Category Archives: Music

Tuesday So Far

An excellent morning! It’s sunny and there’s absolutely no wind, so it feels much warmer than the thermometer says it is. Sparky and I spent two hours at the Ecomuseum this morning, stomping in puddles and through mud. The original and earnest plan was to do it on foot, but right out of the car he asked to be carried. Uh-hunh; I don’t think so. So I pulled the handy-dandy Emergency Umbrella Stroller out of the trunk, which delighted him because he decided he wanted to push it. This would have been fine if the paths hadn’t been mud and water, and if he knew what a straight line was, and if he didn’t have that I-am-three-and-I-can-do-it-MYSELF streak flaring up that refused to allow me to help steer the thing.

Anyway.

There were a couple of class groups and a handful of families there at the same time, but the compound is big enough that we only ran into them once or twice. We saw an Arctic fox, and a pine marten doing intense laps in his enclosure, and deer, and crows, and the ravens flying around their enclosure (wow). Then we went to see the ducks in the waterfowl pond.

And there it was that disaster struck. See that faded green hat in the post icon? It is now at the bottom of the duck pond. Yes, Sparky leaned over the railing a little too far and suddenly wailed; his hat had fallen off. I grabbed for a shovel and threw myself down on my stomach and tried to hook it but it was just out of reach. Let me tell you, the wails and the tears and the running of the nose turned it into a Titanic-class tragedy. I tried to reach it from the next edge but there was no way. So I soothed him as best I could, but he didn’t want to leave it behind. I suggested going on to see the foxes and the wolves, and checking back later to see if the hat had drifted to shore. “Maybe the ducks will bring it to the edge of the pond,” I said, so he pressed his face against the railing and hollered, “PLEASE DUCKS, BRING MY HAT!” Finally he agreed to continue along, but he wanted to be carried so I managed the stairs up to the next level with him on one hip leaning his tear-stained cheek against my shoulder, and hauling the stroller up with the other hand. Then he wanted to sit in the stroller (aha, finally) and didn’t want to get out to see the animals, but complained that he couldn’t see. And the entire time he was saying, “Where is my hat? Is it in the water? It fell off? We will ask for help when we get back.”

The bears were out for the first time this spring, and we saw all three of them. And we spent about half an hour watching the river otters from both the top level and the window looking into their tank. There were more tears when I finally said that we had to keep going, and after a quarter-hour of resistance he climbed into the stroller on his own and waited for me to catch up and push him along. We took a side trip to check the duck pond but the hat was nowhere in sight; it had sunk, as I had expected when I saw it taking on water as it made its initial progress across the pond. There was no point in asking the staff to pick it up for us. So we agreed that he could wear his Thomas the Tank Engine hat from now on, and we’d keep our eye out for a new cap too. Then we saw the owls, and then we went inside and had our peanut butter sandwich while watching the birds in the solarium.

The car was nice and warm from the sun; I took off both our jackets. He almost fell asleep on the way home, but I kept him up with raucous Muppet songs. We finished lunch while watching the DVD disc of the new They Might Be Giants album Here Come the 123s, and now it is nap time. (This is a big improvement over last Tuesday, the day upon which there was no nap.)

Good day so far, with one bad bit. After the nap, I think we’ll bring out the home-made play dough again and make another army of Totoros. Or maybe the finger paint. [ED. NOTE: It ended up being making cupcakes and watching the TMBG DVD again instead, then playing in the backyard till we decided to take the wagon to the bus stop to meet HRH when he came home from work.]

A selection of photos from the Ecomuseum are up at Flickr. And now, bonus pictures: We have crocus-age!

Thirty-Four Months Old!

It’s been a long winter, but we’re finally free of winter coats and boots and gear, and no one is happier than Liam (unless it’s HRH and I). He’s so much easier to get in and out of the car now, and handles it very nicely all on his own again now that he’s unencumbered, which is a relief for us. Now the next goal is getting the 40lbs+ seat with flat edges, so in and out is even easier all round.

