and of course I couldn't go -- especially given the transit strike -- and it is reviewed in today's New York Times. Dudes and dudettes, the news is -- I ain't pretty. Especially the moment I wake up/Before I put on my makeup.

So on Friday we drive to Burke, Virginia to stay with the Lieutenant Colonel Colburn family overnight, after which we do the 3-hour drive to the VCCA on those lovely rolling Virginia Hills. The part I do NOT look forward to is that short stretch of malls, etc. in Charlottesville you have to drive through, and on the Saturday before Christmas. Beff will hear a lot of "I hate this..." and be saying a lot of "Now, now." And by lunchtime I will return to my other life, that of -- composer. Which is cool, 'cause I still get to be the Walter W. Naumburg Chair of Composition. Chair and Chair alike. Indeedy.

Beff, of course, wants me to mention that we did our usual Friday morning walk downtown, and that was during a heavy rain falling on top of what had been freezing rain, so just using the sidewalk was a major adventure, especially given that the first 500 feet of the walk is downhill. On our return, we vowed to do the alternate route via what we call the "Harley Bridge", but an enormous puddle blocked us from doing that. Unsurprisingly, when we got back, we were soaked.

And -- excitement of excitements -- the house is finally completely rewired. Electricians were here 7:30 to 11:00 yesterday bringing more circuits up to code and plastering ugly holes that we've been looking at for months. Alas, they did not completely plaster where they should have under the lights in the sun porch, but I guess that's okay. And there's a quad outlet next to the sink instead of a bi with a threefer extension (this may be the first time in history that sentence was uttered in the English language).

There are two new movies up there for your enjoyment -- yet another example of how the cats react when I say "Treats," and a nice one of Cammy in the bathroom sink craving affection. I was Bacchae-busy this week, so not many photos were taken. By me. Just the way we discovered Sunny in the sleeping bag in the guest room on Friday morning, and an old picture of the Ka-Ching twins on the day of the Big Rake. Big Mike is actually reading a medieval manuscript, while Carolyn makes fun of his shirt.

Next update: January 17, 2006, including the pictures of the year review. And a big YO to my homeys in Chicago, as I will be there January 18 to 21.