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Mar
8
You put it in the hole, right?
But what’s the club for?
Mar
7
Julia participated in her second Ribbon Festival on Saturday.
(And guess what?!?!?! THIS WOMAN was there! Her daughter played Lightly Row! We didn’t speak! It was awkward! For me! Because I don’t think she even saw me! Unless she did but pretended not to or something!)
Julia wore a pretty pink dress and played Cuckoo.
She earned a yellow ribbon. For some reason we spent most of the year thinking it was going to be purple but whatever. On the way home, Julia held her ribbon and said to it, “I love you and I’ll tell you why. First of all, you’re yellow…” Purple schmurple. Yellow suits her fine.
The judge had this to say about her performance:
What a beautiful performance! You played so confidently with a lovely smooth touch on the keys. I especially liked your very careful hand position - you obviously have listened to your teacher very well.
You played every note perfectly and kept a steady beat. I hope you will always love the piano and that you will continue to practice and learn. Thank you for playing today. I really enjoyed hearing you!!
Yeah. There are TWO exclamation points at the end.
The whole thing made me cry. I’d blame pregnancy hormones, but the truth is, I’m like one of those parents on American Idol who closes their eyes when their kid performs and cries over how proud they are. On the inside (because outwardly, I roll my eyes at those crazy parents). Except on this occasion where I really cried. Let’s just call it pregnancy hormones!
Lucy wore a NOT PINK dress to The Ribbon Festival.
And she was sufficiently proud of her sister.
Oh, and one more. Because I’m just a little bit proud of my girls.
Feb
24
Picasso Is Home
by Leslie
We picked her up Monday night. And we’ve been doing a lot of this.
And this.
(Please ignore my bedhead. Showering isn’t a priority when you get your should-be-dead cat back.)
And it’s doing some good, I think, because she’s now drinking on her own and eating with help. This morning, she rolled on her back to let Dave rub her tummy. Later, she played with Lucy and explored the house a bit, despite her coordination and balance issues.
She’s timid and tired, but she’s still Picasso. I am so grateful.
Feb
21
A Picasso Update
by Leslie
Picasso didn’t come home today, so I went to see her. She’s in a critical care hospital, which meant I had to wait more than an hour to see her for about five minutes. But it was worth it.
I think she looks pretty good, all things considered.
She has a broken jaw, which is what she needs surgery to fix. Her vitals are stable and she is now breathing on her own, but she’s still very swollen. And though her x-rays show that her skull, spine, neck - pretty much everything except her jaw - are in tact, she’s having some trouble coorindating her movements due to pressure on her nerves from the swelling. The vet needs to see her controlled movement return before he’ll perform the surgery.
She moved plenty when she saw me, though! As soon as she heard my voice, her head popped up and she scrambled to her feet and flopped toward me. She pushed her head against my hand, like she always does when she wants me to pet her MORE! and HARDER! And she purred and purred and purred.
She’s going to be okay. It’s just going to take a little longer than we thought.
Feb
20
Blessed
by Leslie
Today, my kitty Picasso was hit by a car.
And I’ve never felt so lucky.
I’m lucky because Dave got up extra early this morning and rewrote the plans we’d made the night before and went to town to get us breakfast. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have found her on the road on the way back home.
I’m lucky to have held enough sick, injured and dying animals - I mean, if I hadn’t dealt with Max losing his tail, I may not have been able to pick her bloody body up off the road without hesitation or fear so we could get right to the business of saving her life.
I’m lucky because my parents were there to assure me that dad had the kids and mom was taking the cat to the vet so I could go teach Kindermusik.
I’m lucky because by the time I got the estimate for her surgery, I had enough money sitting in my account to cover the bill when I didn’t yesterday.
I’m lucky because tomorrow my kitty will come home. Alive.
Feb
15
The Nap Warden
by Leslie
if you can get past the cat
defender of sleep
Feb
14
I tried my very best to give my girls more love than candy for Valentine’s Day, but it didn’t stop them from overindulging. Grandma gave them each a four-pack of ring pops. I gave them each a marshmallow lollipop. And that was the extent of the candy.
But here they are at 7 a.m.
Julia is double fisting ring pops and Lucy is showing off her unwound marshmallow rope that she carried and nibbled until it fused her hands together, along with an assortment of hair, lint and dirt, perhaps even a fly.
Julia called it the best day ever, which she recanted at 9:36 p.m. when she was made to GO TO BED FOR THE LOVE OF CANDY! By 10:01 p.m., it was renamed the worst day ever, which wasn’t far from the truth for me.
My blog was spammed early this morning, which isn’t a HUGE deal. I mean, it’s annoying and stupid and a waste of time. But no one has died from it. Yet. It happens now and then - some worthless jacknut with no moral values replaces my header with junk links. It’s happened often enough that I know how to fix it, but infrequently enough that I have to stir up my thinker to remember how to do it. And while I was poking around, trying to remember where that thing was I needed to click, I restored my database and lost everything I’d posted here since January 15th. INCLUDING YOUR COMMENTS. Your lovely, beautiful, and fabulous comments.
At least I still have those in my e-mail.
I called my web host for help restoring my posts, but they said what I did couldn’t be undone which I didn’t really believe so I sobbed and cried and begged until I was put on hold while the man went to “see what we can do.” Basically, what they could do was advise me to back my stuff up more often and have a great day.
Thankfully, God and some people invented Bloglines who had my posts sitting in a cache and I was able to repost them. This took a LONG, LONG TIME, however. And when I was done, I was rewarded with two break-up e-mails from subscribers who didn’t want to hear from me anymore. Apparently 33 republished posts was the limit on how much of me they can take in their inbox. Sorry, dudes. Of couse, you don’t know I’m sorry because you don’t want to read what I write anymore. I still love you, though. You’ll just never know it.
Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone that’s left. Back up your files.
Feb
14
No One Loves Yue Like Your Sister
by Leslie
my favorite Valentine
wasn’t even mine
Feb
12
highly customizable.
simple. delicious.
Feb
10
but I was denied now that
Julia knows how
*They’re reading The Gas We Pass: The Story of Farts (My Body Science)
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Stuff I Dig
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You Should Do This
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Ooooooh. Aaaaah.