In the wake of the metres of snow, we have found all sorts of things. He has been cheerfully stomping and shovelling the snowbanks in the backyard with HRH to break them up and help them melt. In so doing he also found his hockey sticks and the whiffle ball, and has been batting them enthusiastically around the yard. Every day when we go out we have to check on the progress of the crocuses coming up in the front garden, and he announces with great energy that “Mama, I’m watching the flowers grow!” He hugs the big maple tree that divides our front yard from the neighbour’s, and usually kisses it too. We saw a robin the other day (“Look, Mama, a robin bird!”) and he asked what it was doing. “I think he’s looking for little twigs to build a nest,” I said. “He’s building a nest?” he said, very interested. “To sleep in?” And then we had to go through all sorts of animals and identify their beds and habitats. I love that he asks so many questions.

With the weather so much milder we’ve been outside a lot more, and the wagon is seeing use again, as well as the new trike. Unfortunately we’ve discovered that the new trike is a bit stiff, which may be why it was in the second-hand shop. Oiling it hasn’t made a difference. I think it has to do with the plastic front fork and the metal hub not playing well together. We’ll look for grommets to line the holes in the fork, and put blocks on the pedals; maybe that will help Liam put more power into pedalling to overcome the stiffness. In the meantime he walks it and pushes it around the backyard quite happily. When we went out to play the first weekend the driveway was clear the passel of boys next door were out too. The eldest, an adolescent, is a really excellent on a skateboard, and his little five year old twin brothers have their own tiny boards they can zoom around on too. Well,Liam saw one of these and abandoned the trike to the three year old brother and went right for a loose board. He kept trying to stand on it, so I went over and held his hands and showed him how to push with one foot and balance on the other. Does anyone know how to skateboard, and would be willing to teach him in a couple of years if he’s still this enthralled? HRH’s knees would pop off and walk away in protest, and the only time I’ve been on a board was in a school hallway outside the chem lab in grade ten; my lips are sealed, and I don’t think there’s anyone else left who can tell the tale.

We’ve been trying to teach him knock-knock jokes, because he’ll say “Knock-knock!” to get us to pull aside a curtain or blanket. Last weekend he was in the laundry basket (don’t ask) with a blanket over his head like a little pot pie, and HRH and I were sprawled across the bed. “Knock-knock,” he said to get us to pull the blanket away so he could pop out. “Who’s there?” I said instead. “Liam,” he said carefully after a moment. “It’s me,” he added, in case I needed reminding. “No, no, Liam; when someone says ‘Knock-knock’ you say ‘Who’s there?'” I said, and fed him the line: “Knock-knock!” “It’s Liam!” he said, throwing off the blanket with a grin. So we kept at it, and he kept looking at us as if we were crazy. Finally, when I said “Knock-knock!” he looked at me seriously and said, “It’s Liam, I’m very pleased to meet you,” and took the hand that I was dangling over the edge of the bed and shook it politely. We howled until we cried. He grinned and looked back and forth between us, but he had no idea why it was funny. Not that it mattered; he threw himself on top of us in the bed anyhow and laughed along.

Playtime has become quite complicated. His two main toys are his set of metal cars, and his wooden train set. The cars and train have long conversations among themselves, and go through small crises that they solve. It’s very interesting to listen to him. He actively tells us stories at night now, too, instead of us leading him along. It’s a wonderful feeling to walk up the street with him after a day with the caregiver and ask, “So did you have a good day? What did you do?” and listen to him chatter on about what he did, and to understand it all.

Last week we were watching Kids’ CBC and there was a host interstitial about the letter O. Liam said, “Oh, the letter O!” and dashed out of the room. This is not unusual; he is a very busy boy. What was different about this time was that he came running back in saying, “Here, Mama, the letter O!” and handed me the red magnetic letter O from the fridge. I nearly turned cartwheels, but settled for praising him, giving him high fives, and hugging him fiercely. We regularly hear him count to twenty (the numbers fourteen and sixteen optional). Since then he’s been asking “What’s that’s name? (Translation: What is the name for that object?) What’s at the front of that name? (Translation: What letter does it begin with)?” When I tell him I hand him the magnetic letter if I can, because drawing on a sheet of paper doesn’t satisfy him. He knows how to say certain alphabet sequences when given a letter to start from, but not others without their context.

