Another Musician in the Family

 One of the by-products of growing up in the home of a music teacher is that one does not have a choice in whether or not one will learn an instrument of some sort.  In Ella's case, she was completely and utterly . . .

. . . . thrilled.  I could teach her myself, of course, but instead I decided to give one of my students the opportunity (and extra practice) to learn how to teach.  Mr. Denver is doing a wonderful job, and Ella is loving her lessons.

Now if only I could get all my kids to practice with such enthusiasm!

Another Musician in the Family

 One of the by-products of growing up in the home of a music teacher is that one does not have a choice in whether or not one will learn an instrument of some sort.  In Ella's case, she was completely and utterly . . .

. . . . thrilled.  I could teach her myself, of course, but instead I decided to give one of my students the opportunity (and extra practice) to learn how to teach.  Mr. Denver is doing a wonderful job, and Ella is loving her lessons.

Now if only I could get all my kids to practice with such enthusiasm!

Spamalot

Handyman and I went on a date to see the musical "Spamalot", which is a musical (obviously) version of Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

We had never before been to the theater where it was held, and both of us were very impressed with the elaborate decor.

We had nosebleed seats so we had an excellent view of the ceiling.

The musical was fantastic, probably the funniest thing I've ever seen.  Even the playbill was entertaining!

 

Here is a video clip of the scene/song "I am Not Dead Yet".  Of course, if you haven't seen the movie this may not make much sense, but check it out anyway!  (Facebook/email viewers will need to click here to see the link on my blog, and you might want to mute the music player on the right sidebar.) 

And here's one more . . .

Another Violinist in the House

I know I usually natter on about knitting on my blog, but in order to fund my mad skills well-under-control knitting habit I teach voice, violin, or piano music lessons to about 18 or 20 students.

(I'm not sure of the exact number of students because if I knew for sure I'm certain to panic from the strain and mentally implode.  This would have a negative affect on my ability to knit.)

Miss Boo is 5, so I started her on piano almost a year ago, and just recently began teaching her the violin.

She has the teeniest little instrument that looks like a toy (it's a 1/16 size, which measures about 15 inches long from scroll to chin rest.)

 

 She sounds appalling, but I don't tell her that.  I'm the teacher, so I have to be loving and supportive.  I'm also her parent, and I often wish that I could pay someone else to listen to her.

All beginning violinists (no matter the age) sound like they're trying to stuff a cat into a coke bottle with chopsticks, so this isn't any indication of future progress.

 

I am just very careful never to schedule two beginner violinists in a row.  My nerves can only handle so much auditory torture.

Just in Time for Easter

Our neighbors gave us their two baby bunnies which they didn't want anymore, and whom we have renamed Paganini and Clara.

Paganini is the black bunny and is named for the famous violinist/composer Nicolo Paganini who supposedly made a pact with the Devil to gain his extraordinary virtuosity.
Clara is named after Clara Schumann, one of my favorite female composers.
(Pets of a music teacher have the ill fate to be named after musical themes. It's an occupational hazard.)

My Little Ballerina

Miss Boo is four years old now, and Handyman and I decided that she could start taking a ballet class with some of her little friends.
The classes are held at the local art museum, and the teacher is very good, very young, and most importantly, very patient.
It's so cute to see her with her little friends, all prancing and awkward-looking, yet knowing that in their minds they see graceful swans and lovely ballgowns.

My favorite part is after they've finished prancing to the other end of the room. The teacher then announces, "Okay, let's try this again!", and a mob of (formerly elegant) pink ballerinas stampede toward the far wall.
Ah yes, good times!

(Before you watch the video, you might wish to pause the music player on the right sidebar. Facebook/email readers need to click here in order to view the video).

I haven't changed my playlist in awhile, so in honor of the delicious 50 degree weather we've been having lately, I've decided to play lots of songs that give an homage to spring.

(Don't worry, I won't inflict any more opera on you. For now.)

Facebook readers should click here to see the actual blog.

Ooo La La!

Yeah, yeah, I know the title's in French and the song is in German and it's sung by a Russian. What can I say? I'm all about the international thing!

Anyway, if you've ever had to suffer through my playlist on my blog, you'll quickly learn that I like opera. Anna Netrebko, however, is not an opera singer such as you probably imagine.

(When I'm doing housework this is what I imagine myself to look like.)

UPDATE: Whoops! Wrong video inserted! I've got it fixed now.

(You might wish to pause the music player on the right sidebar before playing the video clip. Also, if you're accessing this post through Facebook, you'll need to visit my actual blog site here to see the clip.)

I know I talk a lot about knitting here at Yarn Over, but I think I've occasionally mentioned that I teach private voice, violin and piano music lessons in the afternoons.

Since the weather has finally taken a turn for the worse, my piano's mood has also spiraled into a whirling miasma of depression and gotten herself horribly out of tune.

(Yes, my piano is feminine. One must see her legs to know this. Trust me, a male piano would never display legs like that. Plus, she's got a killer sassy atitude and routinely changes her internal workings just to exasperate me. But I digress . . .)

