Summer is firmly upon us, and I am enjoying all of my unexpected down time. HAAAA. You know, in-between the driving lessons, ferrying children to and fro, working on a few different projects for the school (damn my need to be “helpful” and “participatory”), gardening, sort of working, various visits and engagements, and trying to keep everyone alive (which turns out to be harder than I think it’s going to be, all the time).
We had houseguests who brought their two dogs, and do it was DOGAPALOOZA here for a couple of days, and after they left, Duncan seemed REALLY tired, which, fine, I guess having two extra dogs all up in your face is stressful. But then he started refusing to get up… or eat… and he got up one afternoon and peed all over the carpet and lay back down right next to it. Plus he was blowing little snot bubbles out of his adorable little smushed-up nose and there was a lot of sneezing and some coughing. (Pro tip: Don’t Google “canine influenza.”) Anyway. The vet put him on some antibiotics and he’s perkier, now, thank goodness.
Monkey is very busy 1) eating everything that is not nailed down and 2) planning out various D&D campaigns and talking to his friends about said campaigns and showing up in my office to say things like “And each oracle gives you a one and a half modifier to your level for the next strike!” (I try to nod and look impressed.) Chickadee is very busy 1) working, 2) driving, 3) doing music stuff like joining a jazz band so that she can learn yet another instrument because apparently jazz flute is not so much a thing, 4) studying for the ACT, 5) binge-watching Netflix, and 6) insisting she is too busy to unload the dishwasher. I choose to believe this is all fine and good.
Because there’s not enough other stuff going on, I’ve finally ordered some paint for my office. You know, because I picked out that paint two years ago and I am nothing if not punctual. Otto said he’d redo the floor for me, too, if I picked out some laminate, so maybe that’ll happen, too. Then my office will be BEAUTIFUL and I will maybe have to, you know, work more.
While I try to relocate two overloaded bookcases (ZOMG), you can head over to Alpha Mom to read about how teenagers differ from toddlers. Spoiler: Notsomuch.
Jazz (yazz) flute is not a thing? Ron Burgundy has disappointed me.
Jazz flute is totally a thing. It’s not a *good* thing, in my opinion, but it’s definitely a thing. ;-) I’m a recovering flute player, so I can totally say that!
1. Jazz flute is so a thing, my daughter had a flute in her jazz band this year. That said:
2. Switching from either clarinet or flute to saxophone is a fairly easy thing to do; an hour or so with the new instrument and you’ve got it. Easy peasy. I switched for Jazz band in HS, my daughter switched for marching band (the pitiful little marching band started this past season with 15! kids, and ended with 20, so the director asked all woodwinds to switch to sax for bigger sound) and found out she liked it so much she wanted to stay with it for jazz band, and intends to play clarinet for symphonic and sax for jazz and marching next year. In fact at some point most professional woodwind players learn all the other woodwinds with the exception of double reed instruments because they’re weird (no offense to any double reed instrument players, they’re wonderful, just really hard to play!) and pit orchestras have multiple players in one book, and if you can read the whole book and play all the instruments in it, that’s worth good cash. So go Chickie! It will serve her well even if she’s not interested in a music career, because just like sports, colleges pay for musicians in the form of scholarships.
Well yes, jazz flute IS a thing, just not in this band. She’s playing sax. (Because flute, piccolo, oboe, piano, and marimba was not enough instruments….) I don’t question. She’s happy.
She’d have fun playing (music) with my cousin’s kids! They all play a zillion instruments, too.
After I happily added tenor sax to my flute, I not only joined jazz band, but also a polka band. Just another perk of growing up in rural Minnesota.