Tag Archives: Cats and music

Effie, Rachmaninoff, and Poulenc

Effie napped through Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto in C Minor, ate a bit of lunch, and returned to nap through 59 minutes of some fairly rancorous chamber music by Poulenc.

I suspect she may be dodging the claw clippers.

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Effie’s not too big on Shostakovich. . .

I’m honestly not either; at least Effie’s candid about her tastes.

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Effie’s affinity for Sir Andrew

While I’m dusting, Effie enjoys a timeout to relax and listen to Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical, Cats.


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Effie’s Tribute to John Cage

Just when I think she’s a classicist, she goes experimental. . . .

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Effie’s rainy day activities

After she is sufficiently wet from her rain romp in Effieland, Effie settles in to listen to organist Peter Hurford play various Bach selections.


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Effie and Peter

Effie was cross that so much rain was falling; she wanted to be outdoors, but that is where the rain was. I put her favorite music in our faithful old CD player. Peter Hurford’s performance of Bach’s organ preludes, fugues, toccatas, fantasias, a passacaglia, and other beautiful seventeenth-century hits soon had her transfixed.

Our first lilac bush is blooming, and my desire to photograph it through the window was thwarted; even our covered deck was under siege of wind-driven rain, and I honestly was not motivated to be out in it with my camera. The music, a mug of green tea, and Effie blissfully absorbed provided composure sufficient to the day.


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Effie explores Franck’s Trois Chorals…and a Dove Believed Dead

My husband was playing César Franck’s Trois Chorals pour Grand Orgue last evening, as Effie listened attentively. Her movements engaged strikingly with the peaceable profundity of the music. She seems truly to enjoy classical music, and we are happy she is able to enjoy it with us in silent absorption.

My Dad has such clever fingers, but only ten. I have 16 clever toes. . . I bet I could do that!

I know I can figure this out. . .

Ooooh! This music makes butterflies fly in my heart!

Let’s do this all the time, okay?

I just need those things his fingers are on to be a little higher.

I heard a “Thunk!” against the house this afternoon, and raced to the window overlooking Effieland to check on Effie. She was fine, looking neutrally at a mourning dove on its back. The pitiable bird, as many of its peers have done on every side of the house, had crashed into the side of the house next to Effieland, and hit the ground, landing on its back.

I was sure the dove was dead, and I was pleased Effie was not shredding and/or consuming the poor thing. . I did not want her to eat any bird, alive or dead, and become a bird killer. Initially she left this one alone.

I checked again several minutes later, and Effie was sniffing the bird. I went out and brought her into the house.

As I was wrapping up my task of vacuuming, I checked on the bird again through the window. It was still on its back, but now it was also raising and lowering its feet. I reckoned it was in death throes. I went out with a plastic bag to remove the dead bird and dispose of it so Effie would not attempt to eat it. Bad bird-killer habits come from eating birds dead or alive. But Effie had ignored a sparrow that crashed and died in Effieland not long ago.

I lifted the dove with my Nitrile-gloved hand to put its body in the bag. The dove immediately righted itself and hobbled, then walked; then it flapped and finally flew to the fence, landed on the ground, and walked through a normal wire fence hole.

I was elated; and I was more stunned than the dove had been, just moments earlier.  Effie was wide-eyed, but she did not chase the dove. I love my cat for that.


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Effie’s organ reverie


Effie listens intently to an organ music CD, a variety of preludes and fugues and other pieces composed by Marcel Dupré, performed by Jean-Pierre Lecaudey.

I wish Effie could take a master class with Monsieur Lecaudey, but unfortunately, she is in the proto-beginner stage of becoming a beginning organist. There is also the incommodity that Monsieur Lecaudey lives in France and we live in the western United States, which would pose multiple challenges to timely arrival for lessons.

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The Organist’s Apprentice

p1020353“Maybe I can help Dad with the harmony. . .”

p1020354Look! I can use two hands, just like my Dad!”


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Effie’s organ lesson

Effie has always treated my husband’s organ as a jungle gym, but she has lately shown some inclination to play it the way her dad does. She began by creating a new harmony, adapting a chorale of César Franck to a duet. She needs practice, but shows motivation and even perhaps aptitude–but that’s her stage mom’s observation.

p1020340Effie observes her dad’s motions with his hands. . .

p1020339She helps by turning a page with her nose. . .

p1020341Her turn to try the keys–her long-awaited lesson commences!

p1020338She returns to observing Dad’s hand moves. . .

p1020337from every angle.

p1020336Effie Organmeister!


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