Scroll for Noble Bird the Bard

When the mead of poetry falls upon dumb lips, the tongue lay now silvered. Sweet rhapsody resonates, flowering from what was once small buds, fragment gardens. Firey passion and never hesitation from the spirit. As a nightingale sings so does our beautiful azure songbird. They grace us with music, poetry, performance from dawn till dusk and never do they falter. Today, we the people and landed Baron and Baroness, Rowen and Suba, do see it fit to bestow this honor upon the muse amongst us by inducting them into the order of the (insert) at Pennsic

Text by Lady Solveig Bjarnardottir

Silver Wheel for Juliote de Castlenou D’arry

She bestows her gifts with a generous hand;
Pausing not for toil and pain for those she keeps silent
Chronicler, wrangler
Weary not through the heat of summer as she serves all ,
Weary not through the cold spring rain as she sings;
But wait till the autumn comes
For the sheaves of golden grain sifted tirelessly for she lives as a warden.
Scatters the seed, and asks not for recognition
So we are moved to do this, We, the East, choose to recognize her this day. We Ivan and Mathilde, Tzar and Tazrina do induct Juliote de Castlenou D’arry into the Order of the Silver wheel on October 28, Anno Sociotatis 52 at The Harvest Festival

The Closing of the Inn- Coldwood

Brrrrr … it’s cold outside

Or rather, not at all. This was an unseasonably warm Coldwood. I would say it’s named for the season and such, but it happens to be named for the shire it is hosted in.

This would prove to a more lax weekend for me, but c’monnnnn campfires and bonfires every 50 feet. This is a Skald’s paradise.

One of the things I am working on as a Skald is to not hesitate to share my music as long as it is welcomed. I had a previous conversation with Her Royal Highness, Matilde back at GNEW. It was clear that she appreciated classical music and vocalists in general. I challenged myself to not wait to be beckoned for a performance. Saturday afternoon, after I had completed fencing for the day (It was 80+ out), I shambled… well, wandered over carefully to EK royal and made a stiff upper lip. There was no backing down now. I took a knee (Not the football style) and asked if in about 30 minutes if she would care for a song. She happily obliged.

30 minutes later, after cleaning up and looking less like a schlep, I wandered back over. It was exactly 30 minutes later. Never keep a princess waiting and as a musician I was trained to never be late. Alack, Alas! The princess had wandered away to manage a personal matter. No matter. I would take matters into my own hands… well I’d wait patiently. I wandered off to spend time conversing with the other fencers until she returned. After she had a few moments to settle down, I made my way back over.

This was it! I offered up my song. I opened my mouth and let the music pour from me. When the piece was over, I was greeted with a welcoming hug, a thank you and a token. I don’t think I had had ever been this warmly thanked for a song. This, was most gratifying, not as a bard, but as a human to another human. Music is a very dear thing to me. You could see that her highness had been moved and she shared that gift with me back.

I would say that this was the end of my successes, but that would be a fib. That evening, Tearlach shared a great story about the cow that wouldn’t die. Folks were still gathered around the bonfire and it appeared they were looking for entertainment. I against, poured out another song. I only expected to sing one piece and then leave. I was beckoned to sing more. From time to time, I also sat next to her excellency, Jocelyn, from Stonemarche, and would serenade her privately. I then finished a personal request to new friends made.

It doesn’t seem like a super exciting story, but it’s starting to appear that my SCA dreams are coming true. People are asking me to sing and I am aware enough to read my audience. This is a great accomplishment and step in my journey.

Winter Nights

Those suuuuummmerrr….NIGHTSSSSSSSS *singing to the tune of Grease*

 

Hello friends and welcome to another edition of Solveig needs to stop traveling and competing so much. I am your host, very sleep deprived and messy housed Solveig. This weeks edition is a special one. This episode has nothing but bards in it (ok, and a few viewers).

Back at the Feast of St. Nicholas in Queen Elizabeth’s Court, Drake Oranwood had described to me this as an all day/night bardic challenge called Winter Nights. He spoke of this sweet sweet armband he got to wear for a year and the circulating location of this event. It had started as a Concordia only event, but had grown larger. This event, however, was not typical to most bardic competition. This one would almost require you to have access to your coveted book of all things bardic. On top of that, you would be issued a challenge and would issue a challenge every round.  This would be a new way for me to meet new Bards as well as stretch myself.

