By: Blonde One
Tonight was the night that the Blonde One family go to church for the annual Carol Service. It’s always a lovely service and it is much anticipated. This year got me thinking about the benefits of singing. Little Miss Blonde is an excellent singer and has sung in some amazing places: Brussels Cathedral to name just one. She has long tried to convince me that singing is her ‘Dartmoor’. What Dartmoor does for my mental health, singing does for hers. I had this in mind at church this evening and began to see what she meant, although it will never beat Dartmoor for me. It does give you a real ‘feel good’ feeling, especially singing a well known Christmassy hymn. Blonde Two relieves her fears by singing: often she will burst into song when we are on a night walk and she has even been known to sing when I am driving! I could hear Little Miss Blonde sounding beautiful next to me this evening, I could hear the couple behind me also sounding pretty good, I could hear the little girl across the aisle sounding really cute. Unfortunately I don’t think I was up to the standard of these people. I only really sing out loud at church or in the car. In the car I can convince myself that Little Miss Blonde gets all her talent from me and that I surely am at least on a par with Céline Dion! If I turn the music up loud enough, I can’t actually hear myself sing in the car but in church there is no such easily accessible volume button: unfortunately I can hear myself quite clearly … and it’s not pleasant! I have spent the last hour since we got home silently feeling sorry for the family in the pew in front of me and making a vow to all the people in the parish to not sing out loud next year.
I promise I will just mouth the words in future and give everyone a ‘silent night’.
I shall start your singing training as soon as you start my drinking training. They should go well together!
Funnily enough that’s the only time I am an amazing singer: when I’ve had a glass of wine or two!!!
No, no, no – must sing !! Only by doing it will you become a sizzling soprano or an amazing alto . In our school, we didn’t worry about being in tune – only about taking part – the rest comes! Just like walking on Dartmoor. If you can’t manage sop or alto, maybe you are a turbulent tenor?
Was playing for our 9 lessons ‘n’ carols tonight – on the piano, cos we had to abandon the church and our lovely old organ. The car parking field was flooded. But we had nearly a hundred in the village hall and it was fun. Mulled wine and mince pies afterwards.
Sounds lovely! You’ve hit the nail on the head: if only carols were an octave lower!
Then be a man, my daughter!
(I can never resist singing both parts in “Good King Wenceslas”, being one of those lucky altos who can also sing tenor [well sortof])
Happy singing Christmas, one and all
B1, I get fewer opportunities, must grab them as they come down the pike. Our kitchen is large and has the best acoustic in the house – no fitted carpets. As I enter it the urge to sing is now automatic, the choice eclectic: cockeyed hymns (Ye servants of the Lord/Each in his office wait. Office?), high faluting stuff (La ci darem la mano). Go for it. Ach, I gotta go. And I’m barely into my stride. Sing and feel your heart beat.
What a beautiful phrase Roderick: sing and feel your heart beat! Perhaps I will.