Hey, folks - Just a little update on Skittles. She is going gangbusters - scampering and prancing like there's no tomorrow, continually trying to involve Hobie in play (Hobie remains essentially blind to her), responding favorably to the kids' overtures for snugglin' at every turn, using the litterboxes (yes, plural - we caved and put one upstairs to avoid any future accidents)...Just great.
And gaining weight like crazy - I'll get a picture soon and put it up, but she looks like a different cat. Much more energetic than when she got here - visibly bigger, more filled out.
And in hindsight... Of all the kittens we looked at at the pet store (which was hosting adoptions from the humane society - she's not from a kitty mill), she was the thinnest. I mean, her belly didn't sag at all. I did notice it at the time - I could feel her ribs. But she seemed so happy. And when we got her home, her hips were so bony - I didn't know whether that was just the way she was, or what. But now, a little more than a week later, the pointy tips of her pelvic bones are difficult to find under her now-pliant and loose skin; her ribs are hard to detect; her coat seems shinier...And I wonder: Was she neglected, either at the animal shelter, or at her foster mother's, or at her original home...?
Back to school today.
And that is all I will say about that.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Friday, January 2, 2009
Another bag of Skittles
As our merry vacation chugs to its inevitable conclusion, I realize that I have been remiss. Since the early episodes, in which I offered up the efforts of hours and hours of video editing, I have been pretty tenaciously recreating with the family, and have neglected to keep my readers (both of you) in ye olde Loope. So here are some updates.
Twice in two days now we have gone skating at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Skating Rink in North Adams. They redid the place over the past year - new insulation on the ceiling, new boards and benches surrounding the ice, new vending machines, a surface that no longer has a marked slope toward the south. And it's very nice. It has a sort of "if you build it, they will come" vibe - because the people who go there seem different. There were absolutely no rowdy thirteen-year-olds either day, no hockey dads encouraging their thuggish kids to play tag, no crazy people...Just families out for a skate. It was super, super pleasant.
And T! Oh, my goodness - that kid can downright skate. I mean, just skate - all the way around the rink, without falling, gliding for four, five feet at a time, picking up some speed...It's been amazing. Though both days, we have forgotten to bring the camera! Strange. So I can offer no proof. But believe me, that is a graceful little tyke on the ice. I hope she doesn't go in for figure skating, though - the Russian-looking woman who comes there (she's still there - the renovation didn't scare her off) gives me the willies. She stands at rinkside in an ankle-length fur coat and a fur hat - I'm serious - and calls our pointers to her seven or eight-year-old daughter, who spins and twirls while the rest of us amateurs glide past, feeling a little weird about "interrupting" their lesson by skating counterclockwise in an orderly fashion during open skating. I mean, I just don't want anything to do with a long fur coat. I'd look fabulous, don't get me wrong. But the whole situation seems less than completely healthy. Lovely little girl, though, and she can really skate. No, I see T more in the speed skating circuit. There is a speed skating club in Pittsfield - found out about it a couple of years ago. If she gets my thighs and her mom's calves, she's going to be lifting Cadillacs by the third grade.
And Q! He's bigger and faster than last year. I mean, he's not a hockey player (that is by design), so it's not like he looks like he lives on the ice, but he has really taken to it. Yesterday I discovered that I went a lot faster if I concentrated on pushing off with my heels, and told Q about it, and zoom! He looked back at me with his eyes big, and was thus kept interested for the next forty-five minutes. They really love to skate, and so do we, though Janneke's feet got pinched and cold both days.
We had our New year's bash, which was considerably smaller and quieter and ended much earlier than last year. Lots of previous guests were out of town, but we got a nice number together and enjoyed ourselves. At one point we were all playing...Oh, what's the name of that game - it's an electronic screen with several buttons on a disk, and you pass it around and new words pop up on the screen that you have to get your team to say. And Q kicked a$$ on this thing. His left hand would work itself into the most bizarre contortions, his face would take on such bright, liquid, guileless excitement, and he would stretch and strain his vocabulary (which turns out to be HUGE!) and his image-making capacity (also impressive) to get his teammates to say whatever had just popped up. I gained so much knowledge of his being from that game - it was a side of him I never see, this competitive, giddy, nervous, creative jitterbug of a guy that I didn't even know I was raising. And T sat on my lap throughout, and whenever the beeping would end with a buzzer and the machine was in my hands (OK, I'll be honest: that never happened), or Q's, or Janneke's, T would throw out a lower lip and begin to softly cry. "I don't like it when someone in our family loses!", she sobbed to me by way of explanation. Mercifully, she soon fell asleep, and I was able to slide out from under her and enjoy the game a bit more...Q stayed up for his very first ball-dropping ceremony, which went really well, and right afterwards we turned on the TV. (Badump-bump.) He was actually pretty freaked out by Dick Clark, who, I again assert, must be, at this point, purely animatronic. Good time had by all.
