Category Archives: Family

Violin Debacle

The discussion of bands and band instruments the other day reminded me of something that I haven’t thought about in quite a while.

When Child was in the third grade, she came home with a permission slip and information on joining orchestra at school. I was a little skeptical.  When she was five, she wanted to take piano lessons but after 2 months, her piano teacher fired her.  She didn’t want to practice and then at the last lesson apparently she was rude to him (I was in the kitchen when this happened, so didn’t witness it).  She hadn’t made any other overtures toward an instrument, or even music in general, so I was surprised when she informed me she wanted to play the violin.

I always wanted to let her try things, so I read through the papers and signed her up. Luckily the school had a violin she could use for free and the next day she carried it proudly home.  Then for the next week she proceeded to torture the poor thing horrendously.  I can’t even begin to describe it but whatever you’re imagining right now, amp it up.  The dog and cat hightailed it as far away as they could get from her.  I wanted to jump off a cliff, but since that’s not very encouraging to a kid, I pasted a smile on my face and ate a lot of chocolate.  At one point I thought, is it really that hard to make a decent noise on a violin, so while she was at gymnastics, I tried it.  I certainly wasn’t going to win any awards, but I could at least pull the bow across the strings to make a sound somewhat reminiscent of music. So there it was; Child had no violin ability.  Still I let her scratch on because I figured I’d let the music teacher do whatever dirty work was needed.

By the end of the second week, she was practicing much less. While this made all the ears in the household happier, I knew it meant she was losing interest.  The third week she didn’t practice at all, despite my reminders.  There was a practice book in which she was supposed to record how much time she spent playing; I told her that if she wasn’t going to practice she had to be honest and put down “0” or it wouldn’t be fair to Mr. Brown, the music teacher.  So she marked all the days with a “0” and off she went to school.  When she came home that afternoon and she still had the violin, I was a little surprised but not nearly as surprised as when I looked at her practice book and where there had been “0”s that morning, there were now numbers on every day.  10 minutes, 20 minutes, one even said 30 minutes.  She had erased the “0”s when she got to school and written in her false data.

While I appreciated her ingenuity, I couldn’t let this go, so I made an appointment with Mr. Brown, took her with me and had her tell him what she had done and then apologize. He was AMAZING.  He was very kind and understanding.  He asked her if she really wanted to continue and when she said “yes” (I just about fell on the floor), he suggested they give it another week.  Of course she didn’t even pick up the violin the next week so we went in again and met with Mr. Brown to give him the violin back.  She never looked back.

Is there something that you just don’t a talent for?

Caregiver Update

The orthopedic office was busy but inside the treatment room, it was pretty quiet. “In 99% of these kinds of breaks, we put on a cast and they heal up on their own.”  I was momentarily elated.  Then he turned to YA and said “Unfortunately, you are in the 1%.”  Surgery is scheduled for Tuesday.

She is in better shape than a week ago, but both ankles are still quite swollen, sore and hideously discolored, so for the most part she is hanging out on her bed, using my studio chair to roll herself down the hall to the bathroom and back. For the two doctor appointments this week, she literally had to scoot down the stairs on her backside and then use the crutches to get to the car.  This takes quite a while.

Even if she gets downstairs, she’s not stable enough on the crutches to do anything, so all meals are being prepared by me. I’m doing all dog and cat duty as well as YA’s other chores (vacuuming, garbage/recycling, poop patrol in the yard, mopping) as well as her laundry and, it goes without saying at our house, her dishes.  In addition, because her dog (Guinevere) has a teeny tiny bladder, I’ve been going home over lunch every day to let the dogs out.  I’m also the go-to for discussions of workers’ comp, insurance, appointments, etc. None of this is physically taxing work but I’m tired anyway.  When the alarm went off this morning, only the knowledge that my alarm clock is a fancy-dancy expensive thing kept me from sweeping it off the nightstand!

My kudos and admiration to everyone who has ever had an extended period of care-giving. Real heroes in my book.

Have you ever had to be a care-giver? Been the care-give?

Staying Connected

Day Three of the Fair — first day for YA and I together. As we were sitting on the bus at the Park n Ride, YA says “I left my phone in the car”.  The bus driver had already announced that as soon as the bus was full, he was taking off even it was a little early.  When I asked YA if she wanted to go retrieve her phone, the driver made another announcement; YA didn’t want to wait for the next bus so said she didn’t need her phone.