So, my piano tuner comes and opens up my Grand Dame and finds:
Several Disney Princess pencils between the action and the keys.

(Let me assure you that Disney Princess pencils do not usually come with Chickering Grand Pianos.)

Investigations pending, but I have my suspicions.

Dancing with Dolly

My kids just LOVE listening to Dolly Parton's music, especially her more upbeat songs. When I need to wear them out, I just put her music on and the kids start wiggling and hopping around the room in a toddler's expression of "dance".
Their ultimate favorite song is "Jolene", a song about a woman begging a hussy named "Jolene" to leave her husband alone. First of all, I cannot relate to this woman (not Jolene, the other woman), because the desperation in her voice is not in my character. If Handyman ever "talked about Jolene in his sleep" the man would never wake again and they'd find bits of him all over the state.

Then I'd head out for Jolene's place with a CD player, rope, and my three kids in tow. I'd follow Guantanamo Bay procedures and make her listen to Barney the Purple Dinosaur for 24 hours non-stop. (Don't believe me? Read the link. They really did it. It just goes to show our government will stop at nothing.) By then she'd be screaming for mercy.

I should know, as I myself have been put under this same torture by my two darling oldest children.

As my Mum once said, "I used to be a nice person before I had kids". I never new what limits I could sink to!

The Sound of Silence

A week or two ago (before I completely lost all track of reality and time when my family came to visit) we had our pastor and his family over for dinner. Their kids are really sweet, and close to our kids in age, so that was a nice interesting mix of entertainment and stress.

The two older kids liked holding Baby Gabe. Elise, the eldest, is really good with younger kids. I wonder if I could get her two adopt two or three of mine . . . ?

Oh, wait, she's too young.

Here's Ben holding Baby Gabe, too. He's on the right track, since a guy who can look comfortable holding a baby is a chick-magnate. He'll be one to watch out for in highschool!

Not only are the kids fun, the parents are amazing.
Saints.

Kari should be put on the penny right next to Abe Lincoln.

Why? Because, for no sensible reason I can fathom, she forced me to let her have my kids for an entire day. A whole day.

Look. No kids.

None here, either.

Or here. Ignore the mess. And the dragon on the counter. Dragons regularly come to my house to eat and make light conversation. And stop staring at the dirt on my floor. I put it there on purpose so that you wouldn't think I'm trying to out-do Martha Stewart.

After the children left for their fun day with Ms. Kari, I stared around my quiet house in a state of mild shock.

Have you ever heard the silence that comes right before a tornado? I felt a bit like that. My ears were ringing.

And then I got to work sewing. Want to see what I sewed?

Ha! You're going to have to wait, because I just realized that I have to leave for a wedding soon, and my teeth are unbrushed and I haven't taken a shower and I don't want to scare the bride and groom out of their wits with my hag-like appearance. That'd be an unlucky thing on their wedding day, I think.

Also, I'm playing the violin for their wedding, and I can't stand the idea of being on the platform in full view of everyone without a full armor of makeup, perfume, and clean armpits.

I'm a Suh-vi-vah . . .

. . . and you know how the rest of the song goes, I expect. Nope, I don't look like Beyonce and the rest of the gals in that music video, but I certainly felt like attempting it after the recital was done. Thankfully my pregnant bulk got in the way just in time to save my dignity and self-respect (no snide comments about my dignity or self-respect, okay? Hee hee.)

Done, and no major disasters! Woo-hoo!

I think this wasn't the best recital I've ever given, but it wasn't really anyone's fault for that, including mine (thank goodness!). Because of all the snow we've gotten, my poor students have had to prepare for a recital with about 3-4 lessons fewer than they usually have, and I think they came through marvelously.

(Oh, if the music is interfering with the videos, just scroll to the bottom of the blog and pause the music player at the bottom).

The biggest disappointment for me was a certain student who didn't show up to the recital, and who has still not contacted me as to why she didn't come. The worst part, is that she was supposed to sing "What is this Feeling" (from the musical Wicked) with another student and had a Lord of the Rings song with three other violin students. I felt really badly for the other students, as they had gone to great lengths to practice and show up early in order to be ready for their songs. *Sigh*. Oh well. I suppose the Lord is paying me back for the torture I inflicted on all of my own teachers . . . (hee hee, I was a really awful student!)

Handyman was such a big help moving things and being errand boy for me, and he was also my kind videographer for the recital, too. Unfortunately, I forgot to put an extra tape in our video camera, so the last part of the recital he had to capture on my little Sony photo camera. Still, I think my little "itty-bitty" did a pretty good job! The added advantage, is that if you hear any wrong notes, I can blame it on the poor audio quality of the camera.



