Daughter No. 2 at the pan.
Part 1:
This is where I talk about another "last time" experience. This was the last steel band concert I will attend with one of my own children as part of the band. That didn't occur to me until half way through the performance, and I just had to choke it back. I'm glad I hadn't thought of that sooner because I would have approached it kind of sad. I prefer going to these festive things with a smile.
The program was shorter than usual but still wonderful with a good mix of the band's classic tunes and some newer ones taught to them over the weekend by their visiting clinician guy. They played it all very well—old and new. The senior players were each given a four-bar solo during one of the final pieces, so I got to listen to No.2 do her thing. It was her last big concert, too, but I don't think kids look at it quite that way. They are immortal, after all, and have an endless number of years ahead of them to experience all kinds of things. They haven't yet learned that life's phases come and go, and once you're done with them, you can't get them back.
Here is a video of the steel band performing their signature number, The Lion Sleeps Tonight. It's over three minutes long, so if you don't have time to listen to the whole thing, at least try to listen to a minute of it. It's good, but them I'm not an objective reviewer. No. 2 is the fourth from the right.
Part 2:
This is where I talk about the dinner. I don't have that much to say about it, but I thought I should wrap it up for you since I made such a big stinking deal about the clams and everything. I was only able to find two dozen clams despite all of my hunting, but it didn't matter. I used a few extra shrimp and had lots of mussels and assorted sausage—kielbasa, chicken chardonnay, and Mexican chorizo.
My dinner table was full of friends, and we all seemed to have a great time. Few things are as satisfying to me as having a house full of happy and comfortable guests who feel at home. The food was good, including the desserts brought by a good friend, and the conversation was lively. The kids played Apples to Apples in the next room, and my cat Tiger made the rounds from chair to chair, looking for someone to love.
Over the weekend, I offered a moral at the end of my clam dilemma post. Here is a lesson to keep in mind when serving large amounts of food, especially clams and mussels. Don't let them sit out on the kitchen counter for three and half hours. By the time we got up from the table to clean up a bit, we decided it was best to throw out the leftovers, and unfortunately, there was quite a bit. I don't think that means my guests didn't like it. I think I just made too much. I am always afraid I won't have enough.
So, the end of another Pantasia, the last one. And it was a good one.
Part 1:
This is where I talk about another "last time" experience. This was the last steel band concert I will attend with one of my own children as part of the band. That didn't occur to me until half way through the performance, and I just had to choke it back. I'm glad I hadn't thought of that sooner because I would have approached it kind of sad. I prefer going to these festive things with a smile.
The program was shorter than usual but still wonderful with a good mix of the band's classic tunes and some newer ones taught to them over the weekend by their visiting clinician guy. They played it all very well—old and new. The senior players were each given a four-bar solo during one of the final pieces, so I got to listen to No.2 do her thing. It was her last big concert, too, but I don't think kids look at it quite that way. They are immortal, after all, and have an endless number of years ahead of them to experience all kinds of things. They haven't yet learned that life's phases come and go, and once you're done with them, you can't get them back.
Here is a video of the steel band performing their signature number, The Lion Sleeps Tonight. It's over three minutes long, so if you don't have time to listen to the whole thing, at least try to listen to a minute of it. It's good, but them I'm not an objective reviewer. No. 2 is the fourth from the right.
Part 2:
This is where I talk about the dinner. I don't have that much to say about it, but I thought I should wrap it up for you since I made such a big stinking deal about the clams and everything. I was only able to find two dozen clams despite all of my hunting, but it didn't matter. I used a few extra shrimp and had lots of mussels and assorted sausage—kielbasa, chicken chardonnay, and Mexican chorizo.
My dinner table was full of friends, and we all seemed to have a great time. Few things are as satisfying to me as having a house full of happy and comfortable guests who feel at home. The food was good, including the desserts brought by a good friend, and the conversation was lively. The kids played Apples to Apples in the next room, and my cat Tiger made the rounds from chair to chair, looking for someone to love.
Over the weekend, I offered a moral at the end of my clam dilemma post. Here is a lesson to keep in mind when serving large amounts of food, especially clams and mussels. Don't let them sit out on the kitchen counter for three and half hours. By the time we got up from the table to clean up a bit, we decided it was best to throw out the leftovers, and unfortunately, there was quite a bit. I don't think that means my guests didn't like it. I think I just made too much. I am always afraid I won't have enough.
So, the end of another Pantasia, the last one. And it was a good one.
Comments
Though the thought of "number 2 at the pan" is probably not going to help me get in the mood. Ew!
It's a great setting; much more formal than last years. Nice.
Your dinner sounds fantastic. I wish I'd been there to eat up all your leftovers. I'm just a pig where seafood is concerned.
Now I'll be singing Wimoweh all night. Hey ho.