And Skittles. What can I say? That little critter has been absolutely everything we hoped she would be. Q went to bed tonight, sad because of a bit of a scolding he'd just gotten for a couple of things, and Skittles trotted into his room after him. I went in to say goodnight later on, and found her there, on the floor - and some time after that we went looking for her, and found her in bed with him. We suspected Q was not allowing her to leave, but after a while he came out because his head hurt, adn Skittles trotted out after him - and when he went back to his room, she trotted back down the hall. Then, around 10:30, Janneke went to look for her again (there have been some piddling issues, and we get nervous whenever she's been AWOL for a while), and came back to report that Q was sound asleep, and Skittles was curled up next to his head, purring loudly. Not because she was being stroked or fed or anything - She was NEXT to him as he SLEPT, and this inspired her to PURR! What a cat. We hit the jackpot. (And I hereby knock on wood.)
And so I bring you some more photos of her. With us. In different positions.
There is video in the works as well...
OK, the Skittles photo doesn't want to upload, so here are some others. Also holiday-related, also gorgeous.
These are the madelines that Janneke made for Santa Claus. As good as they look, they tasted better.
We caught Hobie up where he shouldn't be when we came back from Mark and Ronadh's house, banging the door and singing as we came in. So when we saw him, we turned on some lights and went and got the camera and banged some cymbals together and lit some firecrackers and then took this picture. That is one old, deaf dog.
T in front of the Christmas tree, with her ballerina outfit. Why? Because we can.
Q reads to T. No kidding, straight-up reading to her. It's a magical time, when one can read and the other can't, and they get along, and you only have to prod them a little bit to get them to do it long enough to take a picture.
Twice in two days now we have gone skating at the Vietnam Veterans Memorial Skating Rink in North Adams. They redid the place over the past year - new insulation on the ceiling, new boards and benches surrounding the ice, new vending machines, a surface that no longer has a marked slope toward the south. And it's very nice. It has a sort of "if you build it, they will come" vibe - because the people who go there seem different. There were absolutely no rowdy thirteen-year-olds either day, no hockey dads encouraging their thuggish kids to play tag, no crazy people...Just families out for a skate. It was super, super pleasant.
And T! Oh, my goodness - that kid can downright skate. I mean, just skate - all the way around the rink, without falling, gliding for four, five feet at a time, picking up some speed...It's been amazing. Though both days, we have forgotten to bring the camera! Strange. So I can offer no proof. But believe me, that is a graceful little tyke on the ice. I hope she doesn't go in for figure skating, though - the Russian-looking woman who comes there (she's still there - the renovation didn't scare her off) gives me the willies. She stands at rinkside in an ankle-length fur coat and a fur hat - I'm serious - and calls our pointers to her seven or eight-year-old daughter, who spins and twirls while the rest of us amateurs glide past, feeling a little weird about "interrupting" their lesson by skating counterclockwise in an orderly fashion during open skating. I mean, I just don't want anything to do with a long fur coat. I'd look fabulous, don't get me wrong. But the whole situation seems less than completely healthy. Lovely little girl, though, and she can really skate. No, I see T more in the speed skating circuit. There is a speed skating club in Pittsfield - found out about it a couple of years ago. If she gets my thighs and her mom's calves, she's going to be lifting Cadillacs by the third grade.
And Q! He's bigger and faster than last year. I mean, he's not a hockey player (that is by design), so it's not like he looks like he lives on the ice, but he has really taken to it. Yesterday I discovered that I went a lot faster if I concentrated on pushing off with my heels, and told Q about it, and zoom! He looked back at me with his eyes big, and was thus kept interested for the next forty-five minutes. They really love to skate, and so do we, though Janneke's feet got pinched and cold both days.
