Illustrated Book Report: The Odyssey

You saw the RockStar’s work when she was five in the ground-breaking illustrated Shell Report.

I just thought you might want to know what she was up to now, at age fourteen.

Illustrating The Odyssey, of course….

My personal favorites are the Cyclops, seen again below (also a favorite of my daughter’s, apparently) and Penelope with arm akimbo.

Just where have you been all this time, Mister?  This story better be good!

I wanted the RockStar to draw Charybdis, because Scylla and Charybdis just go together like bread and butter, like mmm and Malabrigo.  But she seems to think it’s rather a challenge to draw a whirlpool as a stick figure.

The RockStar Reloaded

Exactly one month ago today, The RockStar (my teenage daughter) had her 14th birthday — part of the impetus for the RenFest trip of a month ago, as a matter of fact.

(She got knitwear for her birthday: surprise, surprise!

Actually, she really really wanted a chullo hat, so was delighted.  And I confess that she did get some other things, also.)

It’s a big year for her: first year of high school, including high school show choir.  Three roles in the Nutcracker this year, including a brand new role with new choreography, and also she’s understudying a fourth role.  She continues as the lead singer with her alternative ‘garage’ band, which gave her her name on my blog.  In fact, they played the weekend after her birthday, at our church block party, and they are really getting very good.

“Waiting For Sunday“.

(No, not a Christian band; they often rehearse on Sundays, hence the name.)

(Click to embiggen if you wish.) These musicians have worked hard on their own for three years….a huge length of time at this age. And now they’re not only doing cover songs quite well, they’re performing originals….words and music by The RockStar, and arranged by the band.

Like this:

This mom is impressed, anyway.

So, last night, The RockStar had another milestone: first big high school dance.

Homecoming.

Awww.

Fourteen years have flown by.  I suspect the next four will go even faster.  Sigh.

Prelude to a Personal Pandemic, with a little Knitting

This thirteen-year-old, on her way to her 8th-grade-graduation ceremony and dance, looks so happy and lovely, doesn’t she?

The picture of health, wearing her new lacy wrap that her mother made her to match her vintage dress.

She graduated,

danced her silver shoes off, had fun with all her friends, even posed for a few more wrap pics when she came home.

(as did the wrap, click to embiggen if desired)

Who knew that even as those pictures were taken, that microscopic virus particles were replicating madly in her body?

The next morning, she looked tired, but said she just hadn’t slept well.  It was the last day of school, a half day only, and the school talent show; she and a friend were performing Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” (she singing, he on acoustic guitar).  Her forehead was cool and she had no other symptoms, so off she went to school.

While backstage, waiting to perform, she had shaking chills so bad she couldn’t stand, aches, a headache, a sore throat that came out of nowhere.  Of course, all her friends came over and hugged her while she was curled up sitting on the floor, having chills…. The teacher backstage tried to send her to the nurse, but now it was their turn to perform.  She told the teacher she would go as soon as she sang — it would only take two minutes.  Such a performer. She got up, sang on her shaky legs (they disinfected the microphone immediately thereafter), and was promptly sent home with a fever.

So: my poor daughter, in the end, was found to have H1N1 (swine) flu.  But the drama goes on, because in less than 48 hours she, I, and her friend were supposed to fly to College Park, Maryland (on the outskirts of Washington DC) for the finals of National History Day.  If she couldn’t go, her friend couldn’t either; they would have to withdraw (they were doing a dramatic presentation).  They had been working on this project literally all school year, and won at regional and state levels to be going to the national competition.  My daughter wanted to go, if at all possible.

My first concern was for my daughter’s health; my second was that her friend not get sick; my third was that she was safe to fly (that is, not get anyone else sick).  Once I realized she probably had flu from her symptoms (Wisconsin has the largest number of reported confirmed cases of swine flu in the U.S.),  my first call was to make a doctor’s appointment for that day, and the second was to an infectious disease specialist I know, who happens to be the father of my daughter’s friend as well.  I needed to know what the criteria were for her being safe to fly.  “No fever and no cough”.  OK.

