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December is a busy time for musicians. Choir concerts, cantatas, ballets, church services, holiday parties – these are our bread and butter. I get booked as early as September, and I already know a few gigs I’ll have next December. This year I’ve had three weeks of gigging without a single day off. Some days I’ve had two or three gigs in a day, and, oh I dunno, let’s throw in some make-up lessons for my students in between them. It’s lucrative, but it’s so so so busy. So thank the stars for Amazon Prime and the internet.

Even though all the gifts are done well in advance, Christmas always sneaks up on me because of how busy it gets. I have to do little things to recapture the excitement and energy of the Christmas season so I don’t totally become a jaded curmudgeon who’s lost all sense of wonder. Here’s my short list of little tricks that make me feel festive:

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Over the summer I went on a three week road trip across the US and up the pacific coast. I’ll save the why and how for another time but let me just say the US is huge and diverse. I don’t think it’s really possible to know just how huge and diverse unless you drive the whole thing. When you drive, you feel the distance and changes in between destinations. But that can make for the best times because the in-between allowed us to spot things we didn’t plan to go to or know about, and then make some of our favorite memories.

My parents and I were headed to Mt Hood along the north side of the Fruit Loop when we saw signs for Lavender Valley. We still had a while ahead of us on a long driving day. We needed a break. My mom and I convinced my dad to follow the signs. I didn’t really expect lavender for a hot second because hipsters name their locales all types of fancy and evocative words, but this place was legit lavender fields. My first time in a lavender field! And the smell! I’d imagined the smell would be like sticking my whole face into a heavy sticky perfume but it was fresh, delicately aromatic. The women working at the products stand were kind to let us walk into the fields wherein we had a view that outdoes anything Provence’s fields can offer. Provence can suck it, Provence can’t see a volcano from its fields (I’m kidding, I’m just upset I can’t afford to travel there). In the late afternoon light, bees going to town all around us, natural beauty in abundance, I fell in love with lavender all over again.

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Rosemary + Orange French Toast

I had waited all week to make these. I left the bread out to stale overnight, realized that I had no time in the next five days to make use of it, and had the good foresight to wrap the slices in a linen cloth and stuff that into the refrigerator. However, I forgot the leftovers I had set on my counter and meant to take with me. And again the next day. And the day after that. And again. I only remembered it when I smelled it, groaning yet again because I’d left something to mold. Continue reading

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Mint Lemonade

Dolce: A musical connotation meaning “sweet,” indicating a direction to perform sweetly and gently.
Dulce: A sweet food or drink.

Dolce + Dulce is a space designed for exploring the sweetness in life. Whether it’s a blatant loveliness or a bittersweetness, this blog means to share a love of food, music, life, and everything else. Maybe somewhere in this space you can find something relatable or inspiring or accessible or aesthetically comforting. The recipes are yours to use and adapt and make your own.

For a long time, Dolce + Dulce was an idea for which I made excuses not to bring into the world because of the same reasons anyone doesn’t start something: fear of failure. To produce quality, consistent content, to maintain inspiration and passion, to improve – these things require commitment that I worried would produce failure in other aspects of my life by spreading myself too thin. Classical music is a demanding world that requires endless love even when that world doesn’t seem to love you back, and that’s where most of my love resides.

What I hope is that there will be nothing to carve into because there is endless room for everything I want to do. Regret comes from a failure to do, and I aim to never regret. Even if I never feel like I know what I’m doing, at least I am finally doing this.

This introductory post is to give you a sense of the tone of this blog and who I am, and I would like to share the story of the time I was laughed at by inmates.

“The Inmate Story”

When I was 19 I flew home to Florida to spend time with my family. It was summer. Florida summers are stifling and aggravating and overwhelming and flush with rash decisions and desperation, which could account for why my father bought a motorcycle and why I agreed to get my endorsement with him.

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