We had our New year's bash, which was considerably smaller and quieter and ended much earlier than last year. Lots of previous guests were out of town, but we got a nice number together and enjoyed ourselves. At one point we were all playing...Oh, what's the name of that game - it's an electronic screen with several buttons on a disk, and you pass it around and new words pop up on the screen that you have to get your team to say. And Q kicked a$$ on this thing. His left hand would work itself into the most bizarre contortions, his face would take on such bright, liquid, guileless excitement, and he would stretch and strain his vocabulary (which turns out to be HUGE!) and his image-making capacity (also impressive) to get his teammates to say whatever had just popped up. I gained so much knowledge of his being from that game - it was a side of him I never see, this competitive, giddy, nervous, creative jitterbug of a guy that I didn't even know I was raising. And T sat on my lap throughout, and whenever the beeping would end with a buzzer and the machine was in my hands (OK, I'll be honest: that never happened), or Q's, or Janneke's, T would throw out a lower lip and begin to softly cry. "I don't like it when someone in our family loses!", she sobbed to me by way of explanation. Mercifully, she soon fell asleep, and I was able to slide out from under her and enjoy the game a bit more...Q stayed up for his very first ball-dropping ceremony, which went really well, and right afterwards we turned on the TV. (Badump-bump.) He was actually pretty freaked out by Dick Clark, who, I again assert, must be, at this point, purely animatronic. Good time had by all.
And Skittles. What can I say? That little critter has been absolutely everything we hoped she would be. Q went to bed tonight, sad because of a bit of a scolding he'd just gotten for a couple of things, and Skittles trotted into his room after him. I went in to say goodnight later on, and found her there, on the floor - and some time after that we went looking for her, and found her in bed with him. We suspected Q was not allowing her to leave, but after a while he came out because his head hurt, adn Skittles trotted out after him - and when he went back to his room, she trotted back down the hall. Then, around 10:30, Janneke went to look for her again (there have been some piddling issues, and we get nervous whenever she's been AWOL for a while), and came back to report that Q was sound asleep, and Skittles was curled up next to his head, purring loudly. Not because she was being stroked or fed or anything - She was NEXT to him as he SLEPT, and this inspired her to PURR! What a cat. We hit the jackpot. (And I hereby knock on wood.)
And so I bring you some more photos of her. With us. In different positions.
There is video in the works as well...
OK, the Skittles photo doesn't want to upload, so here are some others. Also holiday-related, also gorgeous.
These are the madelines that Janneke made for Santa Claus. As good as they look, they tasted better.
We caught Hobie up where he shouldn't be when we came back from Mark and Ronadh's house, banging the door and singing as we came in. So when we saw him, we turned on some lights and went and got the camera and banged some cymbals together and lit some firecrackers and then took this picture. That is one old, deaf dog.
T in front of the Christmas tree, with her ballerina outfit. Why? Because we can.
Q reads to T. No kidding, straight-up reading to her. It's a magical time, when one can read and the other can't, and they get along, and you only have to prod them a little bit to get them to do it long enough to take a picture.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
1000 words
Here they are - the thousand words, I mean:
Yep, we are cat owners. I think what put us over the edge was an incident the other week, when Q saw me petting Hobie and came to see if he could piggy-back on it and pet Hobie too. Hobie will put up with being petted by them if Janneke or myself has him pretty well smothered in adult attention. But this time, as Q's hand approached, Hobie gave him a snarl, and Q collapsed against me and cried. Janneke and I looked at each other and pretty well decided, "They need a nice animal."
But Janneke doesn't want two dogs yet. So we compromised.
We didn't let the kids in on the idea until we were actually in the pet store in Pittsfield where the municipal animal shelter does adoptions on Saturdays. We had sold them on the story that we needed to get more food for Hobie (which was true), and that this was the reason we were in the store. And we just happened to wander back to the cat area and start pulling them out of the cages and playing with them in the little fenced-in area.
This cat really had no competition. She was friendly, if not desperate for attention, and active and playful, while just about all the others were sullen and preferred to hide under the bench. Never got a purr out of any of them but this one. We weren't in love, exactly - she was a long-haired cat, which we weren't crazy about, and our friends Brad and Betsy had just gotten a cat that was such a love-sponge that even our animal-love-starved kids eventually gave up on cuddling him and wandered off to do other things. That's really what we were looking for, and this one wasn't it.
But there was something we liked a lot - she seemed so wholesome and confident, and absolutely beautiful. I loved her little black ear tufts. And so we filled out the forms and by the time we got home, we had a message saying we had been approved.
I went on line last night to do some investigating about what to do with long-haired cats, whether one can effectively trim them, etc. And knowing that this was a semi-long-haired cat, I did an image search for such a thing, and came up with this:
And, I mean, whoah. That's the same cat. Here's another picture of ours - her eyes look a little glazed in this one, so I didn't want it to be your first impression, but it is more detailed, and the resemblance gets harder and harder to deny:
And the image was from a website that sells Maine Coon cats.
So I read about them, and found out that they're huuuuuge. The longest cat ever measured, apparently, was a Maine coon. And they're above-average in intelligence, and they're affectionate, but not clingy (bingo). And they are rumored to have bobcat somewhere in their genes - hence the ear-tufts. (Not sure I buy that.) But, I thought, why would this cat have no other bidders on it, if it's obviously of some fancy breed? Why would a breed kitten wind up being given away at the animal shelter?
