J hurt her foot playing Ultimate Frisbee at camp again this year, and that isn't anything out of the ordinary. This time it was her right foot, though, so that was a little unusual. Just as Frodo was never quite whole again in Middle Earth after having been pierced by an immortal blade atop Amon Sul, her left ankle will never be whole and innocent again. But, to her credit, she plays on it every year.
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| Out of position for end zone defense |
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| I am not particularly tall |
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| Star Wars shirts are cool at music camp |
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| Take that, short kids |
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| Both musicians miss the jump. Fittingly, in front of the library. |
The kids haven't done a great job of staying healthy either. Owen has a nasty cold, probably the result of his poor sleep habits, his insistence of touching/licking all of the buttons on the elevator, and his propensity to eat discarded food whenever he finds a piece of it on the cafeteria floor. Aside from a raspy voice and a runny nose, though, he isn't so bad.
It was James that gave us a real scare the other day. He was looking for a toy train in the garage (of course) and climbed up to look in the stroller (of course) while I was taking care of a sneezing and crying Owen indoors. He slipped off the stroller and gave himself a nasty gash on the side of the head that bled all over the place, including down the front of his face and shirt to his complete horror and shock. It couldn't be band-aided because of all of his hair, so we ended up cleaning him off the best we could and then depositing him in the kiddie pool with a cold drink to try to keep him cool and slowed-down for the afternoon.
I'm not sure we're all going to survive another week of camp.
II. George and Steven
For the first time in his life, James is voluntarily leaving George and Steven behind. J says she could tell something was different as soon as we arrived at camp. James had been talking about how excited he was for Csehy all month, and he strode about campus with an air of a veteran, someone who knew what they were doing and what their role was. He was helpful unpacking the car, he held doors, and he greeted strangers confidently. And when it was time to go to dinner, he put on his lanyard (which had his very own name on it) and walked out of our apartment. Without George and Steven.
Apparently being at camp makes him a man. He still has been sleeping with them at night, but he hasn't brought them outside the apartment once. He hasn't even talked about them outside the apartment. (Though once he did receive a "phone call" from George--holding his hand up to his ear as we walked to the car after lunch--informing him that he needed to sleep during naptime and not read books.)
I wonder if it's pressure from the other kids. There are probably a dozen or so other faculty kids between the ages of 1-6 who are riding around on scooters, begging for ice cream, and generally being interesting. There's a little girl who chats his ear off at every meal, and three brothers who constantly ram up and down the hallway with their toy trucks. Sometimes James just lies on the floor next to the door listening to them when we're in the apartment. When asked if he wants to step out the door to join them, he's declined every time so far. He's getting braver, but not quite that brave yet.
III. Teaching Date
J and I taught a class together for the first time since Intro to Kayaking back when we worked at Kenbrook. We were tasked with minor key signatures last week, though we ended up renaming the class "Finding La." It was an oddly enjoyable experience, working with a bunch of kids who weren't our own to take the next step in the labyrinth of music theory knowledge. The kids were sharp, and even found us out when we gave them misinformation. (You need 12 spots, not 13, to make a blank circle of 5ths diagram.) Somehow I ended up being the one that played the piano for the musical examples in the first two classes, but J was back at the keyboard when we talked through all of the various key centers in Vivaldi's Gloria in the final class. We don't have to teach theory this week, and though I'll be glad for the extra hour in the evening, I might actually miss it a little.
IV. 25
Happy Birthday to my dear sister-in-law Melissa, still the newest Smith, at whose special request this blog is being written at 10:30 on a Sunday evening. I can't promise many more blogs as camp continues for the next week, but I'll do my best in August. Hope you are having a delightful birthday!
V. Watership Down
The more I read Watership Down, the more I consider it one of my favorite books. I think I would have put it on a top 20 list before this year. It may now be on the top 10. It is SUCH a good story, and I've been freshly inspired this week to find out what words like "trefoil" and "combe" mean. It turns out that the weed growing in the cracks of my driveway (which I really ought to have sealed) is called purslane. I don't know if either of the rabbits that I periodically see in my yard would enjoy it. To me they are certainly Hazel and Fiver.
VI. Five Little Boys and One Little Girl
This morning I joined Pax and Calvus in Perry with their families for the Sunday service. It was another little taste of what life must have been like for our parents--five little boys and one little girl running about. (To be honest, though, Wesley did hardly any running.) The kids did well in the service, and then once we'd taken them back over to 7 Church Street it was a matter of waiting them out as they slowly ran out of the will to stay awake. Not that they were ever all napping or all awake at the same time, of course...
VII. J's Story
I need to let J write her own story about the student that she had last week. (And this week.) Of two things, though, I am sure. To have any sort of career in music one must be able to absorb perceived failures and convert them into progress. Second, you have to be able to appreciate the good things that come to your colleagues. Without these, you'll be in a very bad way, indeed.
Best birthday blog ever! Thanks big brother!
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