Natasha Regehr
What a whirlwind. How else can I describe the flurry of these last few days? I’ve been spinning in circles from one house to the next, one car to the next, and one suitcase to the next. And now I’m here, sitting at Gate B25, waiting for my boarding call.
Many of you have been kindly emailing, phoning, texting, and dropping by, and the questions are always the same: “Are you excited? Are you nervous? Are you ready?” Continue reading
“Hey, are these guys any good?” I asked, gesturing at the Peterborough Singers brochures on the counter. It was February, 2008, and I was hauling yet another load of mistreated school band instruments to B Flat Music for a little TLC.
“Oh, yes, very good!” declared Peg McCracken.
“You’ve heard them, then?” I asked skeptically.
“Heard them? I’ve sung with them for eighteen years!”
Undaunted, I pressed her further. “What kind of music do they sing?” I was not into the flaky schmaltz that so many community choirs seem to thrive on. I made that immediately and unapologetically clear.
“Well, we’re singing Bach’s St. Matthew Passion in our next concert. You should join us!”
Wait. A. Minute. Are you telling me that a place exists in Peterborough where I can go and sing exclusively Bach for two hours a week, every single week, until May? Pinch me hard; I must be dreaming.
“Start by coming to our concert this weekend. If you like it, we can set up an audition.”
I went. The moment the choir started singing, Continue reading
No, really, I am.
I have been tormenting my friends and acquaintances for days now with cryptic comments about exciting new developments in my mundane little life, and the day has finally come when I can shout it from the rooftops: I’m moving!
I just signed a two-year teaching contract with an international school in the legendary city of Casablanca. I’ll be teaching music to students from Kindergarten to Grade 5: my dream job, my dream climate, my dream of dreams in every way.
You may have noticed a funny little game going around on Facebook, whereby people nominate each other to share a few things for which they are thankful. The challenge is to “post three things you’re grateful for each day for seven days.”
I say, PSHAW. That’s no challenge at all. I’ve done that, week after week, year after year, since 2007, without repeating anything.*
It gets a little tricky to do that for seven years running, so I’ll modify the challenge for all of you novices out there: Can you muster up 365 consecutive days of gratitude, and post your list next Thanksgiving?
I did! So here, without further ado, is my (minimally censored) 2014 Gratitude List:
The sun came out and warmed me up
I got an extra hour outside
I made the soup yesterday
Gloria is okay
I made it to the end of this emotionally unsavoury day
And tomorrow will be different
My back yard at night, with stars and wisps of clouds. It gives me cause for deep breaths and solace.
Children who stay home to vomit… Continue reading
I had a Cheers moment last night. It was fantastic. I walked into a bar, and heard a joyful chorus of, “Hey, Norm!”
Well, to be precise, the exclamation sounded more like, “Hi Natasha!” and the bar was Syd Birrell’s back porch. But the sentiment was the same. Quiet little Natasha, who never speaks unless she must, still managed to find herself a roomful of friends.
Everyone was happy to see me. Everyone conversed with me. Everyone asked me questions, and was interested in my answers. I could barely sit down, I was so busy being everyone’s friend. Indeed, I was one of the last to leave. Me. Staying longer than necessary at a social event. Imagine!
What unprecedented alignment of stars and planets could make such a thing happen? What mysterious forces intervened to thrust me so effortlessly into everyone else’s collective orbit? Was it my birthday? My convocation? My wedding? My retirement?
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