Nearly the end of the school year!

Yesterday was sunny, and cool--45 when we left the house at 9am, sixty or so by the afternoon.

We left so early on a Saturday morning because it was the day of Federation. Which is the annual flocking of young instrumentalists to Washington University's music department to play for judges and be awarded ribbons if they do well. (This sounds fairly stressful and competetive, but it's not, at least it never has been for my kids or their teacher's other students that I know of. The judges are, in our experience, uniformly kind and leave encouraging notes.)

This year the Paidhi Kids were scheduled to play on the upper level, where the practice rooms are. Glass fronted, and nearly soundproof, the practice rooms were an object of fascination. Our teacher had nabbed one for us to put cases in and such--the hallways at this event are always very crowded with waiting kids and parents, so space is at a premium. Paidhi Boy played one of his pieces (Minuet I) inside, and no one outside could hear him! Then he and another student talked to each other through the glass, gesturing wildly.

While waiting for Paidhi Boy to finish playing (Paidhi Girl was done by then), we had a pleasant chat with the little boy after Paidhi Boy, a small fellow-student who is just now learning "Long Long Ago." He was playing "Song of the Wind" and "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" for the judge. I told him Aunt Rhody was one of Paidhi Boy's favorites, and he allowed as how "O Come Little Children" was his own fave. Paidhi Girl and I agreed it was a good song. Just about then, Paidhi Boy came out, and he was up, so I wished him good luck and off we went.

We'd taken the Metro, since the weather was lovely and Paidhi Boy loves to take the train. Got home, put away instruments, ate lunch, and back to the train station! Because we'd bought all day passes. The route goes near a shopping center where Paidhi Girl had purchased a small plecostomus. The pleco had died five days later, expiring, fortunately, before the two-week guarantee did.* So we boarded with the dead pleco in a plastic bag, and took it to the store, where we obtained a live one in exchange. Meantime Mr. Leckie and Paidhi Boy shopped at Trader Joe's. Paidhi Boy found the baby elephant and got a sticker and a tangerine. Then we got back on the train, Paidhi Girl and me to go home--she was worried we'd be thrown off because of a sign that said "no animals"--and Mr. Leckie and Paidhi Boy in the other direction to ride all the way to the end of the line and back.

Once they made it back home, we fired up the grill, because there's whole pork butt on sale this week, and if there's anything better than giggling about eating a pig's butt for supper, it's giggling while eating a barbecued pig's butt for supper. We're going to have pig butt quiche today with the leftovers, I think.

So it was one of those relaxing Saturdays when very little productive got done. We haven't had one of those for a while.

Today I need to buckle down and have a hardcore writing day. But I'm also having one of those days when I'm searching for reasons not to write. Not for any particular cause, I think, it's just...that happens. I'm going to have to be very stern, though, and get down to business very soon.

_____________

*The pleco's death wasn't any fault of Paidhi Girl's. Her tank currently houses three otocinclus and what was originally six guppies but is now...well, a lot of guppies. All of them are healthy and happy (well, all right, judging a fish's state of mind is a tricky endeavor, but they all seem satisfied), and her water quality is good. The fish are an endless source of fascination, especially when the guppies give birth, an event I recieved a very detailed account of last weekend, when a veritable cloud of brand new baby fish suddenly appeared in the tank.

Nearly the end of the school year!

Yesterday was sunny, and cool--45 when we left the house at 9am, sixty or so by the afternoon.

We left so early on a Saturday morning because it was the day of Federation. Which is the annual flocking of young instrumentalists to Washington University's music department to play for judges and be awarded ribbons if they do well. (This sounds fairly stressful and competetive, but it's not, at least it never has been for my kids or their teacher's other students that I know of. The judges are, in our experience, uniformly kind and leave encouraging notes.)

This year the Paidhi Kids were scheduled to play on the upper level, where the practice rooms are. Glass fronted, and nearly soundproof, the practice rooms were an object of fascination. Our teacher had nabbed one for us to put cases in and such--the hallways at this event are always very crowded with waiting kids and parents, so space is at a premium. Paidhi Boy played one of his pieces (Minuet I) inside, and no one outside could hear him! Then he and another student talked to each other through the glass, gesturing wildly.

While waiting for Paidhi Boy to finish playing (Paidhi Girl was done by then), we had a pleasant chat with the little boy after Paidhi Boy, a small fellow-student who is just now learning "Long Long Ago." He was playing "Song of the Wind" and "Go Tell Aunt Rhody" for the judge. I told him Aunt Rhody was one of Paidhi Boy's favorites, and he allowed as how "O Come Little Children" was his own fave. Paidhi Girl and I agreed it was a good song. Just about then, Paidhi Boy came out, and he was up, so I wished him good luck and off we went.

We'd taken the Metro, since the weather was lovely and Paidhi Boy loves to take the train. Got home, put away instruments, ate lunch, and back to the train station! Because we'd bought all day passes. The route goes near a shopping center where Paidhi Girl had purchased a small plecostomus. The pleco had died five days later, expiring, fortunately, before the two-week guarantee did.* So we boarded with the dead pleco in a plastic bag, and took it to the store, where we obtained a live one in exchange. Meantime Mr. Leckie and Paidhi Boy shopped at Trader Joe's. Paidhi Boy found the baby elephant and got a sticker and a tangerine. Then we got back on the train, Paidhi Girl and me to go home--she was worried we'd be thrown off because of a sign that said "no animals"--and Mr. Leckie and Paidhi Boy in the other direction to ride all the way to the end of the line and back.

Once they made it back home, we fired up the grill, because there's whole pork butt on sale this week, and if there's anything better than giggling about eating a pig's butt for supper, it's giggling while eating a barbecued pig's butt for supper. We're going to have pig butt quiche today with the leftovers, I think.

So it was one of those relaxing Saturdays when very little productive got done. We haven't had one of those for a while.

Today I need to buckle down and have a hardcore writing day. But I'm also having one of those days when I'm searching for reasons not to write. Not for any particular cause, I think, it's just...that happens. I'm going to have to be very stern, though, and get down to business very soon.

_____________

*The pleco's death wasn't any fault of Paidhi Girl's. Her tank currently houses three otocinclus and what was originally six guppies but is now...well, a lot of guppies. All of them are healthy and happy (well, all right, judging a fish's state of mind is a tricky endeavor, but they all seem satisfied), and her water quality is good. The fish are an endless source of fascination, especially when the guppies give birth, an event I recieved a very detailed account of last weekend, when a veritable cloud of brand new baby fish suddenly appeared in the tank.