beryl and bach

a canine perspective

Unless the leap is a metaphor?

It’s hard to tell with this human; she does get confused when switching from task to task.

On the one paw she tries to be mindful of every moment (this is excellent because she stays put). On the other, she seems to feel she needs to keep track of everything—swivel from pencil to quill¹ to concertina to knitting needles to keyboard to bean pot to telephone and back—lest any of them fall by the wayside for a second. And that entails endless jumping up and down for me; no sooner am I settled to one thing than she’s off to the next.

Luckily once in a while I get to live the dream: monitor human and squirrel activity at the same time.

It rarely lasts, but I’m getting better at engineering these situations.

Slip a couple of guard hairs into the weft and she pauses to pick them out—then stays to tap in a few rows.

Thoroughly corral the balls of knitting yarn—and she keeps clicking her needles.

It’s a big job as I’m sure you know—but someone has to do it.

And grand though it would be, life isn’t all walks in the woods.

Doesn’t stop me from being hopeful though!

When we delivered the big concertina to its maker to be tuned and serviced—it was a little flat—

—I was pretty sure there would be more time for quiet meanders.

She’s all about up and down and down and up and down and across, after all.

But alas, without the baritone to take up all the room she went and fell back in love with her 1907(ish) treble concertina which is an entire octave higher.² Yowza. My poor ears.

She only stopped playing it when…the competition arrived…

Guess I should have known something was afoot when she started to bake.

Yes, cake crumbs are delicious, and yes, there are many more to be had when you hang out under a high chair—even if you have to share.

But still. This is my place.

Luckily (and despite my fears), they didn’t move in forever. But who can tell from all the stuff?

In fact I was so relieved that I was extra helpful when we went to fetch the big concertina.

It does sound better.³ Easier on my ears than the treble anyway.

Apparently she’s trying to learn this Bach thing by heart and has an idea that playing for a bit then twisting milkweed while the notes settle into her brain is the way to go about it.

Personally I think it’s bunk, memorization-wise. But it keeps her in one place and apparently makes the milkweed fibers last longer.

And since her gathering season⁴ is now over and the supply finite, she’s trying to savor every strand.

Whatever it takes to keep her focused and still, you know? At least for a little while.

The visitor dogs told me that this is her first autumn in years without a beloved someone’s imminent death or birth to keep her constantly alert—

—so they think it’s my job (as if I didn’t know), to remind her that weaving and knitting the entire world together is still a big old task—

— and that she simply hasn’t the hand strength to do it all at once just now. Like the Bach and the milkweed, work with what you have. And slow and easy is the way to go.⁵

Off-leash walks aside, of course. Duh.

Anyway —thanks for letting me write today.⁶

It’s tiring and awkward, but it frees up Sarah to drink tea and stare at the colors of dead leaves while I work. Not as interesting as squirrels, but you know— whatever floats your boat.⁷

Happy Halloween!

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1. weaving quill that is, though a person could draw with one of the other kinds.

2. (Sarah here for the footnotes): Leveret is an English band I adore, and they’ve just come out with a book of all their tunes, both traditional and composed. And since Rob Harbron plays the English Concertina, the tunes sound great on my instruments and are usually blissfully playable—e flat major, bring it on!

Yes, tunes stick better in my head if I can learn them by ear rather than from the dots, but what’s not to love about practicing a little sight reading too. One of the fun parts about having an instrumental hobby is that I can massive pleasure out of the tiniest things and no one else ever has to see or hear me!

3. My adult musical life began with the cello when I was 45, so I particularly love how the Bach Cello Suites sound on baritone concertina. The G major is actually the only one I’ve worked on and I play it in D (as a fiddle would) rather than G since the baritone is a fifth up from a cello, but who cares (see footnote above). I’ve been working on the Sarabande

Oh, and my baritone concertina was made by Wim Wakker of Concertina Connections. It’s the instrument of a lifetime for sure.

4. It’s probably perfectly possible to work with the late fall/dry milkweed by soaking and retting etc etc, but because ki is a wild plant it somehow feels more polite (or just way way easier), to let nature do her thing and gather when the plants are willing to easily let the fibers go (late summer for green/white and early spring for winter retted). On the other hand, maybe I’m just a bit lazy and have made up this reason as a way to build in a pause so other fibers get a turn?

5. Ktog is a drawing I did a number of years ago (one of those other times that felt particularly dire and we were all inundated with information). At the time I hand made a few stickers and gave them to friends, but I’d love to figure out a way to easily share it more widely. Any thoughts/suggestions?

6. (Beryl here )—Sarah finally did some research and found out I’m not just any old Australian Cattle Dog, but an extra special Australian Stumpy Tail Cattle Dog. This accounts for my long legs and the lack of brown on my face and chest. It also means that no one cut my tail off. I was born with this little beauty. Yay!

7. Can’t resist adding a link to this little halloween/autumnal/boat/coracle-centric video that Gisela shared in last week’s comments. Cuz—silliness is so heartening.