Short and Quiuck

The Maestro is at his lesson right now.  His lesson schedule has been a little more tricky the past month or so.   Pink and her family went on vacation for a couple of weeks, and when they got back they announced that they were moving west for a new job.  This is the first week they are permanently gone, but last week there were all sorts of packing and cleaning activities going on.

 

Hildr has been by and large coming to visit me at work, but I get tired of keeping her safe in a chemistry lab and there are only so many times I want to walk her up and down the stairs.   Last time we went to the Library.  This week Riley was having clock management problems and Hildr had recently gone down for a nap when it was time to leave for the lesson.   So, I caught the bus home, intending to work on the computer while she napped.  She changed her mind about the nap, so I am writing this off and on while she plays in her silky blanket and jumps onto a beanbag "pool" and yells "Splash!"

 

This week certainly hasn't been an ideal cello week.  I only know of one cello practice that The Maestro had since his last lesson.   Granted, they don't always tell me about their cello practices, but Riley has spent a lot of time this week primping our house and I don't imagine a lot of cello practices went on.   Last night about 10:00, a For Sale sign went up in our front yard.  Now we can mostly stop worrying about getting last minute things done and start worrying about being logged onto the internet when someone might call, and keeping everything neat in case someone wants to stop in for a look.   We'll see how much room cello gets this week.

 

Last week, The Maestro came home from his lesson in a pretty good mood.  It seems like the approach of having Hildegard play a request as a reward when The Maestro demonstrates some technique is still working.   Last week he came home all excited about learning the "Telly-and-Terra" as one of his rewards.

 

On another musical note, this week The Maestro renewed his interest in conducting.  Saturday and Sunday both he got dressed up in his conducting uniform – a black suit jacket with vest and black dress pants.   He then set himself up on a small folding chair to conduct whatever he happens to be listening to.  This was nice for me on Sunday because he had wanted to conduct in the morning, and I didn't have to get him dressed for church because he could wear his conductor's outfit.   The jacket is getting a little small but if he doesn't care, I don't care.

 

This week I had a couple of ideas for Christmas presents.  He doesn't have a music stand and I think he would dearly love one.   Also, a real conductor's baton shouldn't be too expensive.  He would like that better than conducting with a drum stick or some other stick that he can find.

 

Update:

Somehow we dropped an hour from our day.  Riley and The Maestro got back from his lesson about an hour before the time I usually get home from work.   I had started dinner, and people were hungry, so we ate.  As dinner ended it became apparent that dinner should be followed by baths and bed for everyone, just like a normal night.   The Maestro was in bed by six o'clock and none too soon.  I'm not sure what happened, but he was seriously frayed.  

 

When he got home I asked him how his lesson went, and he told me it was "Quick and short."  Apparently he also learned about tunnel fingers, so you can finger on the D string without mashing the A string also, but he wasn't so interested in showing me how that works.

Punkin' Circumstance

It's been a while since the Maestro had a lesson.  Two weeks ago, he didn't have a lesson because Riley and Hildr took the car into the City to pick up Riley's sister Smiley, and her two girls at the airport.   The Maestro and I were homebound, except for the short bike ride we took down to the creek.  The Maestro practiced crawling across the log that hung over the creek.   I mucked about with a stick trying to get leaves and sticks to make a damn.  We had good fun doing the things that Riley wouldn't let us do if she was home.   So, we had no lesson.

 

Smiley and her family were here for almost a week, and the girls had lots of fun playing with the Maestro and Hildr.   Everyone did really well, and handled the change in routine admirably.  They went home the morning of the next week's lesson day, and the Maestro has spent the next four days recovering from having other kids at our house.   No one was surprised when the afternoon they left the Maestro was too tired to concentrate at a lesson.  No one has told me how the lesson didn't happen; it just didn't.

 

Late this past week, the Maestro started composing symphonies.  I think it was Thursday that I got home and he was filling a paper with quarter notes, all stem up, along a one bar staff.   In spite of there only being one bar on the staff, the notes did go up and down, and when Hildegard came over for dinner, he sang to her how his first two symphonies went, complete with crazy composer hand waving.   The first one was relatively low, with lots of staccato and cymbal crashes.  The second one was higher, with more legato.   Towards the end, it started to sound a lot like the Overture to the opera Carmen, by Bizet.  Since then, he has decided that his first symphony is actually "Punkin' Circumstance", which some of you might think is by Elgar.   It isn't.  It was composed by The Maestro in my kitchen this past Thursday.  His third symphony is quite reminiscent of that Grieg piece that ends up in all the cartoons.

 

The interesting thing about all of this, aside from his renewed interest in conducting along to a CD of Punkin' Circumstance, is his willingness to sing.   You may remember several months back the concern we had that he might never sing to Hildegard.  It was a monumental day when he first got out a couple of Tuck-a's in her office on campus.   This week he didn't need any coaxing to sing for what seemed like five minutes the music he had composed.  Part of this is his increased comfort with Hildegard; I'm sure he wouldn't be quite so forthcoming with most other people.   I think though, that he has grown considerably in his confidence to perform. 

 

Last Sunday, Smiley's husband, Uncle 'Fredo, arrived.  He had had to work, so he came on a later flight.   Through a variety of circumstances, he and the Maestro and I ended up visiting, just us three.  The Maestro wasn't comfortable yet talking to Uncle 'Fredo and insisted on whispering in my ear everything that he wanted me to tell 'Fredo on his behalf.   In spite of his unease, the Maestro did decide that he wanted to give a concert for his uncle.  He told us all the parts of the cello, and demonstrated how to adjust the bow hair tension.   Then he sat and played two or three songs that he has put together.  Performing for a new audience has to some extent become easier for him than meeting new people.

 

We should be able to get a good lesson in this week, as far as I can see.  The Maestro is excited to go on a field trip to the woods tomorrow, and he has no school on Tuesday, so he should be in a good state of mind Wednesday.