outWORD by Matte Downey

I love to sing. Not everyone loves to listen to me, but I have always loved to sing. I started to play the piano around the age of 5, and was soon improvising and writing my own simple melodies to sing and to play. The ability to hear and sing different harmonies was encouraged by a musical grade school teacher and ever since then, I have preferred the tension and sweetness of two or three voices to one. I sang second soprano throughout high school and college, that middle voice that is often the hardest to identify in a musical piece, but the one that is in the closest proximity to the other voices. On occasion, I was thrust into the soprano role, just because I could hit the notes, even if they were a bit on the light and airy side. I never had much strength in my singing voice, and this frustrated me as well as various musicians and soundmen who had to compensate for my lack of volume. I always wished that I had more power in my singing voice. In some ways, it seemed so different fr...

Things pile up. Snow. Troubles. Meetings. Appointments. Garbage. Dirt. That's just life. This week I have activities 6 nights in a row and am stealing a few moments just before I leave for home group to write something here and eat a delayed lunch. I have not cleaned my house in 12 days (don't jump to conclusions, the cat litter is still scooped out daily). My car developed a strange noise last week which resulted in two lengthy trips to the mechanic and many an insightful but unplanned hour spent reading in the garage waiting room. More inspectors and my builder tracked through my house snapping pictures of all things crooked and cracked. I did two airport runs and will do another one in 3 days. I had my supposed-to-be-annual trip to the doctor where I gave him samples of bodily fluids and let him poke and prod me (everything in excellent shape, he told me). It was a snowy day so the nurse doing the blood tests was stuck in her driveway and the doctor had to do the needlework ...

Despite a snow storm of epic proportions yesterday, Dean and I decided (mostly Dean) to go ahead with our plans for the day. We bought shoes for Dean (pretty much the only customers in the store), stopped by to pick up a friend and then went out to dinner downtown, our window table offering views of snowplows and people on their cross country skis passing by on the city sidewalk. After that we caught the subway and headed off to a swing club to learn some new moves and have some fun. The band that was supposed to play that night never made it, but the club manager cranked up the cd's and the group of 20 or so had a great time. The dance instructor said he was going to dance with every lady there that evening if they were up for it, so I allowed him to twist and turn and vault me around the dance floor while I giggled with delight. I have only had three beginner dance lessons but he made me look good. We got back to our car and started the long drive home which Dean saw as more of ...