A magician

It’s blurry but it’s probably the glow of her magic making it so.

Greatauntofmine has been in and out of ICU.  When she was released today she had what’s known as ICU delirium.  Who knew that was a thing?  

I walked into her hospital room and she said “I’m dying, they shot me.  Ask him out there.  I was shot.  They brought me here to watch me die.”

This went on for 45minutes.  Then Dr. Mays showed up, calmly explained to her (using near identical words) that her brain was traumatized from being so sick and was making sense of things the best it could and when she saw someone shot on television and then pulled out her IV bleeding all over the place that’s what it did.

Aunt looked at me and said “now her I believe.” I don’t swear much on here but holy fucking shit what the fucking what!?

And the reason I have her picture was so that when she left I could show aunt and say remember what she said?!

Hey wait,

I totally forgot to show you the cutest knitting picture I've ever taken- I wish she felt as sweet as she looks but mostly she was just annoyed that I was taking her picture and stealing her soul.

An update on the school space.  A week has gone by and there has been no dumpster fire in the front of my room.  I figured out how to use the panoramic feature on the tablet so there is this- which is zoomable

At the high school today-

The young lady that wants to see how far she can go- if I'm really who I say I am- was playing the first two phrases of Twinkle Twinkle.  She got to the part that was no longer an open string and said "oh shit."  I laughed and sang twinkle twinkle little star oh shit.  Later as they were talking about "shredding it on the uke" she said "yea, I'm gonna shred this uke and then I'm going to shred your mama."  I laughed, looked at her and the class and said Really?  don't do this to me.  The room relaxed and all was well.

One of the questions that I asked on their music personality survey was What is your earliest musical memory?  Her sister answered Brittney Spear's Hit me Baby One more Time and added only My mom isn't a good person.  wow. Reading that gave me a chance to pause, recognize where the anger, defiance and challenging behaviors were coming from and I could respond in a way that was good for her instead of defensive for me.

And finally- I was walking toward my room before class which had a table of ukuleles easily seen from the hallway.  A former student (I recognized him but couldn't remember his name) asked why they were there, asked if he could play one and talked about how much nicer it was than the one he had from his grandfather. (this was a $40 uke- he must be playing on a log.)  I told him how much they cost and that I could order one if he wanted one.  But then I said maybe he should try new strings on his, that makes all the difference and I offered to bring him a set next week.

He was grateful and in an amazingly polite older than his years way, thanked me, shook my hand and introduced himself as Justin.  I said "I know you Justin Black (I remembered his last name once I heard his first) I was your elementary music teacher, Mrs. Terry.  I cut my hair"

Justin freaked the hell out.  He was so excited.  Mrs. Terry!  I can't believe it!  You were such an inspiration to me- I play ukulele and guitar now because of you! I'm in two bands- a heavy metal and a punk band. Wow!  I can't believe it. etc. etc.etc. What an absolute gift that was.

Just the day before I was listening to the giggles of kindergarteners playing "Open them Shut them" without any words,  It was one of "the moments." Perfect response, perfect giggles, perfect start to kindergarten music.  That also felt like such a gift.  Today it was re-gifted in knowing that it can lead to the likes of a Justin response.

Can’t hide the smile

So we’re supposed to blur any kids faces but once again I have to leave the smile there because she’s using her classroom teachers pointy finger to pick my nose.

Seven flipping teen

Here’s what it looks like-

Too too many. I need to just stay chill on the outside but seriously I am panicking on the inside. I already knew 10 of them-seven are new.  Including the twins (one far right middle row, the other center middle row) They give off a smart and snappy but respectful sort of vibe.  I’m not sure I’ll be able to afford stocking the pantry for the whole week. The one on the top right  wrote an I<heart>u at the bottom of her snack food preference page.  The one at the other end of the top row told me I was her favorite teacher (actually she amended second favorite after math) ever.  And it was only third period.

