Through two shut doors, I can hear K warming up her voice. Tasha is in my room with me, resting her head on her paws, opening her eyes for a second whenever S hits a computer key louder than usual. S is stretched out on my floor, working on her homework, with Mozart’s “Lacrimosa” playing softly from her laptop.
S has only rarely been home before 6:30 p.m. since mid-March, but sailing is winding down for the season. It’ll be nice to see her more–many weekends the sailors leave for their regatta straight from school on Friday and don’t return until Sunday evening.
S’s on the far left in this lineup of some of the girls on the BHS sailing team. B spent Saturday and Sunday with the team at their last regatta of the year in Anacortes and came home with some pictures.
A had a piano examination on Sunday, which spurred a terrific conversation between K and A afterwards when he told her about the strange and terrible stage fright he experienced for the first time, sweaty fingers slipping on the keys, a rushing in his ears during the ear training playback.
She reassured him and told him validating things about performing despite the nerves.
I started a few new books during my quiet weekend. I’ve been making more time to tell my students about what I read for the sheer love of it as well as what I read because it’s informative or necessary.
It turns out I really like reading memoirs by neurotic people. (Running with Scissors, An Unquiet Mind, etc.) Susanna Kaysen’s Cambridge is proving to be a gently humorous, captivating vision of an eight-year-old’s world.
I’m reading another in this sub-genre (but not for long–it’s just a slip of a book): Carlyle’s House and Other Sketches by Virginia Woolf.