Things to Remember

I. I haven't been back, but two of J's friends live in our old apartment in Brighton. Not just in our old apartment complex, but in the exact same apartment that we inhabited. She tells me that there's a picture of us on the fridge, so we can sort of be the genii loci of Clover Park #3.

I should find an excuse to look in on the place some time, because I think I'm already forgetting what it looked like. I remember where the bed was in our bedroom, and how the big window in there looked out into a bunch of trees in someone's fenced-in backyard over the apartment driveway. We had big closets with sliding doors, and I think our desk was in the bedroom as well--this is the sort of thing I'm starting to get fuzzy on.

I wonder what I ought to remember about our current house on Harwick Road. I'm afraid I'll only remember the beautiful hardwood floors, if we ever moved away, just for how sticky and crumby they always were around where the boys ate.

We do have a great master bedroom. It's the biggest room upstairs, and the bed is up against the eastern wall now. I moved it without asking J a few months ago, and she didn't like it, but we haven't ever gotten around to moving it back. The end tables are probably the most striking feature of the room as you're looking at the bed.

J's father made the end tables, and they're incredible. They're so much nicer than any other piece of furniture we own--beautifully crafted, perfectly stained, still pristine looking.

We have an storage ottoman with some sweaters and our swim things at the foot of the bed, and I've been keeping the box fan on it. It's easy for me to fall asleep with my feet at the headboard if I stay up late to read with the fan blasting on me. Last I knew Calvus was still sleeping with a fan blasting on him...I wonder if that's still the case?

It's been cooler the past few nights though, cool enough to want to crawl under the blankets and sleep close to J, but warm enough for her to come to bed with bare legs.

It's always bright downstairs in the morning, or at least if we open the blinds and curtains. (I usually do, while I'm making coffee and getting out a book to read at my desk.) There's a sunbeam that moves across the library floor from 8-9 in the morning, and if the kids are doing okay on their own we can lie in the middle of it with books and coffee mugs while they race around past (and over) us.

II. Alpine Week
It's Alpine Symphony week--a possibly once in a lifetime chance to play Strauss' biggest symphonic work.
Things to remember from this week in the orchestra-
Getting hired almost a year in advance and blocking off the dates
Not finding out until the first rehearsal that I'd be playing first offstage as well as assisting onstage, and sight-reading the part with a few of the other double-duty horn players since not all the extras were hired for the early part of the week.
The commissioned overture that had a bunch of high Cs (in the 2nd trumpet part) since apparently there weren't enough high notes in Alpine..
The first 8 bars and last 8 bars played in complete darkness in the hall to coordinate with the projected images overhead.
Sitting in front of the trombone section during The Summit