Well, it's been another beautiful day of slush-rain. You know, that stuff that falls from the sky, heavy blobs about the consistency of bird crap? At least it's not sticking any more. There was about six days when I couldn't even get my car up the driveway. Of course it doesn't occur to a West-Coast girl like myself to shovel the snow. Why would I do that?, we ask ourselves. It won't stick. It'll melt by noon! By five o'clock we'll be firing up the barbecue, breaking in this year's Teva sandals as we fill the neighbourhood with the aroma of charred salmon. Oh yeah, it's great to live on the Sunshine Coast.
Indeed, I recall many-a-March, my dad squatting outside by the hibachi on the porch of our Fort Langley home, bragging to no one in particular about what fine, mild weather we have here in southwest BC.
It's been difficult for us West-Coasters, eh? Nobody cares, though. They just don't get it. We're not like you, we tell them. We don't have ice scrapers and snow shovels and long undewear! That's for the ROC, man. (Rest of Canada.)
My partner is from Montreal and she wears gloves in March! Can you believe this? Crazy-making. I can't do that. That would require I give up living in denial about the weather.
What does this have to do with piano tuning on the Sunshine Coast? Well, if you're piano is anything like mine, it's probably sorely out of tune following this unseasonably (or maybe it is seasonably) weather we've been having. Yes, changes in humidity are the devil. Forget tritones -- an out-of-tune piano is the most sinister sound around. Let me exorcise it from your home! If the past is any kind of teacher, then we should accept we still have a bit of winter left for staying inside and brooding over the ivories, plodding along in minor keys, something evocative of the "Song of the Volga Boatmen" perhaps. You know, to reflect our struggle here, our yo-heave-ho-ing along despite the hardships of slush-rain. There's something in this song about singing to the sun, but I assume the sun is behind clouds and they are just trying to get it to come out, you know, to stop the slush-rain.
At any rate, perhaps it is time to polish our barbecue tools. Have hope! Persevere! Ayda-da-ayda!