Day 1 - I am hopelessly underqualified to be here. I think I'll change my status to audit.
Day 2 - They gave me a bunch of music to play that I'll never be able to play. I think I'll go home.
Day 3 - I think I'm going to be able to handle this.
Day 4 - I play better than that bozo.
Day 5 - Where did all these good players come from, and why do I think I"m one of them?
As it turns out, this is day two, and I've already arrived at Day 3. Apparently it was efficient to do a lot of pre-workshop worrying at home. Master class is fun, we are all more or less at the same level, though I suspect some people would be insulted by that.
The music I got for one ensemble is incredibly difficult (for me) but for reasons of not being able to read it easily and having a partner who doesn't pull me along. It's not that it's anything I couldn't play on a good day. I just haven't quite had a good day yet. Neither has the other harpsichordist. We had a pretty good rehearsal today. 
These two flute players, Anne and Lydia, are really good. I suspect they are a bit annoyed with Amy and me. But they don't say anything and are being good sports, even though all the attention is being given to us. (Something I have always griped about at SFEMS, that the melody instruments got all the attention.) But Jacques Ogg, the harpsichordist, is our coach, so of course he spends more time with us. And frankly, we need more help than the flutists do. Today was also the first day of the
Baroque dance class. It seemed a little more difficult than some of us expected. The particular place where I'm staying is designed to be residence for visiting scholars and the like. The public rooms are quite nice -- there's even a pool table and a baby grand piano in the lounge area, which is the whole ground floor of one of the other buildings.
The outdoor spaces are quite lovely as well. However, the individual rooms are like monks' cells. 
The only soft surface in my room is me. It's very noisy. Not because the neighbors are noisy, but because I am noisy. If I blow my nose or make other bodily noises that are perfectly acceptable if one is alone, it reverberates around the room. When I open or close a door, I routinely forget which way the lock turns and therefore I turn it the wrong way and then yank on the door. This makes a lot of noise, as does the following unlocking of the door and going in or out. The room has a wooden desk and chair, a bed, a wardrobe, and an open set of shelves. The floor is cement. The windows have miniblinds. It would be nice to sing Gregorian chants in here with the rest of the monks. Even my usual trashing of the room ceremony hasn't made it any quieter. There are six players this week in harpsichord class. This means that in the two-hour class, four people get a 40-minute time slot every day. I played Monday, I didn't play today, but I will play tomorrow and Thursday. Then I won't play on Friday. There are plenty of harpsichords, and they are available four times a day in 1-1/2 hour slots. They are assigned, and each of us goes through all the available hours and harpsichords at the rate of four a day if you used all your practice hours. Last night Don Simons and I played a bunch of two-harpsichord stuff that he brought with him. There was some Schikhart that was a lot of fun, but like the other Schikhart I've played, had some real duds. But it was fun to play even when the music wasn't that good.
Later this week we have a private after-hours visit to the museum in town. They have a traveling exhibit of paintings from the Ryjksmuseum (I made up that spelling) in Amsterdam. We had a lecture tonight with slide show that was kind of a preview of what we're going to see. Last night we had a movie of a really well-staged Baroque opera, though we didn't get to see all of it. A lot of the late afternoon things get short changed because they don't get started on time, and the dining hall closes at 7. The food here is okay, but basically I think they believe they are catering to runners rather than musicians. Most of the food is carbs. On the other hand, they'll sell you a glass of wine with dinner, which goes a long way towards making up for pretty lame food.
Miscellaneous information about Canada -- health plan: One of the people auditing here told me he doesn't play anymore because he has Parkinson's and can't play because of the tremors. I was asking him how long he's had it, because he actually doesn't have noticeable tremors. He said about six years. Told me he needed an MRI and was on the three-year waiting list to get it, but was able to drive over to Buffalo (near where he lived at the time) and get it for $800. There was also an article in today's paper about a proposal that would do some significant rationing of health care. So interesting question of the day: When we go in for an MRI and our insurance company sends us a bill showing how much it cost, isn't it usually around $2K? But they will do the same MRI for a Canadian with cash in hand for $800. I'm having a hard time figuring out whose health system is the most screwed up. And who's being lied to the most.
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