Drake had reached out to me prior, asking if I could assist with gate, so I arrived early anticipating that I would be providing assistance. Luckily, when I arrived, that was all managed so I didn’t have to leave the secret not so secret bard lounge. The atmosphere was filled with Drake noodling on his new toy, chatting of new bards meeting one another and then anxiety of trying to figure out the sign up format and the grading system. We would all be judging. Hooray for rotating judges!

Although I had introduced myself to several new faces, ADOS (Attention Deficit OOH SHINY) over a fancy piece of weaving, I cuddled myself into familiar bare feet. I was second on the roster to perform my first piece (which was our choice). I pulled out a familiar favorite of mine as most of these folks had never heard me sing it. I sang it well and as per the challenge, described what kind of a Skald I was.  To date, I believe this was my best performance of this piece yet, despite the yellow liquid trickling down my leg and boy… was the air dry *cough cough* is it hot in here?

Each of the performers one by one displayed their array of interesting styles. I was quickly feeling intimidated. I was so used to being a big fish in a small pond. It was awe inspiring but it also kicked me down a few pegs.

The second round I was issued my first opposition challenge by a familiar face I had met at crown. Lorita spoke of how she had observed me constantly making the audience laugh. She asked me to make the audience cry. I gladly accepted that challenge. Her challenge from me was to perform a piece not using her own words.

For my challenge I chose the Irish folk piece of lover’s loss, “Turtledove”. It was somber, slow and beautiful. I wish I had chosen a better key to sing it in. Hindsight. Lorita did an incredible job of telling a story (which she informed me afterwords, was originally a song) of an angry woman cursing  the populace as they would make a pregnant woman run. Her emotions evocative, her timing, impeccable and her facial expressions were solid.

For my final challenge, I was paired with Grimm/Grym Skald. I panicked to think of a challenge for this story telling/poetic giant. His work was far surpassing of my own and I often wondered how I could challenge him. I though, very Winnie the Pooh style and contemplated how I could even put a small obstacle in his way. It then dawned on me that I had never heard him sing.  I asked my barefooted co-skald if that was a thing Grym could do and they affirmed as such. I asked Grym to sing and he asked me not to sing. I was prepared. I had not 1 but 2 stories I could pull out this time.  Which one? GYAH!

After deliberation, I pulled out the piece that had more refinement to it and played with the audience.  The timing was much better than the last time I performed it, better response times from the audience and much shorter.  This was some of the feedback I had received from the King’s previous bard (from K and Q) as well as a few peers. Still not perfect yet, but it’s a work in progress.

The end of the event, we had some open bardic before the winner was announced. I sang a contrafact/filk which I hadn’t performed for the public, as well as Drake’s “We are the East” (Which, to that date, he had never heard another human sing his piece for him). Peregrin the Illuminator was named the winner of the day and my god, his grapes were the best grapes. (he had been challenged to Illuminate the grapes and as well write a dirty/lusty/raunchy/sexy piece… which he took his first piece and wrote a new perspective on it).

The other two performances which truly stuck out to me were Cedar san Barefoot’s piece where they wrote themselves into a “Norse” piece where Loki had to get them to wear shoes and Douglas Doan’s constant use of staircase jokes and box myths. I will never look at staircases and boxes the same way again.

As we packed up for the evening, I was stopped by Toki (of whom I had never met prior to this day, but apparently had created this event many moons ago). He presented me with his token. I was humbled because as the day had progressed I had heard much about him.  I thanked him graciously and thanked him for his patronage.

A few days later I had connected with Toki on the Visage of Tomes and we had a several hour conversation. To me, I think a new mentoring relationship/friendship was born an I am deeply grateful for this opportunity.

 

Image may contain: 4 people, people sitting, table and indoor

 

 

 

King and Queens Bardic Competition

Hit me with your best shot!

It was time for me to put on my big bard… big skald? Pants and go out head to head… neck to neck.. Voice to voice with the best that the east kingdom had to offer. Fuzzy hat? Check! Brooches! (or as some call them, nipple shields)? Czech… I mean CHECK! Documentation? 2 pages…. Check! Repertoire? Checkkkkkkk.

