
It’s Ed’s birthday today. Ed Elder, my partner of 33 and husband of 28 years. He turns 67 today, so I joke that he’s at sixes and sevens.
Which is all in jest and none at all truthful. Nothing about Ed is in “a state of total confusion, disorder, or disarray”, as the classic idiom of being at sixes and sevens is defined.
I won’t even try to appropriate Gen Alpha’s amusingly nonsensical rallying cry “Six Seven”, since I can’t make heads or tails of it and my generation is not supposed to be able to.
Ed and I will stick to the classical idiom, the one that’s been around for about 600 years, not two. And happily quote two classic British operettas that incorporate it in their lyrics. Ed is a big Gilbert and Sullivan afficionnado. In H.M.S. Pinafore the captain sings about being at sixes and sevens at the start of Act Two.
I’ll share the start of Act Two of a more modern British operetta, Evita, in which Eva Peron sings to the crowd outside the balcony of the Casa Rosada about being “dressed to the nines, at sixes and sevens with you” (but never fear, her heart remains with the people):
And once again, because I do so every year, Ed will receive a new Viola/Piano duet from me for his birthday. Evocation XXXIII, the thirtythird in a series that grows with every additional July 12 that comes our way.
This year I won’t share the computer generated audio approximation of the piece, because it did not capture the score even moderately well this time. The musically trained amongst you may get a sense of the ethereal quality of this Evocation just by looking at the score.
Ed and I will hear it later today when we play it for the first time.




Later today – we just played Evocation XXXIII. Ed described it as “ethereal”, “misty” and mysterious”. (I agree.)


























































































































