Arioso

Araceli played beautifully in her last recital.  I have to say, she made definite improvement on Arioso the last week before the recital.  The video is terrible quality because I wanted to just listen, but I thought I'd record it for Scott.  It was a half-hearted recording because I wasn't sure if the performance would go well.  There had been intonation struggles.  Both her teacher and I were delighted at how our girl pulled it out.  Too bad you can't see her for half the video!  I'm so proud of Araceli and how she has taken the cello and made it her own.  Here is Arioso, played by beautiful Araceli and her teacher, Elliott Cheney. 

There was a moment during the recital that made me sad.  It was the day after the Paris attacks, so everything made me sad, but for some reason this one small gesture hit me.  An advanced student was playing absolutely gorgeously, and he had a memory slip.  His mom had been recording, but when the memory slip happened, she quietly turned off the camera and set her phone down.  I don't even know why that made me sad.  It was as if the boy had failed in some way, when really he had achieved a lovely performance, and that day, I just wanted something to be perfect.  I know it's pretty useless to have a recording of a performance you botched, and I probably would have done the same thing as that mom.  I think I was all choked up not only because it made me sad, but also because it reminded me that it's after the mistakes are made, and the pressure is off, that we can enjoy the next step.  For this boy, the next step was finishing the performance beautifully.  For the mom, it was sitting back and enjoying the music.  By the end of the piece, the flub was barely important anymore.  It was a little metaphor for life, that mistakes are made, but that time moves past those mistakes, and we have to, as well.  Hopefully at the end of it all, only the beauty remains.  It's OK not to capture the imperfections.  It's OK to let the good things flood in and wash away the bad, and it's OK to forget the bad.  There's that Psalm, "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning."  The joy will come, but not if you keep reminding yourself that it was dark.  Let the light shine in.

Wow, and I got all that from some kid's cello performance.  That's what happens when there are terrorists wreaking their godless havoc.  We somehow have to find a way to let the light in.  Thank heavens for music.

Ptolemy's Day Off

Ptolemy had a dentist appointment.  Afterwards, he looked up at me with his eager, bright eyes and said, "Am I going to school now?"  I couldn't part with him, so I said, "No, it's your day off!"

The kid took it and ran with it!  Ferris Bueller has nothing on Tolly.  He relished every moment.  We went to the dinosaur park in Ogden with Tizzy and Ro.  I let Ptolemy lead the way, since he'd been there before with his preschool class.  He felt very important and kept telling the girls, "I'm in charge because it's my day off." This boy is decidedly not short on joie de vivre.  Everything is magical to him, and in turn he makes everything magical.

That night, Scott let Ptolemy sleep in Golda's room with him.  He called it a slumber party.  Ptolemy exuded, "It really IS my day off!!"  For the six years of Tolly's life, I have learned to embrace the moment in a way that I'm not sure I would have learned without this boy.  He is a gift to our family.  I look at him and think, if he can be this enthusiastic, I can too.  Well, not quite as enthusiastic as Ptolemy.  It would look weird on a grown woman if I were squealing for joy about sitting on a giant turtle.  On Ptolemy, the attitude is perfect.

Exploring in the gully with Abe after his "Day off."

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

This is a great picture of Bruce.  We had just given him a bag of gummy ears for his birthday.  Who knows why anyone would manufacture gummy ears, but it was the perfect gift for Bruce.  He's always telling the kids he's going to take a bite of their ears.

We want to wish Bruce, AKA Grandpa, a happy birthday.  He is generous with his time and energy, and never says no to any opportunity to help and serve his family, friends, neighbors and church community.  He is a calming presence, and a fun one.  I don't know anyone who doesn't love to be around Bruce.  He and Marlene live to give.  Their example of service is really unrivaled, and one I hope Scott and I  can emulate as our children grow up.

The best example of their devotion to their family and friends is the cabin they built.  It gets bigger every year, and everyone is welcome to come to Idaho and see all the intricate details of their vision.  It's remarkable.  I could list all of Bruce's attributes; humility, talent, creativity, devotion...OK, I guess I'll list his attributes after all.  There are so many more, but I don't want him to get too cocky.  ;)

Thanks, Bruce, for setting the bar so high on what a man should be.  Scott learned well, and our whole family is benefiting from your example.  We know for sure, because of your actions, that you love your kids, and there was never a question as to where you prefer to spend your time.  We are aware of the unmeasurable benefits of having parents who prize their children above all else, and we know of that ideal because of you and Marlene.  I'm sure you'll spend your birthday doing things for people, and I hope it's a good day!  We love you!

Chinese, Real and Pretend :)

My Chinese class.  They were extraordinary.  I loved working with them so much.  Very professional 10-year-olds!

This might be the most precious picture of all time.  I love this little Sugarplum.

These are the women who have shaped my children.  My kids have spend hours and hours under thier watchful care.  I can't express how grateful I am for their strong influence in our lives, which can hardly be overstated, and how grateful I am to be one of them.

Cute sugarplums!

