As is always the case when one would like to slow down and do something well, the time before Erin"s recital flew by. She couldn"t hang onto the minutes, and her music progressed painfully slowly. She doubted all of it would be ready in time.
And then, suddenly, the afternoon of the recital arrived. All the performers waited behind the big black curtain for the show to start. Erin had already warmed up her oboe. It rested on a stand on the stage of the recital hall.
Now she paced nervously from one side of the backstage area to the other, running through a messy jumble of thoughts. Tory will accompany me when I need a piano. I love her for that. Wish I needed a harpsichord, she"s so good at it. Wouldn"t harpsichord and oboe make a whiny pair? Like a couple of squabbling toddlers. Reminds
