Synchronicity Happens

 This week has been Dance Company workshops in preparation for try-outs, which are today.  Golda thought it would be a good week to invite Dance Company over for lunch, celebrating the final concert last week and the final days of their group, before new people come on board for next year.  The girls don't have a lot of time for lunch, maybe a half hour, so we talked about what would be quick and not too fussy.  When I found out Ari's surgery was scheduled for the day of the lunch, I wondered how I was going to pull off both.  As it turned out, the day ran like clockwork, Scott taking Ari to the hospital while I was on piano/violin lesson/seminary/preschool duty at home.  I usually pick up Einstein's en route to Nana's, and I wondered how I would fit in a trip to Bountiful, but - wonder of wonders - there is an Einstein's next door to the hospital in Ogden, and there was no line when I bolted in there right before picking up Ari.  Laughing at my borderline sacreligiousness, I truly felt like God was watching out for me when I slipped in to Einstein's moments before a four-foot-tall couple who looked to be in their late nineties, the man with a broken arm, and a 300-pound guy with two black eyes, wearing pajamas and pushing a walker, probably coming from some sort of surgery.  As cute as these people were, my whole day would have been shot if I had gotten in line behind them!

 Victory!  26 bagels procured in under three minutes.  The only possible glitch in my plan would have been for me and the bagels to be stuck at the hospital during the lunch, waiting for the green light to go home.  Mike Scheuller, our trusty ENT, made sure Ari was through in record time, and I even got home in time to avoid contingency plans for picking up Ptolemy from preschool.  Meanwhile, Grandma had whisked Tziporah away so Ruby could prepare the lunch.  Because even with all my good luck, it never would have come together without Ruby, mostly because I decided to make this fun dessert that I had never made before, forgetting that making fun desserts takes time.  It's that debilitating optimism in play again.  Fortunately, Ruby's schedule is fluid, and she loves to make food.  Thanks, Ruby.  And Grandma!

 I got this picture of my dad in front of the fireplace in their Parisian Apartment du Jour while all of this was going on.  Man, I forget sometimes how much I rely on my parents being right next door, Mom always willing to "watch the kids for a sec," and Dad always willing to "just run Ari to cello..."  No wonder they keep having to go to Europe to recuperate!

 I make it sound like throwing together a salad and buying some bagels is a big deal.  It wasn't.  The timing was interesting, but it all came together beautifully, and I reveled in the chatter that filled up our home for the brief time that all these gorgeous girls (and some boys, too!) were there with their bright, happy energy.  When I got back from picking up Ptolemy from dance, they were all gone, and the kitchen was put back neatly in order, dishes rinsed, counter clear.  I am floored by the maturity of these girls.  With just a half-hour for lunch, they tidied up after themselves?  Wow.

So, today is the day of try-outs.  Golda and Ruby have been practicing the dances until well into the night.  Golda is a shoe-in, I think, already being a member of the company.  Ruby, on the other hand, is vying for one of six spots, against 35 other girls.  Cross your fingers, hold your breath, say a prayer, because the sight of my two girls walking in step together, dance bags slung over their shoulders, is a sight I want to see a lot more of next year.