I almost laughed out loud. I shoved her off the bus and we sprinted back to the car, grabbed her phone and made it back to the bus before it left, although we had to stand at that point.  I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending 8 hours with a young person who didn’t have their phone, even if it meant waiting for the next bus.  A couple of hours later, while she was taking pictures of bunnies, she thanked me for going back for the phone.

Any essential items you need to take if you’re spending a day out and about?

I Shoulda Known Better…

On our second day at the Fair, YA and I hit the Ag Building a little before lunch. She surprised me by asking if we could check out the Minnesota beers.  The surprise is because not only have I never had a beer at the Fair, she doesn’t drink much at all and I’ve never known her to drink beer.  But keeping an open mind, we went and looked at the Minnesota beers.  If you haven’t been to the Fair the last few years, you can now get four smallish cups of beer – there are about six different “themes”; you do not get to mix and match.  After looking at them all and asking if there were “sample sizes”, YA said no to beer.

We wandered around a bit more, petted some more baby animals and then found a good spot for the parade, right across from the International Market. After the parade, we headed over to the market to see what kind of good foods we might find and as we went, we passed the Schmidt Brewery store front where they do a flight of three beers.  One of them was a “fruity” and YA asked if we could get a flight to share.  I am not a beer drinker but I figured we were splitting 3 small cups, so even though I felt SURE that this wasn’t a good idea, we went for it.

The fruity one had grapefruit in it. I knew after one sip, that I wouldn’t be having more of that one.  YA felt the same, so we dumped that one.  YA kept the pale ale and I took the last one.  It really wasn’t to my taste, so after a couple more swallows, that one went in the trash as well.  Then YA baled on the pale ale, leaving it to me.  I was forcing myself to drink it, thinking if I didn’t, it was a complete waste of the money I’d spent.  I made it about 2/3 of the way through the small cup before I realized that the money was gone and my having a terrible time wouldn’t bring the money back.  Into the trash it went.  So I figure together we only drank about ¾ of one small cup.  Then we each got a lemonade to wash away the beer taste!

When was the last time you did something against your better judgment?

Gender Bender

I have followed with some dismay the recent criticism of poor little Prince George for taking ballet lessons, and was glad to see the support of his dancing by other media figures and dancers.  Our son studied ballet for 12 years. It helped with some of his motor coordination problems from his prematurity. He channeled it into a study of the martial arts in college, and now he can break a board on his head!  He still retains some dance moves, and it is amusing to see all 6’5″, 250 lbs. of him doing a pas de chat (dance of the cat) down the sidewalk.

I did not encounter much gender bias growing up. My parents encouraged me to do what I wanted to do. I remember being outraged at about age 5 when I was told I couldn’t run around outside without a  shirt, though. Most of my cousins were boys, so I played lots of sports with them and tagged along with them as they did their boy activities like building model cars and tree houses, stockpiling fire crackers, making homemade cannons, and setting pocket gopher traps.

I remember that boys with non-traditional interests had a harder time of it.  I remember the discomfort people back home had when a boy became the first male cheerleader at my high school.  It looks like, given poor Prince George,  that things haven’t changed much. I hope he keeps dancing. Maybe he will do a pas de chat through Westminister Abbey at his coronation.

What gender bias did you encounter or witness growing up?

What Are Your Plans For The Weekend?

I think everyone I encountered yesterday asked me what my plans were for Labor Day weekend. This weekend is typically a time when Husband and I work our tails off in the garden and at home preserving produce and cleaning. I will make pesto, and I may have a few tomatoes to deal with, but I haven’t any other plans. I could spend a lot of time cleaning, but I don’t think I have it in me.

Husband suggested we go to the Dunn County Fair in Killdeer, a town about 40 miles north of us. It would be fun to see the 4-H exhibits, but the husband and wife calling contests don’t hold much interest for me.  You Baboons able to attend the Minnesota State Fair are sure lucky! I have made it clear to Husband that we will not frenetically bake or cook this weekend.  We need to eat out of the freezers, and that is that!

What are your plans for the weekend? Any memorable Labor Day weekends in your past?

Leading Me Astray and Egging Me On

Daughter has done it again. She has cast out her net of excitement and wild ideas and caught me.

The other day she sent a photo via text. It was identical to the header photo, which is a shot of Hallstatt, Austria. “Mom!! Isn’t this place beautiful? Wouldn’t this be nice over Christmas!! We fly to Munich and then take the train. I’ll pay for my own airline ticket. Just think of the Christmas markets!”  She says this at a very rapid pace.