Some of these questions were answered today when I went in to pick up the little gal. For starters, she had only just had her fixing surgery on the 22nd, so this was her first foray into being adoptable. And she wasn't found on the street - she was brought to the shelter by someone who had received her as a gift, and had turned out to be allergic. I asked, "Is she a Maine Coon?"
The woman at the shelter said, "Well, maybe she has some in her."
And then she picked her up and remarked, "Well, for 3 months old, she is pretty darn big. And she's really long."
I nodded. "I heard last night that the longest cat every measured was a Maine coon."
So I have no papers, but I'm just about sure: That's what we have. Here's what they look like when they get big:
I can't wait. But of course I can - she's been perfect so far. We bought her a cat tower, to which she took immediately. She's had two naps there so far today. She's used her litterbox and eaten out of her cat dish, and gets on perfectly well with Hobie, who pretty much ignores her. And right now she's on the floor with Q, frolicking. She is just great.
OOPS! - I forgot to tell you her name! Janneke came up with it. She's sunny and happy, and has lots of different colors. So that can only lead to...
"Skittles."
Bienvenida!
Yep, we are cat owners. I think what put us over the edge was an incident the other week, when Q saw me petting Hobie and came to see if he could piggy-back on it and pet Hobie too. Hobie will put up with being petted by them if Janneke or myself has him pretty well smothered in adult attention. But this time, as Q's hand approached, Hobie gave him a snarl, and Q collapsed against me and cried. Janneke and I looked at each other and pretty well decided, "They need a nice animal."
But Janneke doesn't want two dogs yet. So we compromised.
We didn't let the kids in on the idea until we were actually in the pet store in Pittsfield where the municipal animal shelter does adoptions on Saturdays. We had sold them on the story that we needed to get more food for Hobie (which was true), and that this was the reason we were in the store. And we just happened to wander back to the cat area and start pulling them out of the cages and playing with them in the little fenced-in area.
This cat really had no competition. She was friendly, if not desperate for attention, and active and playful, while just about all the others were sullen and preferred to hide under the bench. Never got a purr out of any of them but this one. We weren't in love, exactly - she was a long-haired cat, which we weren't crazy about, and our friends Brad and Betsy had just gotten a cat that was such a love-sponge that even our animal-love-starved kids eventually gave up on cuddling him and wandered off to do other things. That's really what we were looking for, and this one wasn't it.
But there was something we liked a lot - she seemed so wholesome and confident, and absolutely beautiful. I loved her little black ear tufts. And so we filled out the forms and by the time we got home, we had a message saying we had been approved.
I went on line last night to do some investigating about what to do with long-haired cats, whether one can effectively trim them, etc. And knowing that this was a semi-long-haired cat, I did an image search for such a thing, and came up with this:
And, I mean, whoah. That's the same cat. Here's another picture of ours - her eyes look a little glazed in this one, so I didn't want it to be your first impression, but it is more detailed, and the resemblance gets harder and harder to deny:
And the image was from a website that sells Maine Coon cats.
So I read about them, and found out that they're huuuuuge. The longest cat ever measured, apparently, was a Maine coon. And they're above-average in intelligence, and they're affectionate, but not clingy (bingo). And they are rumored to have bobcat somewhere in their genes - hence the ear-tufts. (Not sure I buy that.) But, I thought, why would this cat have no other bidders on it, if it's obviously of some fancy breed? Why would a breed kitten wind up being given away at the animal shelter?
Some of these questions were answered today when I went in to pick up the little gal. For starters, she had only just had her fixing surgery on the 22nd, so this was her first foray into being adoptable. And she wasn't found on the street - she was brought to the shelter by someone who had received her as a gift, and had turned out to be allergic. I asked, "Is she a Maine Coon?"
The woman at the shelter said, "Well, maybe she has some in her."
And then she picked her up and remarked, "Well, for 3 months old, she is pretty darn big. And she's really long."
I nodded. "I heard last night that the longest cat every measured was a Maine coon."
So I have no papers, but I'm just about sure: That's what we have. Here's what they look like when they get big:
I can't wait. But of course I can - she's been perfect so far. We bought her a cat tower, to which she took immediately. She's had two naps there so far today. She's used her litterbox and eaten out of her cat dish, and gets on perfectly well with Hobie, who pretty much ignores her. And right now she's on the floor with Q, frolicking. She is just great.
OOPS! - I forgot to tell you her name! Janneke came up with it. She's sunny and happy, and has lots of different colors. So that can only lead to...
"Skittles."