Ceri and Scott brought us all presents last weekend, and he got a book on knights. He opened it and said, “Thank you! I have something for you, too.” And he reached out and took the (empty) gift bag that was behind him, and handed it to Ceri. It was so terribly sweet, even if all that was in it was tissue paper; it had held HRH’s video game, but Liam hadn’t been in the room to see him open it. It was very touching to see him want to give a present to someone else because they’d given him one. In general he’s very polite, although we’re still working on sitting at the table while the parental units finish their meals (or most of them, anyway). Sharing is consistently getting better and better, as is helping to clean up, now that he more clearly understands the concept of hurting other people’s feelings by his behaviour.

Gryff still sleeps outside his door at night and during naps, and when Liam wakes up some times he lies down on his side of the door and plays with Gryff under it, little fingers and paws darting back and forth. The other day he found Hammy, the old cat toy that had been Gulliver’s special toy. Hammy is the terribly imaginative name we gave to the stuffed hamster with a motor in it; when you pull a string it vibrates. HRH had it on a shelf along with Gully’s old collar. Liam saw it and wanted to hold it, and the moment he discovered the pull string Gryff was there too, grabbing for it. The two of them rolled around on the bed together playing with it, and HRH said that yes, Liam could give it to Gryff to play with. “I think Gully would like that,” he said, watch the two of them laugh and romp with it. Bringing Gryffindor home so Liam could have a cat to play with was one of the best decisions we’ve made for Liam. (I am assuming it’s been a good thing for Gryff too, and judging from the amount of purring that goes on he’s very okay with it all.)

His local grandparents came to stay with him so HRH could attend my last concert, and it was really nice not to have to rush or try to plan out complicated car scheduling. When HRH and I were getting ready to go he looked up at me and said, “Where are you going?” “I’m going to my concert,” I said. “Mama is playing her cello for lots of people tonight.” “Oh, you’re going to your concert? Can I come?” And it felt so good to say, “Next time, yes. This summer you can come watch Mama play her cello in a big, big church. And then we can see fireworks.” On Sunday morning I suggested that we play our cellos and he was all for it. He set himself up very well and started playing his baby cello, and I quietly brought out my music stand. “Why do you have that, Mama?” he said, as he’d never seen me use it before. I explained what it was and what it was used for, and then I started playing ‘Sampo’, the opening title song from the Totoro soundtrack (reading it in treble clef, thank you very much, go me). He looked up right away and said, “Mama, that is Totoro music! You’re playing Totoro on your cello!” It was very gratifying to have him actually recognise what I was playing, and to see him so happy about it. I think I am now officially the coolest mom on the block because I can play Totoro music (thank you, Joe Hisaishi, for making your themes easy). He didn’t even let me get to ‘Kaze no Torimichi’ or ‘Tonari no Totoro’, though; he ran off to bang on the bathroom door and tell his father, who was trying to shower, what I was doing.

I am so thankful to have such a happy and enthusiastic boy. Life is a lot of fun. I’m looking forward to having this book done with for a while, so we can go back to spending more time together. Besides, we only have two months in which to plan the three year old birthday party. I’m thinking that this one’s going to have to be split into two: one for the kids, because they’re all old enough now to do the party thing, and one for the adults at a different time to celebrate the awesome parents he has.

Other Liam posts this month:

a hero shot of Liam
Liam discovers the metronome
Liam’s new tricycle!
– and the 34-month the teaser post

Dee Dee Dee…

Best tyop so far today: you may wish to crate a separate shrine for this purpose. Can’t let those shrines run free, oh no. Keep ’em contained. No inter-shrine contact!