To make an already long story a little shorter, by getting on an antiviral immediately (which shortens the period of infectiousness and symptoms), she got better remarkably quickly, and had no fever within 24 hours, and no cough by 36 hours.  So we flew to DC.  Her friend never got sick.  Neither did I.  My daughter did not feel good, granted, since she felt like a truck ran over her and had a constant headache unless she had ibuprofen on board.  And when she finished the antivirals, some other symptoms flared.  But they did their performance and got good comments from the judges, though they didn’t go on to the final round, to their great relief, actually.  (And we had a couple days for sightseeing, therefore.)

While I was gone, my husband and my younger daughter came down with the flu too.  My younger daughter developed croup and needed to be put on steroids.  Sigh.  So I was monitoring them and worrying from long distance, while nursing my older one and trying to make sure my daughter’s friend didn’t get sick (or me).   And hoping my mother, who’d been exposed to both daughters separately right before they got sick (you’re infectious in the 24 hours before you develop clear symptoms also), didn’t become ill either.

I still can’t believe I didn’t get it, but obsessive handwashing goes a long way, I guess.  There’s still some coughing and tiredness going on around these parts, but everyone is well on their way to being back to health now.  Many other middle schoolers got sick, at least a couple directly from my daughter (like the boy who played guitar with her), but there had been an outbreak that week, as it turned out; the cases just hadn’t been confirmed yet, so there had not been a notification (and I don’t know that it would have changed much, except reminding parents to keep kids with fevers at home; mine had no fever in the morning, when I checked by mommy-thermometer).  A letter came in the mail the next week…..

So that’s what I’ve been up to!

I hope to tell you more about DC, when time allows.  (Like about the girls feeling right at home in the Oval Office….)

Gothlet Gauntlets

As promised.  (Or as I warned you, or something.)  More than you probably ever wanted to know about these.

So, my younger daughter, the Gothlet, was all over the idea of elbow length fingerless mitts:  gauntlets, or armwarmers (but gauntlets just sound really cool, don’t they?).

This GothSocks self-striping yarn from Rainy Days and Wooly Dogs (etsy shop link) was going to be perfect for the gauntlets too.  But I had a quandary, which I’m having in regard to daughter #2 fairly frequently these days.  She is starting to sprout up like a weed.  I know the signs.  In a year or two, she’ll probably be as tall as her older sister the RockStar (who is, to the RockStar’s frustration, 5 feet 4 3/4 inches.  Why is that frustrating to her?  She’s still – only! — 1/4 inch shorter than me!).

So I don’t want to knit her something that she’ll outgrow in six months!  You understand.  Not only from the knitting-time-spent perspective….but also, if one knits something that the recipient really likes — one wants them to be able to wear it for a long time.  (We’ll gloss over the fact that tastes change at this time of life about every 3 months.  The semi-Gothness won’t change much, I suspect.  And she has always valued hand-made and hand-knit things, bless her heart, since forever.  So far, she’s all over this project.)

So… I set out to design long fingerless mitts that will fit my skinny barely 11-year-old now, and will still fit her (if she wants them to) through middle school and into high school.  Yet, they have to look smokin’, so they can’t be loose and sloppy for growth.  (Believe me, we go through this discussion with the jeans, and loose does not cut it currently with the 11-year-old.  But with gauntlets, it’s all about looks anyway, yes?)

Here’s my key to making it work.  See the underside of the mitts?

An insert of 2 x 2 ribbing helps keep the mitts conforming to her arm, but will stretch to fit an adult-size arm.  (Here it is on me.)

The mitt goes up almost to the crease of her elbow; you can see it’s still long but not quite so much on me.

I also shaped the mitt with decreases to conform it to the arm nicely.  Oh, and although the ribbing won’t show too much anyway, I did a knit row at the transition between stripes rather than knitting in the k2p2 pattern, to avoid ticks of color.  Keeps it looking crisp.