Bienvenida!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Snow Day Video
Howdy, fearless defenders of the faith! I bestow unto you herewith a moving daguerrotype depicting the way in which we here in the wilds of Western Massachusetts survive in the deepest and darkest of winters. Behold!, we are brave and strong:
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Birthday Boy Video!
Here it is! It's been a very productive couple of days, video-wise. So enjoy the fruits of my labors. And the fruit of my loins.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Adventures in Moving Pictures
So our friend Brad, the choir director at Williams, is starting a very nifty project, and, inspired by the emails we used to get as supporters of Barack Obama, in which there would be a video of the higher-ups in the campaign, he decided to make a video that he could embed in an email and send out to potential donors. He asked me to help him, and we brainstormed, shot script ideas back and forth, did some practice runs, and then sat down and filmed the $@!@#$(*^ thing. Brad then edited it together, and the result is linked below for your perusal. And i think it came out absolutely fabulous. Once the rubber hit the road, I ran the camera and flipped the cue cards, while Brad made the magic happen. Check it out, it's way cool:
My vacation started early on Friday. Snow day! Even though the snow didn't actually start falling until nearly noon, our beloved and exceedingly wise superintendent pulled the trigger and took no chances, forcing us to stay home for all of Friday. It was grand.
Today was grand too, though I did not get out and hunt. I'm feeling a little sickly again - nasal stuff this time. Not sure what to think. So I stayed in and rested. The snow has been glorious - we did quite a bit of video shooting yesterday and today, so hopefully I'll be able to get that up on here before too long. Been clearing some old projects out of the way - the video for Quinn's birthday, and another that's basically odds and ends from the summer that don't coalesce by themselves into a form that makes for a compelling narrative, but which I've concocted into a stew that might still be satisfying.
There - I did it! Here's Part 1:
And here's Part 2:
Q had his friend O over today, and they spent 90% of their time outside building a snow fort. There was this whole narrative going on of how they would defend themselves against "bullies" (I'm picturing thickset kids from 1935 with plugs of tabacky and slouch caps, slingshots poking out of their back pockets, the whole nine yards). It was cold out, too - never got above 19 degrees today. But through the miracle of snow pants, they were able to stay out the whole time. T went out for a good amount of the day as well, and they played with her beautifully - Y'know, he was here for hours, had lunch with us, and never, not once, was there a squabble, not only between O and Q, but among the three of them. They never got impatient with her, she never felt ignored...What a successful interaction.
O's Dad came and took him skiing at 4:30 or so, and we settled in for some video-watchin' (the video I may or may not get up tonight) and shower-takin' before supper, since after supper we were scheduled to go to our friend Ed's house, because Ed got tenure! (As did Nicole across the street - one of Rafi and Luca's moms!) He had us over for desserts and "grapa", an Italian licqueure (the computer tells me that's spelled wrong, but I forge bravely ahead, since most of the letters there look like they shouldn't be there, but I know that they're not all wrong, and so I'm paralyzed). It was very nice - the kids all sat and watched "The Wizard of Oz", thus enabling Janneke to keep the promise she had made T - that they would watch it tonight on TV, as it was to be broadcast.
T made Christmas cookies with Janneke today, and that's also in the video pipeline...Y'know, I should probably get my act together and start cooking up these videos rather than sit here and describe them to you. I got this one up - I'm on vacation, I can do the others too. Shouldn't take too long, provided I don't do any household chores. (Don't tell Janneke.)
My vacation started early on Friday. Snow day! Even though the snow didn't actually start falling until nearly noon, our beloved and exceedingly wise superintendent pulled the trigger and took no chances, forcing us to stay home for all of Friday. It was grand.
Today was grand too, though I did not get out and hunt. I'm feeling a little sickly again - nasal stuff this time. Not sure what to think. So I stayed in and rested. The snow has been glorious - we did quite a bit of video shooting yesterday and today, so hopefully I'll be able to get that up on here before too long. Been clearing some old projects out of the way - the video for Quinn's birthday, and another that's basically odds and ends from the summer that don't coalesce by themselves into a form that makes for a compelling narrative, but which I've concocted into a stew that might still be satisfying.
There - I did it! Here's Part 1:
And here's Part 2:
Q had his friend O over today, and they spent 90% of their time outside building a snow fort. There was this whole narrative going on of how they would defend themselves against "bullies" (I'm picturing thickset kids from 1935 with plugs of tabacky and slouch caps, slingshots poking out of their back pockets, the whole nine yards). It was cold out, too - never got above 19 degrees today. But through the miracle of snow pants, they were able to stay out the whole time. T went out for a good amount of the day as well, and they played with her beautifully - Y'know, he was here for hours, had lunch with us, and never, not once, was there a squabble, not only between O and Q, but among the three of them. They never got impatient with her, she never felt ignored...What a successful interaction.