Snow

Scott and I sat in the audience for the first act during dress rehearsal with our precious little two.  Tziporah couldn't keep her eyes open as the snow drifted down over Ruby and the other Corps dancers.  I don't blame her.  Nutcracker Week is tiring, but so worth it.  I love every minute.  Ptolemy does, too.  He was pretty proud of himself for getting to see the show twice.  Ruby was just beautiful in Snow and Waltz.  I don't know which I love more, they're both so iconic and soul-quenching.  Ruby's dancing is gorgeous.  All the girls were the picture of perfection, really.  I love each of them.

Mice and Gifts

Freestone's face looks like how I feel!

Freestone has had a great time being a mouse this year.  He was bursting with excitement when Clytie told him his part, and he really hasn't come down off Cloud Nine.  Nutcracker season has absolutely flown by these last 11 weeks.  It was incredibly nice to have all 4 of our kids make it, as opposed to just some of them.  The scheduling worked out that we had 7 extra classes a week with Nutcracker, one for each day of the week!  Except Sunday; there must have been 2 on one of the days.  My Chinese class was on Monday nights.  I loved my 10 girls.  They were easy, quiet and cooperative, and they were wonderful dancers.  We had a good time.

Last fight scene rehearsal

Last Chinese rehearsal

Last finale, reaching for Clara as she leaves the Land of the Sugarplum Fairy.

Curtain calls

Araceli bought these in California for her fellow Ladies-in-Waiting.

Ruby chose strands of Christmas lights for the 30 Corps dancers.

Read Freestone's note to Sarah, his teacher.  He's funny.

Xanthe, the sugarplum, gave this gift - sadly modest - with a note that said, "Nutcracker has been just plummy!"  I wish we could give big gifts like some of the kids, but we're looking at 60 gifts here!  The dollar store is my best friend.

Freestone had to give a funny gift, given his personality.  I was thinking mouse poop when I bought the coal, but he didn't want to go that far.  So it was coal, because the mice are evil.  I love watching the fight scene with Freestone under one of those big mouse heads.  I sneaked into one of the rehearsals to watch and one of the mice gave me a high five.  I was guessing it was Annie, because she's just that friendly.  I was telling Freestone afterwards that Annie had given me a high five.  He said, "Mom, that was ME!"  We laughed so hard!  I guess I just never pegged Freestone for a high five kind of guy.  You never know what personality traits will come out when you're inside of a furry mouse furnace of a costume!

Les Miserables

The terrorist attacks were Friday, and Saturday was Les Miserable at Davis High.  What a timely show to sit through.  I was teary-eyed for most of it, but when it came to "Bring Him Home," it was very moving.  Niall Thorley (Curly in last year's Oklahoma that my kids were in, if you saw that) nailed every note.  Empty Chairs at Empty Tables was another tear jerker.  The terrorists were very savvy about their targets, going after young, progressive, integrated Parisians in diverse, non-tourist neighborhoods, to drive home the point that this could happen anywhere, to anyone.  I just kept thinking about all those empty chairs and empty tables the next day.  Reporters seemed extremely shaken as they reported the aftermath.  One observed that the cafe that was the scene of one massacre hadn't been cleaned up yet.  Everyone was in a state of shock.  And yet, four days later, the Eiffel Tower was lit up in a brilliant blue, white and red, adorned with the Latin words, "fluctuat nec mergitur,' bringing to mind a ship that is "tossed but not sunk."  Our French friends all told us that they were not afraid.  They're resilient and defiant, and they're showing it.

My mom and Trajan and Micaela and her mom are still in Paris, sad and shaken.  They'll have to tell the story of their experience when they get home in a couple of weeks.  For now, we try to make sense of the world, and follow the example of the French ideals of living life to the fullest.

This is the distinction between the historical characters in Les Miz, who led a failed revolution, and the people who were killed last week in Paris.  "The people who died this evening were outside living, drinking, singing.  They didn't know that they had declared war."

The first moments after my friend Michelle Fitzgerald alerted me and I contacted my mom.  They had been at a movie that night.

Throwback to '89

Friday was a hectic day.  And I mean, not just the regular stuff.  Scott and I bought a new car, and while we were signing the papers, the Paris attacks were happening.  We were getting updates from Trajan and my mom, as well as dozens of texts asking if our family members were safe.  We were the easiest car customers ever.  We basically had time to race to the dealership, point to the car we wanted, look under the hood and pretend to know stuff, and promise to return two hours later on the way to guitar to claim our new ride.

Rand's Auto was incredibly efficient, and also understanding when I kept gasping and tearing up whilst signing the paperwork, as whatsapps kept coming in like this one:  "They're shooting the hostages one by one."  I couldn't even wrap my head around the juxtaposition of the mayhem and tragedy, and the spotless new car I was driving off the lot alone, Scott and Ruby having gone to her lesson.