Lets back up a little bit. The week prior to the event, several of my friends, peers, peerfriends had asked if I was competing in King and Queens Bardic competition. I’d frequent statements like, “Oh, it’s too far” or “I’m not good enough” or even “I didn’t know … I got nothin’”. Finally, it was 5 days prior to the event, when I somehow got swindled into competing and agreed. I sent in my email of intent to compete… a whopping 4 hours before the deadline.

The Friday before the event, I drove to Lady Olivia’s abode and realized.. ACK! I had forgotten my documentation on my desk at work. Thank goodness I has a smart and save all my documentation in cloud form. The new task was making sure her printer actually did a thing. A bottle of mead later, we had a working printer and mostly legible documentation.

The day of the event, I wandered lost, gripping my styrofoam cup of milk of gods… dunkin doughnuts coffee in one hand and the other clung to an eggwhite sandwich. I wandered the beautiful venue, gathering myself and aimlessly looking to where troll was. I maybe knew a few familiar faces, but the queen and kings bards were not amongst them. I eventually stumbled on them.

As I anxiously waited for the competition to begin, I was blessed to have more familiar faces there on site. Lady Ada happened to have a fidget cube which she sacrificed for me to calm my nerves. The time had come and my name was called for my first piece. I started by speaking about the piece itself, the translation literal than poetic and then made a -just barely- off color joke. I think the audience received this well. Racing through my head, hidden behind my pleasant facade, was thoughts of “Oh, Viking persona… how well can she sing?” “Oh, she told a joke… she must be compensating”. Even the king himself looked distracted and less than interested at the moment.  It was time, I opened my mouth and the room seemed to lull into a hush. My heart stopped at the end of the cadenza when the applause filled the room. Almost immediately after the first round was over, several individuals approached me with tokens. I was astounded. I have never received more than one at a time at an event, ever. I thanked everyone graciously for their tokens and then wandered into the A and S display to calm my mind a little bit.

Image may contain: 1 person, standing, closeup and indoor

Round 2, fight! It was time to announce of the 16 competitors, who could be moving on. My name was called as one of the last few announced and my heart hit the floor in gratitude. Now it was time to regain my composure for round 2. I had a stories prepared to show that I was more diverse than just a vocalist. Albeit, I only have 1 story to tell, but damnit I am going to tell it.

Image may contain: 6 people, hat

I approached as my name was called, and called for the biggest, bravest individuals in the audience to join me. Let’s face it, we bards are hams. I had about 9-10 folks join me. I left their participation description to the end and informed the audience of their parts in my story. Again, fighting the urge to self deprecate myself in my own mind I pushed on. The story roared for about 13 minutes (4 minutes longer than I had planned) and again, a thunderous applause.

Wise guy remarks were dropped to me from the Prince afterwards and I felt good about myself. The final 4 were to be announced, but my name had not been called. That was ok. I felt good about my work. Another several individuals approached me and presented me with tokens, and two more had IOUs for me. The King himself was amongst those who had presented me with their token. I was in shock and awe. I’ll take it!

I approached the current reigning bards for feedback so I’d be ready for next year. I was told my documentation was spot on, my vocal performance was stellar, but my story was too long. I was however, told that I was a fantastic story teller. They asked me if I had more, to which I said, “No, this is my one and only, which I have only performed 2 times prior”. I was encouraged to continue singing and of course storytelling.

 

This may have not made me KIng or Queen’s bard, but I went home a winner!

Winterfeast

Fa la la, fus roh da

Who’s smart idea was it to let the bard autocrat an event? Who’s smart idea was it to let the Viking bard autocrat an event? Vikings are known for pillaging, ravaging, and burning, not planning, and organizing, and decorating!

However, this Viking likes food. And I had an awesome kitchen staff. Despite all the hare in the stew.

I spent months planning my first event {Trust me, she did, it’s all she would talk about at fencing practice. (Shut up, Karen!)}  And I never took for granted how much work the autocrats put into their events, big or small. I had excel spreadsheets, checklists, and lists for my excel-lists and checksheets. No, wait.

And best of all, the best deputy a Viking could ask for. My deputy found my masterful feastocrats, and also helped to find the perfect location. I didn’t just want this event to be delicious, I wanted the atmosphere to feel like home. If home had servers. And live music. And dancing. And games. And a silent auction. And room to seat 120.