The way I see it the way to build relationships is to establish trust.  I shared a lot about myself, my life now, what my life was like in high school.  It was one of those pin drop quiet moments. The point was also to say that whatever they’ve got going on outside of school- they’re ok and they matter.  

I just think class wise everything is going to take a lot more time. Closer to what I thought it would be last year.

At the elementary school I am still waiting for a confirmation on which kids I see when and what I'm supposed to do with them when they get there.  I’m over the fact that I could be doing this much more quickly and efficiently because it’s nice not to have to but I’m starting to get frustrated with the always changing not knowing what it is aspect.  Especially since the schedules I made ran as printed on the first day with the only complaints being typos.  Today I pointed out one problem on what was supposed to be a final version and she looked at me and said “oh I forgot to take that off of your printed copy, it’s not on mine.”  We’ll o.k. then.

Yesterday she also said that maybe I could teach music to first grade two times a week if I focused on rhyming.  I managed not to say “name me a song or a poem (which is all that I teach with if she ever looked at my plans) that DOESN’T rhyme for Pete’s sake.

There is what I believe to be one of the kidnapped immigrant children in my third grade.  We were looking at the floor rug of the United States and walking to the vacation places and he asked me where “Old Mexico” was on the map.  Come to find he speaks Spanish (though his English seems good (but now that I think of it there were a few time when he didn’t follow directions and maybe he just didn’t understand them.) He was definitely digging the interaction- time to download the Spanish dictionary.

And in the category of “kids say the darnedest things”... Michael is on the spectrum.. when kids are playing instruments he waves his hands in the air and says “do you like my directing?”  Preferring not to play an instrument and not really noticing that he isn’t.  His teacher last year was in constant angry mean sarcastic yelling voice. Let’s call her Mrs. Miller.  Today on the first day of fourth grade music I was talking about being kind.  I noted that after spending every day together, we sometimes can get on each other’s nerves.  When that happens we tend to pull out the mean “I’m right you’re wrong” voice. And then I demonstrated it.  Without missing a beat Michael said “that sounds just like Mrs. Miller.”  I’m pretty sure he wasn’t really disrespecting his former teacher (who thankfully left the profession this year.). He was just making an observation.  A particularly awkward observation to his giggling classmates given that we had just talked about respect.  Hil. Air. Ious.

Day one is in the books.

Posterity

This post is for my future self.  When I forget about it I will laugh again.

In other last minute back to school news-

I still only get to teach music once a week and it’s taking almost as much grace as it did last year to deal with it.  I may secretly be thinking wait until I get my law degree and see what you think then. I don’t really think that but it helps to make me laugh.

I’m roasting some tofu with a tamari, olive oil, sesame oil, garlic ginger sauce.  I’m hoping to get a crunchy texture that doesn’t require frying it because that is such a hit and miss adventure.

Sigh.

Can you guess what we did today?

Staff Development Art

Below is a slide from a session on building your 

professional learning twitter account.  

I may have added the last line.

The never ending quest

The neverending quest to keep a minimalist school space took a step forward this year.

The large storage area with a double door entry has been cleared of all desks and detritus that prevented me from making full use of it.  As a result, all of the “stuff” of teaching can be stored and accessed away from the main teaching area.  Previously everything was on a cart and the carts hung out on the perimeter of the room.  Now the cart sits in the space waiting for the student helper to retrieve needed items and roll it out to everyone.

I’m going to have these pictures blown up and put on the walls so that the putter away-ers know what it should look like when they’re done because after 30+ years it’s painfully obvious that I can’t do that and there are, in fact, some kids who like to make things tidy. Go figure.

One of the most annoying parts of running a classroom is to pick kids to do stuff.  I try to make sure I spread the love but don’t know how successful I am.  So I bought tongue depressors.  Each class has an in cup and an out cup.  300+ names on depressors (writing that many is still better than having one in your mouth). I hope it becomes a convenience and not another new thing that I tried that didn’t work.