The hand is a bit trickier, because I don’t really like the feel of ribbing on my palm as much, and I think it interferes with some indoor tasks a little.  I have, and have made, all-ribbed mitts, but this is a smooth, sleek gauntlet.   So I changed to stockinette for the palm, but to help with conforming to a growing hand, I increased the needle size slightly (from 2.25 mm — US 1  — to 2.5 mm — what some call US 1 1/2.  This looser gauge makes the knitted fabric stretchier.  It’s less sturdy, but in a mitt, that’s acceptable (and tight and form-fitting on the hand could be a little annoying).   I’ll make the length down to the first joint of her middle fingers or so, so it’s a little long for her now; when she’s bigger, it will still be long enough.  And a little too big is OK; too small is miserable.

So far, this is going really quickly, though I messed up my own pattern on the hand and frogged that part.  The yarn and the dyeing are wonderful.  It’s kind of funny, continually trying the mitt on myself or her sister, and then again on the Gothlet, on an ongoing basis, to make sure it fits Gothlet-Now and Future-Gothlet.  But the system seems to be working!

Then I simply have to replicate exactly what I did, and do it all again for the second gauntlet.  Easy.

Right?

Playing Catch-Up

As usual.

Busy weekend…work, and then the Gothlet had her First Communion.

And Beya the kitten-cat seems to be a little older than we thought, just small for her age.  Why do I say this?   Well, we were going to take her in soon to be spayed.  Now, it will be sooner.  She went into heat this weekend.

Mrraawwwwrrrr.  Mrraaaawwwwwwwrrrr.  Again and again and again.  (Citrus doesn’t care in any meaningful way.)  Sigh.  She now has a preop appt in 2 days, and a date with destiny next Monday.

Maybe her frustrations are why I found this the other day:

Those are imported handmade porcelain Fu Dogs that I bought from an art gallery.  The kitten is SO lucky the female Fu Dog fell in such a way as to get lodged and not break.  I see now she’s also messed up the speaker wire and is in danger of pulling the lamp down.  Sigh.

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Well, a couple other things to tell you about (other than Madrona!).

One is, this wonderful swap package that I got from Carrie early last week:

(Beya of course had to check it out too.  She apparently knew there was something for her in there also!  See the blue tin just below?  “Fish Out Of Water” fishy treats!)

This was a part of the Knitters’ Coffee Swap Four.  Oh, the nummy things.

Raspberry and Orange Creme Sticks (mmm, perfect with dark roast coffee); Nikki’s English Toffee Chocolate Confection (English Toffee is one of my all-time favorite flavors); cute little Reese’s Whipps (Reese’s being the other all-time favorite flavor!! How did Carrie know?!); a Daelman’s jumbo caramel wafer, yum; and Lady Walton’s Creamy Dark Chocolate-Filled Wafer Cookies. And the coffee to drink it with: Italian Roast, WorldMarket House Blend (I don’t have a World Market close, but my sister-in-law loves the one near her), and oh, boy, Vanilla Macadamia Nut Kona!!

Then the non-edible treats: a Creative Knitting I don’t have, a little cookbook with ideas for dried fruits, fun stickers, cool reproductions of vintage cigar box labels (the top one says, simply, Hand Made!), and these gorgeous stitch markers:

The perfect accent for THIS lovely, elegant, soft yarn:

Noro Maiko, 35% wool, 30% kid mohair, 35% silk; nicely soft, looks like fingering to sport weight; should make a lovely lacy scarf, I think!  Not only do I not have any of this yarn, I had not yet even heard of it, so I am lovin’ it!

Wow!  Thanks again, Carrie!

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Here’s Saturday a-week-ago’s Snowy Saturday Sky — entirely forgettable.

This last Saturday’s Sky was rather prettier.

Though it would be so much prettier if it didn’t have the grrrrrr power line that cuts right across the back yard.  And there are similar lines going across our view in the front.   Grrrrrr!

I played around briefly and Photoshopped out the most obtrusive part of the power line.  Ah, that’s better.

In between, however, we had some obnoxious weather, which I realize much of the south and east have just experienced their own version of (so I’m not looking for any sympathy, just sharing pictures).  We were right on the edge of the temperature shift, so it started out as a couple hours of rain; then turned into slush falling from the sky, then little balls of ice.