Knowing my family was safe, I had to put aside the ongoing events in Paris as I picked up Freestone at ballet.  He didn't recognize me in the new car!  I wanted it to be fun and exciting for the kids, even as my heart was broken for the hostages that had just been shot.  I dropped Freestone off at his campout with his sleeping bag and took Xanthe and Jade to their Chinese playgroup.  On our old van, the rear passenger door doesn't open, and if it does, it won't close, and if it closes, it still thinks it's open, so a buzzer continuously whines.  When Xanthe went to get in the new car, she clarified, "Does this door open?  Which doors open?"  Sad!  But not so sad.  Old cars are the least of people's problems, and I've been happy to drive my Odyssey.  It's a member of the family.  But it's kinda gotten like Mephisto, the cat I grew up with.  At 18 years old, Mephisto was blind, deaf, incontinent, weighed two pounds, and was schizophrenic about whether he wanted to be petted or take a bite out of your hand.  That kind of member of the family.  I never knew when the van was going to come up with a new flashing warning light or another door that refused to close.

At the end of this nightmare/celebratory day loomed an island of respite:  Mike and Sarah hosted a long-overdue gathering of our high school friends.  These are people I have spent countless hours with, mostly doing absolutely nothing.  Some of them are people whom I know so well, I remember exactly what their rooster tail looked like in the school picture in 3rd grade, or the purse they were carrying when the Challenger space shuttle blew up in 1986.  We've sneaked off to concerts together in Rome and been lost in the rain in Florence.  We cried together on the last day of high school.  We survived missions and college and dating and bottle rockets.  Some of these friends, of course, were brought into the fold through marriage, and yet I feel as bonded to them as if they had been there the whole time.

These are my people.  And Friday, I needed my people.  I looked around at these friends and just felt totally at peace.  We all made it!  We're old enough that we don't care what people think, and young enough that the conversation isn't yet all about our health problems.  We've arrived!  These people are beautiful in every way, and if they weren't, I'd never know it because I love them so much.  Thanks for hosting, Scheullers.  It was perfect.

Ballet West Smorgasbord

This was my little band of concertgoers last week for the ballet.  I accidentally typed in "concertogers.  Concert ogres.  Ha ha.  That should be a thing.  They weren't ogres, though.  They were all well behaved and enjoyed the performance very much.  Except Nana, who didn't go, and stayed home snug and warm.  

These two stole my phone during intermission and pretended to be bored and sleepy, when they were anything but.  The first piece was a Fancy Free, Bernstein piece that's a study for the musical On the Town. Highly entertaining, and with 3 male soloiss, it was fun for Freestone to see, as we're the other two pieces, in terms of super strong male dancers. Second piece was Overgrown Path, a beautiful barefoot modern piece with music by Janacek, one of my favorite composers, and one you don't get to hear too much. The third piece, highly aerobic and athletic, was Bizet's Symphony in C with crazy-demanding Balanchine choreography. We were all in awe.

I love Ballet West's First Look program, that invites dancers to see the dress rehearsal for free. Salt Lake is an incredible place for the arts. 

Singing

Just wanted you to see how cute they are. Primary program. They love to sing, both of these sweeties. And they're adorable. I love those precious faces.

Kay's Cross

We have had such a long, golden autumn here.  It's been divine.  Every day, I want to be outside, afraid it's the last good day.  Then we have another one.  Abe and Ptolemy annihilated the Halloween pumpkins for us, with a couple of kitchen knives.  Dull knives are dangerous.  I should have given them something sharper.  Every little boy should have a pocket knife, right?  I've been remiss in my training of boys.  Dull tools cause a lot worse injuries than sharp tools, but they seemed to do ok smashing the pumpkins, mostly by throwing them on the ground.  The delight they took in the destruction was highly entertaining.

This is what happens when Ruby has a free moment.  I came home to find the kitchen covered wall to wall with art projects, our three littles and Josh and Emily's three happily working away, Ruby overseeing the projects from the couch.  She is a natural with children.  If it were up to her, she wouldn't be in school learning more stuff, she'd be in a third world orphanage teaching things and nurturing kids.  For now, she has her students.

We've undertaken several expeditions into the back yard this week.  The kids, especially Freestone, are quite familiar with this territory.  I explored endlessly back there on "the trails" as a kid, so the terrain is vaguely familiar to me, too.  It's a boon that we can take ten steps from our house and be immersed in wilderness.  Sunday, we did two walks that came out behind the school.  Tizzy was so happy, and said, "Mama, are you excited to get lost?!"  Later, she started feeling like maybe we really were lost.  It had been a long time since we started!  She fretted, "This was your idea, Mama, and now Daddy will never find us!  We're lost!"

We weren't lost.  Freestone was our leader and knew exactly where we were.  That didn't stop him from playing into Tizzy's worry by telling her we'd have to sleep out there with the deer.  Tizzy loves to be worried and scared.  She's so funny!  The kid loves a good thrill.

Second "round-about" of the day, just Scott and me, getting some perspective on life.  The people that own the land run a spook alley on it, at an area called Kay's Cross, where there's a stone tower.  We ran into some of them packing it up and putting it away.  It sounded terrifying!  They had dug a tunnel that guests have to crawl through after getting into a "coffin."  In the tunnel, "monsters" are hiding in side tunnels to jump out and scare people.  Tizzy might think that's thrilling, but just the idea of it makes my heart race!  I'd rather just go on a walk, thank you!