The Olympic figure skating is now over, and I can return to my regular schedule. It's one of those weird things where I enjoy it when it's happening, but I'm glad when it's over because I like getting that time back. I suppose it's time to finally give up any hope of winning an Olympic skating medal, considering that I'm now older than many of the coaches and never learned to skate beyond going in wobbly circles around the rink. Even so, every four years I catch myself mentally picking out my music, designing my costume and choreographing my program, and I'm more motivated to exercise for about two weeks. In spite of motivation, though, I think I'd better skip dance tonight because a front came through, whipping up the wind and bringing in enough dust that the sky is now hazy. The allergies are kicking in again, and I think that I'd better stay inside and not breathe in too much of that, since I have to be "on" this weekend.
I don't really have any cute choir stories from last night. The kids were reasonably well behaved (the two biggest problems weren't there), and I kept them busy enough that when the parents started arriving to pick them up, one kid said, "But we just got here!" The real fun will come Sunday, when they sing in the early service. For me, that will be after a late night at a convention.
Speaking of conventions, I mentioned last fall as we were getting ready for FenCon that I was working on a video project. Well, it finally got posted online, so I'll share the results:
The convention flight safety briefing.
This is what happens when you start doing improv at dinner with the convention chair. Next thing you know, you're getting an e-mail asking when the script will be ready. We shot that in a day, and then I learned how to edit video on a computer (I learned video editing back in the dark ages) to put it together. I guess I need to be thinking of something for this year so we can start work earlier than August.
Now I need to find an excerpt for a convention reading. And laundry would be a good idea.