Then to heavy snow, a white-out for about an hour.   But then it stopped.

At which point, all the rain had frozen hard under the snow, of course.  But it was mostly slushy, so not glare ice (hard on the walking, though).

Still cold, but they’re promising a warm-up soon.  The wind chills have been subzero F every morning, so I’ll believe it when I feel it.

Onto more cheerful matters.

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I have been knitting!  I finished a stealth project.  If you are in my family and your birthday is this spring, don’t follow this Ravelry link.

Having finished that, I cast on for Cookie A’s Thelonious Socks (it’s a KAL for The Loopy Ewe Spring Flingers) with this wonderful yarn.

The yarn is on the busy side for the pattern, true, but I decided in my head the little flecks of color would be like jazz notes punctuating the sock.  (I chose the yarn because the dyer is also going to be at the Fling, and the yarn was in my stash.)  I cast on yesterday; looks like not much so far, despite the fact that I’ve knit a fair amount.  But you can’t really see the pattern yet.

A little easier mentally is the other project I just started, Gauntlets for the Gothlet out of Gothsocks yarn.

(That’s a lot of Gs.)

Loving this yarn in a big way.

I’ll tell you about how I’m designing this in a later post.  But wanted to show the dyer’s work.  Gorgeous.

Though one of these projects is a somewhat complicated chart project, and the other simple knitting, I realized last night that they’re both on size 0s (2 mm needles).  My hands are complaining after knitting through two movies; my girls wanted to watch “Hercules” for nostalgia’s sake, and then my husband wanted to watch “Local Hero”, I think ditto.  I usually don’t get that much sitting and knitting time; it was great, except my thumb and fingers are requesting a project on needles at least double the thickness….

Hmm, a BSJ (Baby Surprise Jacket) may be happening soon.  That would be a pleasant break in DK-weight yarn.  Or my sportweight yarn from Madrona may arrive that I’m planning to make a red shawl from!  But I think my fingers may secede from the union if I don’t placate them by switching up a bit.  (Or maybe the oh-so-warm tropical 40 degree F weather they’re promising later this week will help!  One can always hope!)

I Haz a Proud (or two)

Sorry for the Lolspeak; it just seemed to fit.

I’ve been working on a Madrona post, which just keeps getting longer, the more I write.  (Funny how that works.)  But part I is almost set.  In the meantime, though, I had to share a little maternal pride from this past Friday.

First, the RockStar had her Wisconsin State Music Association’s Solo and Ensemble regional ‘festival’.  Vocal and instrumental musicians participate to undergo ratings and constructive criticism by judges.  If your piece is in the most difficult category, and you perform outstandingly, you go on to the State competition/festival.

The RockStar and her friend sang a duet beautifully, though both had colds, and received a 1 rating – the highest possible for their class B piece.  Here they are, not being nearly serious enough while awaiting their turn, with their accompanist.

They really blended well, listened to each other, had stellar tempo and key changes; it was beautiful (and a moving piece: “Inscription of Hope” — YouTube link, the best one I could find; there were a number of YouTube renditions that weren’t as well done as my girls’ above).  I heard the same piece done twice more that day not as well, so appreciated them even more.

Then, later, the RockStar sang her solo, which was in Italian, “Se tu m’ami” (another YouTube link).

A little more serious now, but not much (just waiting).

She got a number of excellent critiques from the judge, but left, I think, feeling sure she hadn’t gotten a ’starred first’, the prerequisite to go to State; as she had had all sorts of glowing positive feedback on the duet, which was considerably easier, and she mostly heard about things she could improve upon after her solo.

I pointed out to her that she had indeed done very well (though hearing this loud child of mine being advised to sing out was rather amusing: but her cold had left her somewhat breathy, and the piano was in front of her and playing loudly).  And I reminded her that, if she had done well enough, she would need to sing the song again at State, and she had been given a number of excellent recommendations to improve her performance.  (I found out later who her judge was, and was even more impressed; believe me, he has the credibility.)

