I guess I'm just going to have to get my parallel striation on, and come up with something. Hmmmm... I think I may just have figured out the answer to a nagging problem (for a value of nagging that is consistent with The Queen of Night's aria in The Magic Flute, in other words: impossible to ignore!). Oooh!
*wishes less of today were spoken for*
I was torn between this icon and the "Writing Is Hard!" one. This one came out on top in the mental coin toss.
No, I think I've got it now. It's just a matter of trying to gather together enough time to get it down on... disk.
When Eldest Daughter (see icon) was about 3, I watched a PBS version of The Magic Flute with her. She was very impressed. Eldest Daughter has a very, very good aural memory. A few weeks later, we were sitting with my dad in the living room of the family vacation home in the Adirondacks, when my father's face showing growing fascination and astonishment.
"Is she singing [a no-words version of] 'The Queen of Night's Aria'?"
Yep. She was. Being a tiny kid, she was singing it an octave up, which would be impossible for an adult, and doing it very accurately. It impressed and pleased my dad, whose lifelong favorite composer was Mozart, although admittedly by the end of the weekend he was a little sick of it.
"It's just a little too high and squeaky!" he offered weakly.
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*sigh*
I guess I'm just going to have to get my parallel striation on, and come up with something. Hmmmm... I think I may just have figured out the answer to a nagging problem (for a value of nagging that is consistent with The Queen of Night's aria in The Magic Flute, in other words: impossible to ignore!). Oooh!
*wishes less of today were spoken for*
I was torn between this icon and the "Writing Is Hard!" one. This one came out on top in the mental coin toss.
no subject
no subject
When Eldest Daughter (see icon) was about 3, I watched a PBS version of The Magic Flute with her. She was very impressed. Eldest Daughter has a very, very good aural memory. A few weeks later, we were sitting with my dad in the living room of the family vacation home in the Adirondacks, when my father's face showing growing fascination and astonishment.
"Is she singing [a no-words version of] 'The Queen of Night's Aria'?"
Yep. She was. Being a tiny kid, she was singing it an octave up, which would be impossible for an adult, and doing it very accurately. It impressed and pleased my dad, whose lifelong favorite composer was Mozart, although admittedly by the end of the weekend he was a little sick of it.
"It's just a little too high and squeaky!" he offered weakly.
no subject
no subject