We're getting ready to go to Pinewoods Camp in Massachussets, which means kit lists, car cleaning and maintenance, en-route motel reservations (whatever's cheapest in Syracuse NY), and packing. Himself has a fine sleeping bag but I don't, so a trip to Canadian Tire is on the agenda.

It's depressing when I realize that I hardly play any more. Stratford lacks a come-all-ye session spot, and I left the guitar ensemble behind in Ottawa, so I have zero incentive to practise or learn new tunes. The event at Pinewoods is the Traditional Music and Dance (TradMaD) Camp, and for the first time in forever I am going to a music event with no performance-ready repertoire. I've even let the nails on my left hand go unclipped for weeks! Gah.

The decluttering continues, but now I have to shift my focus to good stuff that I would like to keep but shouldn't, starting with printed music (i.e., dots). I'm one of the last members of the family who reads music, and the only music-reader in the family who likes and performs Irish and Scots traditional repertoire, of which I have lots. For some time, I have been looking for the right recipient of my battered but sound full-sized copy of The Songs of the Hebrides (four volumes), and I finally met her -- a classically trained harpist from Nova Scotia who plays and sings Scots Gaelic songs. She actually *wants* the collection, and even offered to pay for shipping it (no small sum). Tomorrow, it goes.