Anyway, after waiting and waiting, her score was posted: indeed, a starred first, and on she goes to sing at State.  It was only the second vocal starred first in the first several hours of the festival.  She’s worked hard at this solo and it showed: her Italian sounded fluent and smooth, and her intonation and dynamics were great.  And this is a girl who has only had a handful of vocal lessons from a college student who has since graduated. (I’m going to miss her state performance!  I will be on a school trip to Washington DC with the Gothlet.  Darn.  At least I heard her sing this time.)

So that is Proud Moment number One.

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Friday night then, the Gothlet had her kid birthday party:  a roller skating party,

(That’s her in the orange shirt: she has her own sense of style, which is very definite.  No Hollister shirts here, believe me.)

then her first sleepover (which resulted in me going to work on a snowy Saturday with less than 5 hours of sleep due to several crises of various sorts; but that’s all we’ll say about that).  But here’s the Gothlet proud moment:

She’s not a particularly strong skater (I did see this more than once)

but as I kept an eye on her and her friends, I saw her in the middle of the rink, comforting a little girl who was sitting down, crying.  As I watched, she helped the little girl to her feet, then slowly skated with her, guarding her from faster skaters, off the rink over to where her parents were.  (Apparently she’d fallen and hurt her wrist, and her parents hadn’t seen yet, because the protective wall makes it hard to see someone on the ground unless you’re close.)

I was so proud of her.  No one else had helped the little girl yet, and my Gothlet took the initiative, and not as someone who was the absolute most secure skater out there, but she felt she could help, and she did.

That’s my girl.  Proud Moment Number Two.

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So, two different parental proud moments.  One is truly because of a remarkable God-given talent and its use, though granted, hard work did go into the performance.  The second, because of an action, a real-life living out of a principle, of quiet compassion and aid to one in need of help, without fanfare.

I’m very proud of both my Friday girls.  But I’ll leave you to deduce which proud moment left the warmest afterglow inside.

Happy Birthday, Gothlet!

Yesterday, the Gothlet turned 11.  A momentous number, somehow.

I had meant to put up a post on The Day — but we were too busy doing things for her birthday, much of the day.  I had just returned from my trip, and had taken the day off to spend time with her.

Part of her celebration?  Having me take the corn snake, Trinity, in to school (with the definite support of her teacher) so the Gothlet could show her off and talk about her.  She’s a nature girl, all right.

Hard to believe that my sweet, sunny baby girl

is now a somewhat sardonic albeit beautiful young woman.

(We see this face a lot.  Besides, any time a picture is taken, the long-suffering attitude comes out.  Or the patented Gothlet Death Stare.) 

Besides being privy to her pithy wit (and I have misplaced the Gothlet wit and wisdom that I had written down, else I would have shared more — no doubt it will resurface and be shared in the future!), I have enjoyed seeing this self-possessed child come into her own over the last year.  For most of her life, she has been somewhat overshadowed by her loud, extroverted and undeniably talented older sister.  Starting with her first Halloween.

(Well, which would you rather be:  Dorothy or Toto? Though you have to admit, it’s a great costume for a 6-month-old.  Costumes courtesy of my mother….)

And it just kept going.

The Gothlet idolized her big sister back then, and tried to do everything she did.  But when Big Sister has a Big Headstart on you — it’s hard to be a little sister who’s good at some of the same things, but not necessarily better, and definitely younger.

Well, the hero worship, not so much any more — not since The RockStar entered adolescence and started acting silly (according to the Gothlet, though she says she’d use a different word).  And now the Gothlet has started to shine in her own spheres instead of trying to compete in her sister’s.  She continued piano when her sister quit.  And now she’s working on “Für Elise” and “Linus and Lucy” for the spring recital.  She thought about taking guitar like her sister, but instead took up drums after trying viola.  She’s a great drummer!  She’s taking more dance than her big sister, and is particularly good at tap (it must go along with the drumming).  She’s the studious one.  And the saver.  (She counted coup on her spendthrift big sister when she saved all her money from two birthdays and one Christmas plus some odd jobs, and had enough to buy an iPod touch all herself.  Her sister is SO jealous.)

