Blowsy

"It's mad," said R, "but I like it."

He might as well have been talking about this evening's performance, as about these parrot tulips.

The tulips (despite my efforts to make them behave) were doing what parrot tulips do, which is to loll about all over the place, like a Parisian courtesan during l'heure bleue.

The choir did what the choir is best known for: scaring the conductor half to death by missing virtually every entrance at the final rehearsal, and then somehow picking itself up by its bootstraps, launching itself into the concert, and more or less, just about, making allowances for the odd slip here and there.... nailing it.

It was important to us to nail it (more or less...etc), because our founding Musical Director stood down this evening: it appears that we've broken him and we're going to have to get a new one. After five years of pushing, shoving, encouraging, threatening and cajoling a community choir into singing some of the best pieces of choral music ever written, he's decided to put his feet up for a while and let someone else have a go. Having known Duruflé personally, he wanted to finish his stint with the Requiem, and we wanted to do it well for him - but it is a fairly fiendish piece, and as of final rehearsal this afternoon there was no confidence among the choir that we were going to pull it off.

We pulled it off (more or less, etc.).

"I'm quite impressed," said R.

That'll do, pig.

That'll do.