I have ZERO focus today. Work is getting done, though. If all goes well I may nail Chapter Five in the file today, and part of Chapter Six as well. I spent a large part of the morning wrestling with how to sequence Chapter Six. I keep rearranging the sections and so far no order makes more sense than any other. Argh.

I’m listening to a broadcast of Beethoven’s ninth symphony, and although I’ve played it I don’t have much memory of it other than visual and atmospheric impressions. Usually when I’ve played something I remember the musical line really well. This one, not. Odd.

I miss Vanilla Coke. Hmm. I do have a finger of vanilla schnaaps left and Coke in which to mix it…

ETA @ 3:40: Chapter Five is finished! The file stands at page 106 (AKA page 118 in the hard copy). Now for the puzzle that is Chapter Six…

Lunch Break

I just cut an entire six pages because they didn’t fit. I’d feel better about it if I hadn’t spent hours writing them months ago in the first place, and a good forty minutes rewriting them in the cafe on Monday.

I didn’t go to work in the cafe after all this morning. Even the smallest movement is painful, and I’m in a no-people frame of mind. Dissolving into tears in the car after dropping the boy off was a marked sign that editing in a public place wasn’t going to work. So I came home, which was depressing in itself. I’m now halfway through the printout of the manuscript, and on page 40 of the file. The latter is a rather unreliable guide to progress, as it no longer matches the pagination of the printout (which makes for some puzzled flipping when my scribbles on page Z say to ‘move to page X’ and page X of the file is now Z+9).

It’s been a frustrating morning, on top of the already low mood.

Songs and Poems for Solo Cello

But this was in the parcel waiting for me at the post office, one of the two I missed on Monday when I was working in the cafe. And I’m kind of glad the upstairs neighbours aren’t home because I’m listening to it at a rather loud volume. It’s both beautiful and depressing. I can hear every shift Sutter makes and the movements of her bow arm (not because of poor recording or shoddy technique, but because of her phrasing and the stunning acoustics of the church in which it was recorded), and I wish I could play like that.

I’m going to go heat up a piece of last night’s lasagna and then come back and slog some more.

Hello World…

… I am not dead, just busy. (And in a curious amount of pain, for some reason. It’s fine as long as I don’t move.)

The concert was lovely. As I expected I enjoyed myself immensely for the first half and played very well, with the overture standing out as particularly good. As I’d feared, though, I began wilting in the symphony. I aced and loved the first movement but the second movement was faster than usual, which was fine up till the fugue-type bit started by the cellos. As we came up to it I realized that there was no way I could do it at that speed so I just hung on and did what I could. Which wasn’t much, really, and it depressed me despite knowing that it was the speed and not my ability. The mood clung to me and I just couldn’t enjoy the scherzo and trio much, but I was bound and determined to enjoy the fourth movement, and I did, but only because I insisted on it.

Thank you to HRH, Ceri, Scott, Marc M, Marc L, Mel, Amanda, and Val for sharing the evening with us. I think the audience was at about sixty percent capacity, although it really seemed like more when everyone congregated in the hall for cider and cookies at intermission. I can’t even estimate actual numbers.

Now we have two weeks off. This may not be a bad thing, as I suspect the pain at the base of my spine is from sitting in the new chairs three times in four days.

I took my manuscript printout with me when I dropped the boy off at the caregiver’s yesterday, and betook myself to the cafe in which I used to write before we moved. I got myself a decaf latte and a brownie, then sat and worked on editing the manuscript for two hours. It was good to be out, in a silver of sun that slowly moved from my papers to myself, away from the distractions of the internet, my bookshelves, and the chores in the kitchen. I slashed and rewrote Chapter Three and some of Four, then came home and began transferring last week’s edits to the file. Chapter One and Two are mostly done now, with just one or two places I’ve marked to polish or check a fact. I think I’ll be doing the cafe thing again on Wednesday, except I may try a different location because the music was loud and not very conducive to my mood. Trying to listen to my MP3 player above the cafe’s music was worse, though. When I used to go there the staff was friendlier, and they played jazz.

