Daily Archives: July 5, 2010

Catching Up: Concert Recap Plus Brief Weekend Roundup

There was a national holiday, and a concert, and house stuff, and a barbecue with good friends, and the boys on holiday from school and work, and it was hot.

Well, yes, there are details, but essentially that was it.

The Canada Day concert was good, I think. I am personally not happy with my performance, but neither am I upset. I’m just neutral, because I don’t have the energy to be happy or mad. (This is a theme that has carried through the last week or so, and if I had the energy I might be interested or concerned but, well, I don’t, so.) I am very aware that my not-as-good-as-it-could-have-been performance is directly related to the exhaustion and fibro, and I’m… well, not perfectly okay with that, but I accept it. My bowings were all over the place, which was disappointing because I am very proud of my bowing work and to have it all scuttled in performance is disheartening. Our conductor’s wife is a cellist and she spoke to us after the concert about how to improve our sound, which was both encouraging and tiring. I’ve done so much work already on my sound and bow arm in the past almost-two years. I had a scattering of friends attend the concert (thank you, MLG, Marc M, Lu, Phil, and Amanda!), which was lovely, although we were missing quite a few of our regulars. About half my teacher’s students came to see us, too, which was great, and a new friend or two as well.

The insane housing market led us to make an offer on July 1 with which we were ultimately uncomfortable, so we refused the counteroffer. Rumours that we bought a house are therefore unfounded. I am both okay and not okay with this. I am very, very awearied by this househunt, and of this crazy-stressful market that has houses selling three days after they go on sale. I am tired of feeling like we have to offer on a house while we are standing in it to ensure that we have a chance. And while I know we made the correct decision, I can’t help but feel that I turned down a perfectly serviceable house. (Despite the fact that it was missing a third bedroom and the boy’s bedroom would have held his bed and dresser and that’s about it. And the fact that it was further away than we wanted to be. The house wasn’t spectacular enough to balance the distance issue.) Our agent is fabulous and reassured us that if we felt at all iffy we were doing the right thing by continuing to look. But thirty houses and four offers in, I am pretty depressed.

I missed the chamber orchestra end-of-season party because we attended a lovely barbecue with Rob and Kristie and half their wedding party (the other half had attended an earlier barbecue). It was wonderful to have some of my questions and concerns addressed and put to rest, and I am really looking forward to performing this ceremony. It was fun to be with people I hadn’t seen in a long time, and others I don’t see often enough, and to see the number of kids running around with one another. That night the boy had a fever teetering on the edge of do-we-take-him-to-the-hospital-or-not, but I kept an eye on it, and he was pretty much back to normal the next morning, if a little clingy.

Saturday HRH went out to do some plastering, so the boy and I hung out together. He now has his first electric toothbrush, as he saw mine and for the first time coveted it instead of being nervous. There has been a lot of enthusiastic brushing of teeth since we brought it home. He also napped for two hours, so I suspect that his body was still fighting whatever triggered the fever. We picked up a few groceries, and for that night’s dessert I made peanut butter sauce for ice cream, and built most excellent sundaes with vanilla ice cream, dark chocolate and the peanut butter sauces, real whipped cream, and chocolate sprinkles. They were so good that I called the upstairs neighbours down to feed them some, too, while the boy had an evening splash in his tiny pool.

Sunday my in-laws had an early birthday dinner for me, at which I embarrassingly fell asleep before supper and couldn’t eat a piece of my own cake. I’m really, really tired, okay?

The freelance work I’m currently doing is labour-intensive and focus-intensive, both not ideal for my fibro-fogged state, and not overly fabulous pay, so I’ve been keeping my eyes open for something else. t! sent me a link to an online freelance thing, asking if I’d heard of them, and I saw that they hire copyeditors. Aha! thought I. I like to copyedit. Straight copyediting is faster and easier than reviewing a manuscript for flaws and weaknesses and telling someone else how to edit it. So I retooled a resume (which had to be done anyhow, as it’s three years out of date) and went through the whole online application process, only to have it tell me at the end that they were only looking for writers from my region, which made me quite cranky. Still, it led me to wonder why I’d never contacted my current freelance place to ask about a test for editing, so I did that. No answer yet, as I enquired on a holiday weekend.

And great; the doctor’s office just called to cancel the boy’s appointment, because the doctor has had a death in the family and has gone home for a week. So the boy is at home with me and we have the car for no reason, HRH having taken the bus to work. Although it means we missed the home-based daycare strike thing this morning. Our daycare isn’t striking, and they were anticipating physical harassment from union people who had called with thinly-veiled threats, and all the parents had been warned that they would encounter difficulty dropping their kids off as a result. The boy’s best friend there happens to be the daughter of a regional police supervisor, so HRH and I fervently hope that he showed up in his marked car and in full uniform to drop her off and casually hung around with a cup of coffee or something. Because physically preventing parents and kids from walking into their daycare? Not cool. Kids shouldn’t have to deal with stuff like that in association with a place they trust, and that’s why our daycare refused to join the strike action in the first place.

The boy has been pretty good so far this morning about leaving me to work in my office. There have been interruptions, but not as bad as usual. I think we managed to impress upon him the importance of me working. The cancellation had him thinking we were both free to play, but I think I’ve cleared that up now.

Back into the fray.