Oh, and two surprise guests I couldn’t even imagine would grace my small event. But that comes later.

Before I had even submitted my bid. I made sure I had beat all my ducks into submission, and they were all in a neat row. I had lined up all my volunteers, and had my menu planned, and waited several weeks anxiously to find out my bid had been accepted.

Once everything had been lined up, I had about a month and a half to complete everything on my checklists. Everything fell into line easily, almost like I had planned it to. Until two weeks prior to the event…

Dun dun DUUUUUUN!

I had received a message on the Tome of Visages from Astrid, head retainer for their Royal Highnesses. “Hey Solvieg, Guess who’s coming to visit?”

I don’t know, Batman and Robin?

Good guess, but think a little bit fancier. With pointy hats.

Batman and Robin putting on a Statue of Liberty cosplay?

Close, but still no cigar.

Their Highnesses!

*insert cursing in my brain*

My heart began to palpate. What are you supposed to do to royalty? Or is it *with* royalty? Do I also have to dress up fancy and wear a floofy dress? Gosh darn it, I don’t wanna! You can’t make me!

The realization that the event was a week and a half away, and I don’t know what to do with royals or where to put them, or even where they went on my excel sheets, I did what any insane person would do: reach out to my 50 closest friends who had run events before, and ask for their sagest knowledge. And when that didn’t cut it, alcohol suggestions.

I was blessed with copious suggestions, and my mind was put at ease.

Hooray! The day of the event!

Wait, what is all this white stuff?! Why is it snowing?!

Because it’s January in Maine. Gah.

Thanks to the presence of our Royals, the event was sold out before the doors even opened. I had more volunteers than I knew what to do with for set up. And more kept coming. The hall was beautiful, filled with everything from garlands to banners of personal arms. We even glitter bombed their Highnesses chairs (thanks Karen! {My pleasure! His Highness said I gave him craft herpes, hehe!})

The fragrance of fine food filled the air. (<– see, I made alliteration work this time!) And I had just enough servers for the tables, even with Karen bouncing in and out of the kitchen as needed. We even had a small court, thank goodness for no set up. The removes rolled in, and empty dishes rolled out. Between removes, the Malagentian Bardic Players even performed. When there were no Malagentian Bardic Players performances, solo bards got up to do their own. Some I had pre-arranged, and some were a surprise. I felt almost empty, not having performed up to that point. It was my duty to make sure the event kept running smoothly, however, my deputy advised me that for five minutes, the event would be under control with me {Oh, what a liar!} (Shut up Karen!). She encouraged me to get up and sing, and so I did just that. I performed one piece by myself, and then an improvised duet with a friend.

{Karen even got up with the same friend and sang The Feast Song with her! And Karen doesn’t sing in public!}

As the night came to a close, their Highnesses presented me each with their tokens, which were the first ones minted of their reign. On top of that, the numbers were run for the event, and we made a $750 profit {on an event that usually loses money! Wow!}, and a $450 donation to the Riding of Ravensbridge through the Silent Auction.

The snow continued to fall, though my wonderful volunteers stuck around to help break down the event. I think I made it home in one piece. I didn’t leave site until 11:30. I don’t remember how I got home, I just remember crawling into bed and sleeping until noon the next day. What an exhausting and wonderful experience. The cherry on the sundae was receiving from many individuals about how much they loved the variety of bardic performances throughout the evening. 8.5 out of 10, would definitely consider running again, in a few years at least. As long as it’s not a last minute Royal Progress…

 

Image may contain: 4 people, people smiling, indoor

The Birth of Ravensbridge

This piece was composed for the the incipient shire of Ravensbridge. They has put forth a challenge to compose a Song/Story/Poem about their inception. This was my response. Recording to come.

