Tea and Music

Since my bit of good fortune (an insurance settlement) came down upon me this past year, I have, frankly, wasted too much of it on absurd frivolities which it would be tiresome to enumerate.  But some parts of that ridiculous gaspillage, contrarily, I do not in the least regret; specifically my expenditures on Indian tea, printed music, and a fine little electric piano (Casio), with headphones, so that I can play the music I like best at any hour of the day or night without annoying the neighbours.   

The tea, in especial, has been my heart's ease.  One variety particularly, Darjeeling Ruby, is so fragrant, so delicious, so gently stimulating, so mildly soothing (morning headache begone!), that I really don't mind paying $100 for a half pound of it.  

Regarding my piano, of which my maid says, "You play and play--and no sound comes out!" After several years of not having a piano, and now basically, reviewing the music I've been playing for the past six and a half decades, I notice some interesting changes in my performance (or practice) habit: I no longer, as was ever my wont in my salad days, go from suite to suite, and partita to partita, cherry-picking the pieces that are easiest to play.  Nowadays, I settle down to playing one suite, or partita, or sonata, at a time, and I play it through, from Ouverture to final jig, with all the repeats, and all the right tempos.  It makes Handel and Purcell and Bach ever so much more satisfying and interesting.  Most especially the Bach suites and partitas, which have all their own peculiar characters (personalities even), which the cherry-picking mode tastelessly confounds; and most especially of all the Handel suites--the 'Harmonious Blacksmith' being but a glittering specimen in a wholly jewel-like suite in E Major.