O's Dad came and took him skiing at 4:30 or so, and we settled in for some video-watchin' (the video I may or may not get up tonight) and shower-takin' before supper, since after supper we were scheduled to go to our friend Ed's house, because Ed got tenure! (As did Nicole across the street - one of Rafi and Luca's moms!) He had us over for desserts and "grapa", an Italian licqueure (the computer tells me that's spelled wrong, but I forge bravely ahead, since most of the letters there look like they shouldn't be there, but I know that they're not all wrong, and so I'm paralyzed). It was very nice - the kids all sat and watched "The Wizard of Oz", thus enabling Janneke to keep the promise she had made T - that they would watch it tonight on TV, as it was to be broadcast.
T made Christmas cookies with Janneke today, and that's also in the video pipeline...Y'know, I should probably get my act together and start cooking up these videos rather than sit here and describe them to you. I got this one up - I'm on vacation, I can do the others too. Shouldn't take too long, provided I don't do any household chores. (Don't tell Janneke.)
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Upstate Theatricality
Hey, folks - It's really late, but I haven't given you the latest for a good little while, so I'll just shoot you some highlights quick before I hit the hay:
I was home sick two days last week with a stomach thing, and now T appears to be coming down with it. More on that later. Had an ultrasound done, I did, and an x-ray on the abdomen, and there were no knitting needles or staplers lodged down there. Other than that, I don't think we determined much.
Ain't seen hide nor hair neither of buck nor doe up yonder on Ragged Mountain. And that, again, is more than enough of that.
Hobie is ever more palsied and rickety. He still enjoys life, but the decline is becoming precipitous. More and more eye goo, deafness now that is all but total, a tendency to wander over to you and lean heavily, asking for attention like an old drunk hitting up a barely-recognized former gradeschool classmate for a drink...He followed me downstairs this morning for some reason, and I had to go back down and carry him up. Can't do hardwood stairs - his feet don't get enough purchase, and the slipperiness is more information than his brain can process. Stiff in the hips, paler and paler, shedding more and more...He's still nice to have around, but I suspect it won't be long. (Now watch him show up in Q's high school graduation photos.)
T has taken to preparing breakfast in the morning for whichever parent she can. I was home sick on Thursday and so was the recipient of a tray with any number of plastic food items on it. She doesn't ask permission, doesn't ask what you want - she just walks in, carefully balancing her brimming tray, and announces it to you. It is the warmest and most delightful thing anyone has ever experienced, ever.
Q spends probably a total of at least an hour of each home day at the piano - APART FROM practice time with Mami. And he isn't just hammering out "Crazy Frog" as fast as he can (though he does do that) - he's going ahead in his books and checking out what next week's lesson will bring, he's refining his attention to subtleties in the pieces he's working on how, he's inventing minor-key versions of songs he learned to play weeks ago, alternating between those and the major versions he's learned...It's fascinating to listen to. I'm scared to mess it up so I don't say much, but Janneke and I will just look at each other and smile when he heads that way. Best pile of money we ever spent.
Though the Dyson Ball vacuum cleaner is at the top of the list too. It is just brilliant. Spending the big bucks on a vacuum cleaner is so worth it. (Though the Rainbow was just waaay too much.)
Spent the afternoon today on a field trip to Schenectady, NY, where we watched a community theater production of a locally written and produced play called "The Land of the Night Before". I'm sure the theater group has a website somewhere - it was at the Proctor's complex, which has a giant theater (that was holding a performance of The Nutcracker today at the same time as our play, and which attracted a whole separate class of people, from what we could see - we had kind of had enough of that show last year, and so vowed to do a different sort of Christmas outing this year) and a smaller theater space a couple of doors down. They seem to dominate much of the old downtown in Schenectady. (I just revel in the fact that I can spell that. "Schenectady". Though I'm still not too clear on "Poughkeepsie".)
It was very "Waiting for Guffman" - original songs, local folks with well-hidden dreams of making it big, a cast of fifty-year-olds and seventh graders, hand-painted scenery, a spotlight that you could hear every time it fired up - I think they were actually shoveling coal into it. Not a big-budget production.
But over a hundred people, probably, clapping and laughing, and probably forty involved in the production. There was a lot to make fun of - and Janneke and I were sneaking sidelong glances at each other all afternoon. The plot was that there's this place where they're perpetually locked in "The Night Before..." - and nobody there knows what comes the next day, because the next day never comes. And some magical travelers come through and are perplexed by the situation - gifts that never ever get opened, trees that are circularly decorated and undecorated all day long - and you're sure, of course, that these travelers will show the people that the true joy of "The Holiday" ("Christmas" is never mentioned, which reeeeeally grated on us after not very long at all) is in its oh-so-ephemeral, and therefore, glorious, completion.