The Birth of Ravensbridge- By Sölveig Bjarnardottir

Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge

Trapped between rivaling nations we stand
This place was not home, no not on this land
Together as people the plain that we spanned
to make a home not written in sand

Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge

We searched for a center, a place to call home
Two strongholds that stood, both we did roam
Endewearde, headland of swords north fair
Malagentia lit South, by the light of Sif’s hair

Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge

Our men speared-din worn, our people lost drive
‘til an outstretched arm lent our kinsman to thrive
A spot between moon and shield to be shown
Our wound-hoe, blood-ember and arms soon to be grown

Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge

Nameless the many who wandered are we
A name and an image we’re proud to be seen
In honor of friends and this place that we stand
The Raven and Bridge is our chosen brand

Down by the swan-road we soar on the wing
and from our hearts a song we did sing
Over the mountains it rang o’re the ridge
about the birth of Ravensbridge

Endewearde Hunt

Oh, I wish I was an Endeweardian…

I wanted to shoot things. I heard the Hunt was a good place to learn. There were several Grand Master Bowman who usually attended this event, since Endewearde was known for producing very talented archers. Must be because they’re up north in Maine, and have all those trees and squirrels to shoot at 😛

I need to make note of my traveling companions, only because I bounced ideas off of them. I traveled up with Sir Marcus, and Jan {pronounced Yan}. We spent the day passing between us bows and crossbows. I watched the Woods Walk and Target Archery, not feeling competent enough yet to try my hand at either. It grew dark soon after, and we stuck around for the delicious potluck feast. I was in awe of all the feats I had seen that day, and it struck me how much of a passion I had for wood and fletching and all their pointy glory.

On the two hour ride home, I was conversing with Sir Marcus and Jan, and was upset at the lack of songs written about archers, at least that I was aware of. I was determined to compose one. When that conversation passed, the conversation of a Harper’s Past and a 12-part Bohemian Rhapsody had arisen. Then, like a brick to the head, it hit me. I knew what I had to do. Frantically phrases rushed into my brain; I hit record on my phone, and began capturing all the snippets I could manage. Here’s the final product:

 

Bow-Hemian Rhapsody- Filk by Lady Sólveig Bjarnardóttir

Is this the field life
Is this just practicing
Caught up with scoring
No escape from targetry

Open your eyes
Look up at the prize and see
I’m just a bow boy, I need no armoring
because its aim it high, aim it low
Shoot the arrow, at a foe
Any way the wind blows, sorta really matters to me, to me

Yeoman, just straddled the line
Knocked a bolt onto my bow
loose the string now its a go
Yeoman, rounds have just begun
and now you’ve gone and fired them all away
Yeoman, oooo
Didn’t mean to make you cry
But some times Grandmaster bow men win them all
Loose on, loose on, as if scoring doesn’t matter

Too late, my fletching’s gone
Sent pointies down the line
Skimmed the petticote sometimes
Goodbye everybody, i’ve got to go
It’s time to pack my tackle and head to court

Marshall, oooo
I just wanna rank
More than just bowman once again

I see the little silouette of a deer
Let it fwoosh, let it fwoosh
Do you see the arrow flying
Thunder camp is frighting, with sword and boards a fighting
Little bow man, Little bow man
Little bow man, Little bow man
Little bowman – Bullseye

I’m just a bow boy, no swords point at me
He’s just a bow boy, from a bow family
Spare me your gripes and your pomposity

Pull it back, let it go, till the martial calls a hold

We’ve lost the tip! We always lose the tip. (Not the tip!)
We’ve lost the tip! We always lose the tip. (Not the tip!)
We’ve lost the tip! We always lose the tip. (Not the tip!)
We always lose the tip. (Not the tip)
Yes we always lost the tip
Always lose the tip,
Bow. bow, bow, bow, bow bow bow

Oh, mama mia, mama mia (Mama mia, loose the bow.)
Your majesty has a medal put aside for me
For me
For me!!!!


Crossbows think they can sit there and steal the bullseyes
Mundanes think they can stroll past the field line alive!

Oh Baby!
Get off the field baby!
You gotta get out
You gotta get right out of here

Archers really matter
Anyone can see
Archers really matter to me

Anyway the wind blows

Bow-Hemian Rhapsody, The first attempt at a filk.

This was my first attempt at a filk… ever. The story of this is a few fold over. I was coming back from an event called, “The Endewearde Hunt.” This is an archery focused event. I so so inspired by the talent and skill that I had seen that day. I also had decided that I didn’t think there were enough songs about archers. I was discussing with my travel companions about previous event in which before things were serious and after camp had been set up that we all broke out into “Bohemian Rhapsody”. It had then struck me, Bohemian Rhapsody.. Bow-Hemian Rhapsody. I was inspired as my light bulb turned on. Thus I feverishly began to jot down lyrics and thus, this was born.