And finally the rule about charity is that it’s not really that if you talk about it. But it’s my blog and I only have 2-3 readers.  Also rather than a bragging thing it’s more about the gratitude that I have to be able to do small things.

We have a substitute custodian.  I taught her 2 boys, one grown and working, the other in high school (and possible in my music appreciation class though I’ve yet to get a class list.) She looks like she might weigh 100 lbs soaking wet.  I snagged her in the hallway and asked her to help me do the heavy things and to sweep and mop the new space.  She did so with a smile.  While it’s all in a days work, I gave her $20 to buy her son a pizza for dinner.  There can’t be much extra cash in custodian subbing.  She came back and thanked me again at the end of the day telling me that her son was excited and had placed his order. I am very grateful for the fact that finally at this point in life I have the means to be helpful.

Tomorrow there is a keynote speaker on working with children who have experienced trauma.  There were absolutely no music teacher sessions after that so I am going to one on making the most of your professional twitter account (really?  I’ll admit I’m going to it to look for ways for greathusbandbob to spread his presidential top tens to a broader audience), a session on internet safety where I will be instructed to create passwords that are 25 characters long and a session called West Virginia  history which was the last choice available other than instruction on how to use the new math textbooks.

 Finally behavior rewards.  Classroom teacher each have their own things.  While I usually jus mlog on to whatever they do, I wanted some rewards in my room.  So far I’ve brought out the previously used risk rocks (dollar store river rocks).  I’ve got a large collection of shells which will be a reward for not being “shellfish”.  We had been using “caught being good” tokens at a school store.  That’s been discontinued but there are still plenty of tokens.  I think they might just like having tokens.  And as always, there are the Mrs. Terry picture stickers.  I really crack me up.

For the Record

Greathusbandbob and I looked at this house this afternoon.  There is a park across the street from it.  It is now painted dark turquoise.  It is completely gutted with no electricity, plumbing, walls etc. It has a carriage house.

I am stating here for the world to know.  I would give up every hobby and every aspiration I have to live in a house like this.  I would sand and patch and paint every night into the wee hours.  I would sell my yarn stash to pay for it.

That being said, it's not likely but I've let it be known.

Delish Dish

Last free Monday of Summer brought artichoke spinach lasagne. I wish I would remember that the food processor is easy to clean. The green sauce came from processed artichoke hearts and spinach.

End of the summer critter making pause- right now its a headless bear but it is one of the best patterned knitted critters I made.  Very clever.

And finally the end of the summer binge is Insatiable.  Awesome.

Ready set No.

Sometimes, in spite of his best intentions, greathusbandbob doesn’t always register what I am saying.  He pretends to listen but unless it’s a commercial there’s no guarantee.  Enter my turn at the living room chalkboard.

Sadly there are things on the schedule.  Teachers go back on the 16th.
At least a small casino windfall led to some gel nails.

Hi freakin ho

Music appreciation plans-

I spent yesterday and this morning working on those plans.

They didn't listen to enough music last year.  I didn't force appreciation on them.  I also didn't really find a way for them to appreciate the unfamiliar much.

This year I am starting each class for the first month with recordings of Gustavo Santaolalla's guitar pieces. (heard here if you are so inclined)

It's guitar.  He writes a lot for tv and film so the sounds will be familiar.  Nothing is longer than 4 minutes so I can keep their attention.  He writes in clear AB and sometimes C form.  He changes meter and dynamics.  This will give us an introduction to the vocabulary of describing what is heard and practicing purposeful listening.  My only hope is that I don't hear someone say "there's 5 minutes of my life I'll never get back"

I'll follow the unit of the plans I developed for the first quarter, exploring the elements of music, starting with melody and moving to rhythm.  When the Santaolalla part is over, I'm developing a unit for the month of October called "Classical Music is Scary"

More listening but now more complicated and hopefully just accessible enough because of the whole Halloween connection.

Things I have learned in the process of compiling the Halloween business.

Night on the Bald Mountain is about the Witches Sabbath on the Summer Solstice.

