This morning I’m numbering the measures of the music we’re playing at our next concert. Which happens to be Friday, March 13th in case you need to put it in your calendar.

It’s our dinner fundraiser, where you pay to attend but we give you food and a silent auction in addition to a full concert. As soon as tickets are available I’ll let you know. Last year (our first) we sold out, so don’t delay!

For your listening pleasure this year we’ll be doing show tunes. And that’s why numbering measures is giving me fits. Because as I’m counting along my mind starts to wander into the music. Then I start to hum and then I tend to mis-number the measures which defeats the whole purpose.

The first two pieces, Les Mis and Grease each had 216 measures! What are the odds of that?

I completed about half the music this morning, until my eyes were going bad and I was secretly glad when a certain fuzzy short member of the family poked me in the leg asking to go outside.

Good timing, my girl. Good timing.