It was so beautiful yesterday that I had the back door open while I was making dinner. Sparky and I were watching blackbirds from the back deck when we had a visit from a rather large plump squirrel. It climbed up the stairs and inched its way on to the deck looking at us expectantly, and I had visions of the thing turning ugly when I informed it that we were not serving. I also hoped that none of the cats were sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, or they’d be outside like a shot. Sparky spent a lot of time between the car and the front door bending over to see the quarter-inch tall first signs of all the bulbs we planted last fall, poking at them and saying with great excitement that he could see the flowers growing. And we saw a robin, which was lovely too.

Spring is good. And it’s not going to take as long for all the snow to melt as we’d expected, because the temperature has radically readjusted and we’re looking at sun all week (Thirteen degrees today and Thursday! Sixteen degrees tomorrow!) with periodic clouds and scattered showers before light rain all weekend. The middle of the back yard is already mud and dead grass. The sun is doing wonders for my outlook.

Sparky and I are home together today and having a lovely time so far.

Concert!

I’m really looking forward to the concert tonight. Not because I think I will be brilliant — I will be passable, making lots of stupid mistakes and not-quite-getting the harder passages I’ve been working on for months — but because I’m looking forward to playing this music. I love the Delibes dance suite, and I’d never have heard the Gounod symphony if it hadn’t been put on this program; they’re both fun to play. And I will see friends tonight, which is always wonderful too, especially these days when we see so little of one another.

And I’m proud of how well I’ve been handling orchestra in the wake of the fibro diagnosis. I’ve been cutting myself a lot more slack about low energy, clumsy fingers and hand movements, and not being able to pull off what I want to be pulling off. I try, and I get some of it; if I don’t, well, I didn’t, and it isn’t the end of the world. It’s more than mildly ironic that in the past when I felt I wasn’t getting it I’d try harder, which would just make things worse. Now I understand why.

Dress rehearsal went well enough. The seating arrangement has been slightly altered in hopes of improving how easily the sections could hear one another. It worked for me; I don’t know about the other sections. Having the winds behind where the violas usually sit meant I could really hear their lines and cues. The celli and first violins have been pushed back and angled more, too. I can see the conductor a lot more clearly as a result. When we were wrapping up the conductor told us it sounds good, and sounds even better from further away. We were all a bit punchy by that point, and it was very amusing to imagine a sign posted to the effect of In order to obtain the most value for your money, please sit as far away from the orchestra as possible.

If you’re just tuning in, or need the reminder:

The Lakeshore Chamber Orchestra presents their Spring 2008 concert tonight, with the theme of French composers and dance music. The programme features:

Overture to The Caliph of Baghdad by Boieldieu
Pavane pour une infante défunte by Ravel
Chanson et aires de danse dans le style ancien from Le roi s’amuse by Delibes
Pavane, op. 50 by Fauré
Symphony no. 1 by Gounod

The concert takes place on Saturday April 5, 2008 at 19h30, and will be presented at Cedar Park United Church located at 204 Lakeview Ave, Pointe-Claire, QC (corner St. John’s Blvd). Admission is $10, children under 18 attend free of charge.

The church is easily reached via public transport by taking the 211 bus west from Lionel-Groulx metro, disembarking at St. John’s blvd, and walking south to Lakeview (the first street south of autoroute 20). By car, take St. John’s Blvd south from either autoroute 40 or 20 and turn right (west) on Lakeview. The church is about three houses along on the south side of the street. There’s a parking lot on the west side. Here’s a map to help you find your way.

Five Things

1. Jteethy has a job! Woo-hoo!

2. Sun! Sun! The snow of yesterday is pretty much gone! (Only a metre or so of the winter stuff left to go now…)

3. A weekend that feels like a weekend so far, and will only get better with a visit from Ceri and Scott this afternoon, a flying visit with the inlaws while we get ready to go out and they start minding the boy, and then the concert tonight.

4. Fresh bread, Dijon mustard, fresh slices of grilled Angus roast beef, and Swiss cheese.

5. A really wonderful night of sleep after a decent dress rehearsal.