...upon our house. SnarkGirl has decided to take up the string base, which means we gots the funk. The spirit of George Clinton has infused us, and we're forced to give it up at least five times a week, for thirty minutes at a pop.
Or rather, we will have the funk, once she gets the hang of it. Right now she plays enthusiastically, but not well. In fact, it's a great deal like listening to a cat being dry shaved with a straight razor when she plays with the bow, or someone bludgeoning a semi-'tarded giraffe when she plucks it.
She looks a wee bit like a rhesus monkey on the back of an elephant when she plays, as well, because her bass is enormous; it is both taller and wider than she is.
When Bitey sees her setting up, his eyes bug out, his tail bottle-brushes and he lights up for the outer reaches of the house. He'll burrow under quilts and pillows if he can find them. The dog will sit near her and "sing" along mournfully by howling.
All of this will culminate in two spring concerts: a jazz combo and an orchestral performance. She's already excited to perform, and she's diligently learning to "swing" the bass theatrically.
We just have to survive -- sanity intact -- until April!