Bow-Hemian Rhapsody- Filk by Lady Sölveig Bjornadóttir

Is this the field life

Is this just practicing

Caught up with scoring

No escape from targetry

Open your eyes

Look up at the prize and see

I’m just a bow boy, I need no armoring

because its aim it high, aim it low

Shoot the arrow, at a foe

Any way the wind blows, sorta really matters to me, to me

Yeoman, just straddled the line

Knocked a bolt onto my bow

loose the string now its a go

Yeoman, rounds have just begun

and now you’ve gone and fired them all away

Yeoman, oooo

Didn’t mean to make you cry

But some times Grandmaster bow men win them all

Loose on, loose on, as if scoring doesn’t matter

Too late, my fletching’s gone

Sent pointies down the line

Skimmed the petticote sometimes

Goodbye everybody, i’ve got to go

It’s time to pack my tackle and head to court

Marshall, oooo

I just wanna rank

More than just bowman once again

I see the little silouette of a deer

Let it fwoosh, let it fwoosh

Do you see the arrow flying

Thunder camp is frighting, with sword and boards a fighting

Little bow man, Little bow man

Little bow man, Little bow man

Little bowman – Bullseye

I’m just a bow boy, no swords point at me

He’s just a bow boy, from a bow family

Spare me your gripes and your pomposity

Pull it back, let it go, till the martial calls a hold

We’ve lost the tip! We always lose the tip. (Not the tip!)

We’ve lost the tip! We always losethe tip. (Not the tip!)

We’ve lost the tip! We always lose the tip. (Not the tip!)

We always lose the tip. (Not the tip)

Yes we always lost the tip

Always lose the tip,

Bow. bow, bow, bow, bow bow bow

Oh, mama mia, mama mia (Mama mia, loose the bow.)

Your majesty has a medal put aside for me

For me

For me!!!!

Crossbows think they can sit there and steal the bullseyes

Mundanes think they can stroll past the field line alive!

Oh Baby!

Get off the field baby!

You gotta get out

You gotta get right out of here

Archers really matter

Anyone can see

Archers really matter to me

Anyway the wind blows

The Great Northeastern War

War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing!

Except pillaging afterwards! And bling!

This is my goof off year at GNE {NEVER GNEW!!!!} It was hot, I didn’t fight, and I definitely went swimming. I was in charge of a thing, Oh Odin, Oh Thor, aw hell!

Guess my ideas about Partying and shopping have to be curtailed a bit, because my home away from home this event would be: Gate!

I had organized over 80 volunteers to fill 40 different shifts give or take. When I wasn’t at Gate, I spent my time perusing merchants. I’m not really sure I slept the entire event. Because after all, what better way to spend GNE, right? After all, I was showing my Malagentian pride and getting my shopping war points, since I wasn’t fighting…

PARTY!! SHOPPING!! WOOT!

What does a true Viking do, but hang out with the likes of Thunder? The real challenge is walking home when you’re done. Especially if they’ve laid out the glow-sticks… My companion and I were heading back to our campsite, when we heard music coming from the Endeweardian encampment. Who else could it have been, but Aneleda Falconbridge?

Like a sailor to their siren, I slunk into their encampment, thankfully missing all the tent ropes. At one point, Aneleda Falconbridge, Jean de la Montagne, Master Lucienne, and Mistress Dreda had decided to perform one of my favorite quartets: Ave Verum Corpus by William Byrd. However, they seemed to be struggling in spots. I knew this piece like the back of my hand, even in my cups, as it had been my final in my conducting class in college. At one point, Aneleda asked the audience if anyone knew how to conduct, because she decided they clearly needed a conductor. I raised my hand sheepishly, not knowing what I was getting myself into. I was handed a copy of the score, made a few quick notes to jog my hazy memory, and quickly analyzed the situation.

Once I figured out where the hiccups were occurring, the derailed train was now back on track. What had been a struggle was now performed with ease, and we made it to the end as a team. At that point, the group started to dissipate, after all, it was 2am. Before leaving, the quartet approached me, and asked when we could do this again. I was star-struck, having four talented performers ask lowly little me, who didn’t even have her AoA when we could make sweet, beautiful music again.

#SpoilerAlert   I got my AoA the next day!

 

Image may contain: 5 people, people standingImage may contain: 3 people, people standing