And she’s always been the artist of the family, the intuitive and creative, introspective one.  The crafty one, too.  Both girls know how to knit: I taught them at the same time when they asked, though they didn’t do much with it at that point, then Maddie asked again a year or two later.  This time she wanted me to teach her Continental, the way I knit, instead of English, the way I’d taught them first (which is the way their after-school Knitting Club teacher knit).  She learned that way and was the first of the two to actually finish a project.  She also got my mother to teach her to crochet.  (Which I don’t really know how to do.)  This is the girl who made us all laptop computers with attached mice out of paper, tape and yarn when she was 4 or so.  We used to have to ration her tape….

So, happy birthday, my funny, witty, creative Gothlet!  Eleven’s a great year!  And you’ve been waiting to be not-a-kid for a long time.  I think you’re kind of an old soul anyway, but welcome to young womanhood.

Just remember not to use that sarcastic tongue on your mother, hmmm?

Rain and Random

Rain and 51 degrees, as we had today, is just not quite what we expect in February up here.  Thaw, perhaps.  All-day rain, not usually.  (I worked from dawn till dusk, so no pictures, but I expect you can imagine gray and rainy on top of dirty gray snow and ice.  Not much in the colorful department.)

Though it was raining and about this temperature the day that the Gothlet was born, almost 11 years ago: I remember going for a walk in early labor, trying to get the irregular contractions a little closer together, and stepping over puddles in the neighborhood.

Yes, the Gothlet’s going to be ELEVEN in a week, and she has definitely transformed into a Pretëën (trying to subvert some weird searches there, or channeling the Swedish chef, not sure which).  Mostly in the Attitude department.  She’s always had a certain sardonic wit.  Even back when her father would tell her as a toddler/preschooler, “Cute don’t cut it”, to remind her that batting her eyes would get her nowhere, she would fire back “Cute DO cut it!” because, of course, a winning smile and long eyelashes can get you a certain amount in life, whether justly or not.  Not perhaps with her parents, who were immune, but in other situations….

That sardonic wit has now transformed into full-out sarcasm.  Which can be funny when the sarcasm is not 24/7, and not directed at what’s for dinner, or why practicing piano is or is not necessary, or my explanation as to why the gym teacher has to be tolerated though not loved.

Here she is, being forced to pose for a picture after she and her team won the city “Battle of the Books” championship last Friday (on to the state competition in a couple weeks, which they won last year).  Doesn’t the ‘Oh, Mom!’ come right through the screen despite the coaxed smile?  (Third picture attempt to get the smile, I said something tangential, probably something sarcastic.  Wonder where she gets it from?) (From her father, actually!)

There is a certain detachment, though, and sense of humor, that make me think the Gothlet could be an author.  Or an artist (she has leanings that way).  She sees the world from a slightly different perspective than most.

So, in honor of the Gothlet’s approaching 1-1, I will share a Goth-quote with you each post till the natal day.

Today’s is more about the recent point of view and sardonicity (yes,  I know that’s not a real word): the Gothlet told me yesterday that she informed her 11-year-old friend, who is fond of wearing H*llister and Aerop*stale T-shirts, that:

“You know, A_y, when you wear that, you’re just a corporate billboard.”

Yikes!

Is this how Michael Moore started?

The other Goth-quotes are a little farther back in time, in the innocent days of ten-and-a-half, and not quite so pointed, therefore….

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And now for something completely different, or perhaps just back to the beginning of the post.

In two days, I’m going where the weather we’ve just had is unremarkable for February.  Yes, I’m leavin’ on a jet plane and heading to the Pacific Northwest in the first of several knitterly jaunts this late winter/spring.  (Enough jaunts that I feel guilty.  Really.)