But no, in the end the travelers decide that the townspeople are better off being perpetually blue-balled by Christmas (sorry - "The Holiday That Shall Not Be Named"), and they all sing happily about how great it is never to achieve fulfillment. Which is just very, very weird. (Janneke was the first to connect "The Holiday" and "It" as something that good kids can play around with, and maybe even come close to, but can never actually do.)
But I can't bring myself to make too much fun of it, because we had this overwhelming impression throughout, for so many reasons, that the world is a far, far better place for having seen this production. The writers, the producers, the directors, the musicians, the actors, the stage hands, the volunteer ushers - Everyone was so tickled to be living their lives in this very full way, producing something that is new and is theirs, and which never would have been had they not come together as a community and done it. It was very appropriate to be in upstate New York and feel such a Bedford Falls-type event coming into being. I could almost see Bert the cop and Ernie the taxi driver sneaking into the chorus on a couple of numbers.
We had a lot of other things in common with "It's A Wonderful Life" too. T had taken her dramamine before the trip, and when the play started, and when its quality became pretty apparent, T started to complain about being sick. We assumed this was her being dramatic about her medicine, which she does a lot, as an excuse to not have to stay in the theater and be bored. So we told her we weren't going to leave, that she could lie down in our laps if she wanted but she wasn't getting out. "Am I gonna throw up?", she'd ask, with that strange belief that we would know, and that strange belief that whatever vaguely travel-related activity she partakes in might somehow result in vomit. Last time I'd heard it was when we got pulled over for a burnt-out tail light on the way to a movie. "No, T," we said, "you are not going to throw up. You're not sick, you just want to move, but you can't right now. Settle down and watch the play, please."
Then she threw up. So both T and Zuzu had holiday heaves. I caught some in my hands, Janneke some more in hers, and I carried her (T, not Janneke) to the bathroom and cleaned us both up. (I just now wonder how Janneke managed to clean herself off - she stayed behind with Q, who, by now, has seen T vomit so many times that he hardly even blinks. Just lifts his hands to protect his eyes and keeps watching. But, hey, I shouldn't worry about how or if she managed to clean up. This is Janneke. She probably has a firehose and an autoclave in her purse - I'm sure she did just fine.) Then T and I went down to the lobby and hung out on a big comfy couch, waiting for intermission and talking about penguins. She felt a lot better, and was able to go in and see the second half of the show, where the giant snowman was finally vanquished and Yule, the magical stranger, overcame his self-doubt and realized with triumphant zeal that he should give up on this whole idea of helping people to actually experience their lives and pretty much just leave well enough alone. Huzzah!
Home to Chinese food, piano lessons, bedtime stories and bedtime. Which I am soon to experience.
I was home sick two days last week with a stomach thing, and now T appears to be coming down with it. More on that later. Had an ultrasound done, I did, and an x-ray on the abdomen, and there were no knitting needles or staplers lodged down there. Other than that, I don't think we determined much.
Ain't seen hide nor hair neither of buck nor doe up yonder on Ragged Mountain. And that, again, is more than enough of that.
Hobie is ever more palsied and rickety. He still enjoys life, but the decline is becoming precipitous. More and more eye goo, deafness now that is all but total, a tendency to wander over to you and lean heavily, asking for attention like an old drunk hitting up a barely-recognized former gradeschool classmate for a drink...He followed me downstairs this morning for some reason, and I had to go back down and carry him up. Can't do hardwood stairs - his feet don't get enough purchase, and the slipperiness is more information than his brain can process. Stiff in the hips, paler and paler, shedding more and more...He's still nice to have around, but I suspect it won't be long. (Now watch him show up in Q's high school graduation photos.)
T has taken to preparing breakfast in the morning for whichever parent she can. I was home sick on Thursday and so was the recipient of a tray with any number of plastic food items on it. She doesn't ask permission, doesn't ask what you want - she just walks in, carefully balancing her brimming tray, and announces it to you. It is the warmest and most delightful thing anyone has ever experienced, ever.
Q spends probably a total of at least an hour of each home day at the piano - APART FROM practice time with Mami. And he isn't just hammering out "Crazy Frog" as fast as he can (though he does do that) - he's going ahead in his books and checking out what next week's lesson will bring, he's refining his attention to subtleties in the pieces he's working on how, he's inventing minor-key versions of songs he learned to play weeks ago, alternating between those and the major versions he's learned...It's fascinating to listen to. I'm scared to mess it up so I don't say much, but Janneke and I will just look at each other and smile when he heads that way. Best pile of money we ever spent.