I said a trip like that takes a lot of planning. She replies, “Ok.  Let’s go the Christmas of 2020!! We will have lots of time to plan and save our money. Oh, Mom! Think of the Christmas markets!”  I feel myself sliding down the slippery slope to consider this seriously.  Daughter knows that if I am in favor of something like this, it will happen. Husband always says he wants his two beauties to be happy, and Daughter knows if I agree to something, her father will go along with it.

Husband chimes in “I think that is a historically interesting place.  The Celts settled there, and there are ancient salt mines.” He then goes to the basement to get a book about the region.

I think, well, it isn’t that far from the area of Germany where Husband’s family hales from. Maybe we could visit Stuttgart and Wurttemberg as long as we were there. Husband has always wanted to do that.  I tell her I will contact our travel agent and get her working on it.

This is how we ended up in Europe three years ago. Daughter gets an idea, and then we just run with it. There are very few people who can propel me on adventures like my daughter can.

How do people convince you to do things you wouldn’t normally do?  Who in your family was (or is) good at getting you into trouble?

Zinnias

Every year Husband insists on planting Zinnias from seed. He had some standard varieties he likes (Oklahoma is one) and gets ones of differing heights for the back and front of the flower bed.  Every spring I think he is silly about this, and every August I admit that they are the highlights of the late summer garden.  They are the only annuals we plant. He is already searching last year’s seed catalogue s for other varieties  for next year.

  • What are your favorite annual flowers? How do you plan your gardens?

 

Kitchen Captives

Two weeks ago,  Husband ordered some sourdough starter from King Arthur Flour. Until this point he had been a haphazard, sourdough self starter, making a starter and then discarding it when he felt like it. This time, he bought a deceptively small container with about a tablespoon of starter in it. It has held us captive ever since it arrived.

Husband followed the instructions for starter care religiously. This meant refreshing the starter ever 6-8 hours the first couple of days. This involved taking  4 ounces of  the growing  starter to which you add 4 ounces of flour and 4 ounces of water. You discard any starter beyond the 4 ounces, saving the discard for pancakes and waffles, or whatever else you want.  There are only so many sourdough waffles, pancakes, and biscuits a person can consume every day.

Last weekend we made 10 loaves of a variety of breads. Our freezers are full. I feel trapped in my kitchen by this demanding starter. It reminds me of the man eating plant in Little Shop of Horrors.  It is like having a new pet in the house. Husband says he will freeze the starter soon to bring peace and serenity to our home.

What responsibility have you taken on that you have come to regret?

 

My Smart Kitty Boy

I’ve told the tale of Zorro joining our household before but I’m not sure I have ever told about how smart he was.  Here’s one story of his intelligence.

Zorro was a scratcher. I’ve known a lot of cats over the years (other people’s cats) and no one could scratch like Zorro.  And he scratched everything: sofa, beds, tables, piano bench, speakers.  Everything.  I tried every technique you can think of to re-direct him.  Multiple kitty scratching posts, catnip spray (to entice him to the posts), cans with pennies, squirt bottles, double-sided tape, aluminum foil, bitter apple spray.  I even tried little shields that you put onto the kitty’s claws.  Take it from me, don’t try this.  You’ll get damaged doing it and within 24 hours, the kitty will have chewed half of them off.

I know that de-clawing a cat is an awful thing to do. I know exactly what they do and I know that many vets will not do the procedure.  I had a long talk with my vet and as much as I loved Zorro, it was coming down to keeping Zorro without claws or having to find Zorro a new home.  This was a terrible decision and I flip-flopped back and forth for over a month.  But he was literally scratching his way through the house.  The day I caught him scratching the piano leg (ignoring the kitty post that was 12” from him), I knew I had to act.

Suffice it to say that it was a rough surgery and he ended up staying at the vet two extra days so that they could keep him contained and quiet. After he got home, he limped for two weeks, breaking my heart with every step.  I knew I was going straight to kitty-owner’s hell.  Then one afternoon, I was standing in the kitchen and from where I was located, I could see Zorro up on the buffet in the dining room, but he didn’t see me.  He jumped down and walked toward the kitchen with no limp whatsoever.  As he crossed the threshold into the kitchen, he looked up and saw me; he immediately sat down and lifted up his “sore” paw.  I snorted at him and told him he was busted; he must have heard my intonation or maybe he just knew the gig was up.  He never limped again.

So all those folks who think cats aren’t smart because they can’t be trained like a dog, I say, you didn’t know Zorro!

Have you ever been scammed?