A friend that I met at BMFA Sock Camp last year, KT, talked me into coming to Madrona (Madrona Fiber Arts Winter Retreat, to give it its full name) this year.  (It was really hard to talk me into it.)  (NOT!) There was a lottery for several popular classes, including classes by Nancy Bush, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, and others.  I decided that if I got a lottery class, I would go (I had frequent flyer miles, and could take the time off work).  Indeed, I got into Nancy Bush’s “Overture to Estonian Lace” and signed up for a class taught by Elsebeth Lavold: “Viking Knits: Mitered Cables” (it’s about designing with cables and making them go around corners and such) also.  And I got on the waiting list for a class by Sally Melville about making your sweaters fit (just got into it a few days ago).

And then I find out that my internet Doppelganger twin Laurie is going to be there, and so is my other Sock Camp friend and kindred spirit Sam, and Tammy, and others that I met at Sock Camp, and WOW!  Not only am I going to be learning, really learning advanced techniques from knitting book authors, but I’m going to see friends again, and one friend I haven’t met yet (in the memorable words of the RockStar at age 4), AND rumor has it there will be more cool yarn there than one could possibly shake a stick at even if one wanted to do such a foolish thing.  NOT that I need more yarn, but still…..

Lots to do, to be able to leave pre-dawn in two days!

Which is probably why my dryer broke Sunday night….Life needed to be more interesting.

Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star

This is the Night Sky that greeted me on my way home late-ish from work last night.

Venus is at the top left, and the sliver of the new moon/waxing crescent between the tree and our neighbor’s house.

So, no, there is no real star in the above picture!  But wait, and you’ll find out the real reason for the post title.

I was only home briefly, as we were on our way to see Bobby McFerrin at our local fine arts college.  I had gotten tickets for the whole family, and one extra so that the Gothlet could bring a friend.

What an amazing concert and incredible performer.  Not just that voice (with its four-octave range) and the vocal innovations of his one-person a cappella arrangements, but the energy and the creativity that overflowed the stage, and the entire 1000-seat sold-out theater.

At one point, he asked for audience members to come down and sing with him — to sing a song of their choice and then he would sing along in accompaniment and counterpoint.  I nudged the RockStar (who really does have a voice that’s a gift).  No one came down right away (we’re a bunch of diffident German/Scandinavians, and the college students, who are less shy, were all in the upper balcony).  So my (13-year-old!) RockStar got up and walked to the stage first; hopped up and sat easily on the edge of the stage with Bobby McFerrin in front of a thousand people with a cordless mic in her hand.  She sang “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” a cappella (of course) with perfect pitch and perfect poise.  (It was the first thing that came to her head that she knew he’d know, and which I think was inspired: she had such a sweet, pure tone; started off singing it ’straight’, and on the last repetition, played with the melody slightly; and because it was so familiar, he really had fun with playing with his counterpoint second part.)  Then she got a hug.

WOW.

Later on, he asked for a small choir up on stage, and the Gothlet, not to be outdone, went up there with her friend (they have sung together in a city youth choir).  Also very cool, though they kind of got lost among the big people visually, but what they sang with each other and with Bobby was awesome (we got to sing with them too, at the end).

Wish I could have recorded these moments, but do you know what?  When I videotape or photograph something, I don’t see it quite the same way since I’m paying attention to framing the picture etc.  (I did have my camera with me, even.  But resisted the temptation — 1) not allowed, 2) see above, and 3) takes bad video!  Just wish you could have seen it too so you could know this wasn’t just a fond mother bragging.) In the end, perhaps this was better, since I was purely in the moment — 100%. 

Twinkle, twinkle, little — RockStar.

(I know, I know, not so little any more.)

Shine on!

O Christmas Stand

Do you remember how I lamented about how unready I was for Christmas, what with all the goings-on leading up to it?

Well, on Christmas Eve, with the large artificial tree we got a couple years ago up in the attic of the garage, and even more new snow on the ground, and musical commitments at church, we made an executive decision as a family.

The music stand I had given my husband for his birthday was standing in the area where we usually put the tree.

So we decorated the music stand and put presents around it!

O Christmas Stand, O Christmas Stand, how lovely are thy….ornaments!

I must admit, it was fast to take down, and the kitten didn’t bother it TOO much!

Soon — some of the Christmas knitting.