I couldn't find a maternity dress that I liked (at least for a price that I'd be willing to spend), so I decided to just sew one, and I'm SO glad I did. I already had the fabric in my fabric stash (yeessss, I have another stash in the attic, this one of fabric . . .), so other than purchasing the pattern and notions, it was a cheap dress to make. I'm a fair seamstress at best (I have a tendency to do things in a rather slipshod manner), but I think this dress came out better than I could have hoped. It fit great, was comfortable, and (surprise, surprise!) I could wear my shawl with it! Why, that's so nice of you to notice my shawl . . .!

The Day of Reckoning

Well, today is my student's Spring Recital, and it's set for 1:00 this afternoon. I like to arrive at the building early to make sure the microphone is working (or not, in which case I scream and cry like a lunatic), move the piano (hmm, must remember to ask some non-pregnant person to do that . . .), set up the tables for refreshments (double-check on the non-pregnant person), mix the lemonade, set up the signs, and generally sit and panic until people start arriving.

To heighten my sense of hysteria before the Big Event, I always make myself play/sing/whatever too, as I figure it's only fair. Since my students have to go through the agony, I can't very well miss on the camaraderie of shared mass panic. (Think of how many lasting relationships were formed during World War II).

Hopefully I will survive today, in which case I will spend tomorrow looking at the world with a renewed sense of awe and wonder. If you don't hear from me in a few days, I've decided to bury myself in the basement underneath all the canned goods. No one will ever find me there, as it will be at least 30 years before my children start having any interest in vegetables.

Piano Tunings and Tweakings

A few weeks ago I had my piano tuned again for its regularly scheduled check-up, and my lovely darlin' got a weight change. Hee hee, just in time for the holidays!

My piano, which my dear Handyman and my sweet bro. Joshy refinished for me, is a 1926 Chickering Grand. If there were ever a fire in my house, I think the piano would be the first thing I'd grab (after the kids, of course.) Never mind the fact that I couldn't actually get the piano out of the house, I figure that if I chain myself to it, the firemen would have to rescue my piano just to save me, too.

Anyway, where was I . . . . oh yes, the weights. I have the BEST piano tuner, and he put some weights on my keys, so now the keys have the most lovely dig to them. Ahhhhhhh, it's rather like the satisfaction one gets from kneading bread, except it's a luxurious ivory-induced ohm of happiness. Shall we all repeat together?

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Lynn's Visit

This past weekend, my sister Lynn came up for a sort-of surprise visit. She wasn't able to stay too long, but we were able to pack in lots of fun while she was here.

I picked her up at the airport on Saturday morning, and we had a funny time getting turned around in Chicago (well, actually, I got turned around. I'm famous for my "sense" of direction!). We had a little bit of time to kill, so we first visited a nice yarn store (didn't buy anything, woo-hoo for self-control and no money!), where Lynn was introduced to the oooo's and ahhhh's of luxurious fibers. (I think I *might* have given her the ambition to start knitting. We'll keep our knitting needles crossed . . .).

By then, we were both starving, so Lynn treated me to a wonderful restaurant called Pettorino's (or something like that). It was definitely "high-society" stuff, and I felt so pampered. I was such a relaxing change not to have to cut up someone's food into tiny bites, or to move everything on the table out of little arm's reach.

I got the most delicious tasting chicken with lemon sauce and capers. It's not something that I'd usually cook, so it was a lot of fun trying something new. (By the way, that's water in the glass. I behaved myself, although Lynn did not, hee hee!).

After our lunch, we went to see the Broadway Musical Wicked at the beautiful Ford Theater. I was really fascinated by the history of the place, and the oriental architechture was so exotic feeling!

We got the BEST seats, right on the main floor, in aisle L. It was so perfect, because we were close enough to clearly see the actor's facial expressions, but far enough back to have a clear view of the entire stage.

I can't rave enough about how much I enjoyed this play. It was sad, heart-warming, and hilariously funny. Glinda was probably my favorite character, because she was just such a hoot! I can't believe it, but I think I liked the Chicago Glinda (Erin Mackey) better than the original performer (Kirsten Chenoweth)! I couldn't find a video of Mackey singing, but here's a fairly good video of Chenoweth as Glinda (this is after Glinda, the good witch, and Elphie, the bad witch, become friends.)



What a fantastic day in Chicago!

And, to top it all off, I felt especially chic and stylish due to my beautiful new leather handbag from Lynn. Lynn made me promise not to hang my keys on the outside, a very tacky thing, I was told (I immediately starting humming "Popular" to her . . . ).

When we got home, Lynn unpacked her bag of goodies for the kids. I can't believe how many cute outfits and shoes she spoiled the kids with!

Breanna, being a typical girl, had to try everything on at once. Peter was more like, "uh, where's the cars?"

On Sunday we walked to the playground nearby, and the kids had fun playing with their "Auntie Nynn".

Breanna, who simply LOVES the swings, was quite comfortable and content for once. I think she could have fallen asleep there!

Peter had to show off his prowess on the slides,

as well as the swings.

It was very sad saying goodbye to Lynn on Monday afternoon, but I hope she comes back to visit soon!