Though the Dyson Ball vacuum cleaner is at the top of the list too. It is just brilliant. Spending the big bucks on a vacuum cleaner is so worth it. (Though the Rainbow was just waaay too much.)
Spent the afternoon today on a field trip to Schenectady, NY, where we watched a community theater production of a locally written and produced play called "The Land of the Night Before". I'm sure the theater group has a website somewhere - it was at the Proctor's complex, which has a giant theater (that was holding a performance of The Nutcracker today at the same time as our play, and which attracted a whole separate class of people, from what we could see - we had kind of had enough of that show last year, and so vowed to do a different sort of Christmas outing this year) and a smaller theater space a couple of doors down. They seem to dominate much of the old downtown in Schenectady. (I just revel in the fact that I can spell that. "Schenectady". Though I'm still not too clear on "Poughkeepsie".)
It was very "Waiting for Guffman" - original songs, local folks with well-hidden dreams of making it big, a cast of fifty-year-olds and seventh graders, hand-painted scenery, a spotlight that you could hear every time it fired up - I think they were actually shoveling coal into it. Not a big-budget production.
But over a hundred people, probably, clapping and laughing, and probably forty involved in the production. There was a lot to make fun of - and Janneke and I were sneaking sidelong glances at each other all afternoon. The plot was that there's this place where they're perpetually locked in "The Night Before..." - and nobody there knows what comes the next day, because the next day never comes. And some magical travelers come through and are perplexed by the situation - gifts that never ever get opened, trees that are circularly decorated and undecorated all day long - and you're sure, of course, that these travelers will show the people that the true joy of "The Holiday" ("Christmas" is never mentioned, which reeeeeally grated on us after not very long at all) is in its oh-so-ephemeral, and therefore, glorious, completion.
But no, in the end the travelers decide that the townspeople are better off being perpetually blue-balled by Christmas (sorry - "The Holiday That Shall Not Be Named"), and they all sing happily about how great it is never to achieve fulfillment. Which is just very, very weird. (Janneke was the first to connect "The Holiday" and "It" as something that good kids can play around with, and maybe even come close to, but can never actually do.)
But I can't bring myself to make too much fun of it, because we had this overwhelming impression throughout, for so many reasons, that the world is a far, far better place for having seen this production. The writers, the producers, the directors, the musicians, the actors, the stage hands, the volunteer ushers - Everyone was so tickled to be living their lives in this very full way, producing something that is new and is theirs, and which never would have been had they not come together as a community and done it. It was very appropriate to be in upstate New York and feel such a Bedford Falls-type event coming into being. I could almost see Bert the cop and Ernie the taxi driver sneaking into the chorus on a couple of numbers.
We had a lot of other things in common with "It's A Wonderful Life" too. T had taken her dramamine before the trip, and when the play started, and when its quality became pretty apparent, T started to complain about being sick. We assumed this was her being dramatic about her medicine, which she does a lot, as an excuse to not have to stay in the theater and be bored. So we told her we weren't going to leave, that she could lie down in our laps if she wanted but she wasn't getting out. "Am I gonna throw up?", she'd ask, with that strange belief that we would know, and that strange belief that whatever vaguely travel-related activity she partakes in might somehow result in vomit. Last time I'd heard it was when we got pulled over for a burnt-out tail light on the way to a movie. "No, T," we said, "you are not going to throw up. You're not sick, you just want to move, but you can't right now. Settle down and watch the play, please."
Then she threw up. So both T and Zuzu had holiday heaves. I caught some in my hands, Janneke some more in hers, and I carried her (T, not Janneke) to the bathroom and cleaned us both up. (I just now wonder how Janneke managed to clean herself off - she stayed behind with Q, who, by now, has seen T vomit so many times that he hardly even blinks. Just lifts his hands to protect his eyes and keeps watching. But, hey, I shouldn't worry about how or if she managed to clean up. This is Janneke. She probably has a firehose and an autoclave in her purse - I'm sure she did just fine.) Then T and I went down to the lobby and hung out on a big comfy couch, waiting for intermission and talking about penguins. She felt a lot better, and was able to go in and see the second half of the show, where the giant snowman was finally vanquished and Yule, the magical stranger, overcame his self-doubt and realized with triumphant zeal that he should give up on this whole idea of helping people to actually experience their lives and pretty much just leave well enough alone. Huzzah!
Home to Chinese food, piano lessons, bedtime stories and bedtime. Which I am soon to experience.
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