Dance Macabre is about skeletons leading people to their death with the general idea that we are all equal in death.

The guy who composed the music to the original Psycho was cranky and hot-tempered and also composed the music to the Twilight Zone

The scene in the Shining where Danny Torrence rides the big wheel in the hallways is as terrifying in isolation as it is within the context of the movie.  It is made more so by Bela Bartok's piece Music for Strings, Percussion and Celeste (mvt 3)

Don Giovanni is the Italian version of Don Juan. And the story really is, after he seduces all of the women he can find, the dead father - the Commandatore(who Don killed) of one of them comes to life at dinner and drags him to hell.

Grieg's In the Hall of the Mountain King is about trolls, gnomes and goblins punishing Peer Gynt for seducing a young girl.  In the play the lyrics are.

Slay him! The Christian man’s son has seduced the fairest maid of the Mountain King!

Slay him! Slay him!

May I hack him on the fingers?

May I gug him by the hair?

Hu, hey let me bite him in the haunches!

Shall he be boiled into grothe and bree to me:

Shall he roast on a spit or be browned in a stewpan?

Ice to your bood, friends!

Yikes.

The two note theme in the movie Jaws plays every time the shark appears EXCEPT for the final scary part at the end. The predictable music and then lack thereof is used to created even more surprise.

Who knew?

Eggplant Pizza 1.0

Things to note for next time.  When making pizza, the toppings go in between the sauce and the cheese. How I could I not remember that.  When trying to pull moisture from the eggplant before cooking, rinse the salt off before cooking.  It wouldn’t be horrible with the skin removed.  Basil garlic pesto (premade) is delicious and what they put on white pizza. Maybe roast both sides of the eggplant before adding pizza ingredients. Then broil.

This whole pan was only 543 calories so in terms of a way to eat fresh melted mozzarella cheese, it’s a win.

Buildings and what to do in them

Buildings stay the same,  people come and go in them.  Everyone thinks of their building as their building without really thinking about whose building it was before or will be after.  It’s the same building but a different place for any given former or present occupant.

The building that is the gym is designed so that there are big windows between people in the gym area, specifically the treadmills and Nordictracs look out onto the indoor walking track. They are parallel to one another so if you’re on a treadmill, someone may suddenly pop into your field of vision and disappear just as quickly.  Today it was all I could do to not do funny walks, and ridiculous movements as I passed those windows while on the track.  I was laughing out loud to myself at the possibilities.

Home but not home.

It was adventure day today.  First a drive to the Ville of Steuben to plan for retirement.  I also stopped at the funeral home to figure out what to do with Aunt if/when she goes.  Come to find they take care of moving things. Whew.  I wasn't looking forward to a Weekend at Bernie's.

After that I drove to Center Market in Wheeling and ate what they called a crepe at a little place called Later Alligator-

It was good but it was more of a pancake than a crepe- it was filled with ricotta, roasted tomatoes, pesto and a few pine nuts.  It was "Wheeling Fancy."

Not wanting to eat two lunches, I headed to Coleman's fish market and brought home dinner for the big guy and myself.  To the untrained eye it might not look like much but it is the only battered fish I will eat. AND it's listed on the LoseIt app which I've started using again (450 calories)

There are a a lot of several a few cute shops in the area.  It's trying SO hard to be cool and hip in a Charleston, S.C. sort of way. I managed to stay out of the antique shops.  The thing about those is that everything looks good when its all next to each other and functions as designer junk.  When you bring a piece of it home it just becomes junk.

There was a gift shop that caught my eye and I purchased this t-shirt. It cracks me up and will be the perfect shirt for field day next year when I do my rock paper scissors station.

When you have places in your dreams, they take on Seussical proportions.  I drove through some of the places I visit at night just to make sure they're real.

I climbed these steps at least once- sometimes twice- a day- no wonder I was so skinny.

The house has seen better days, (at least days where there wasn't a mattress on the porch) but on the stoop just behind the garbage cans and into the road is where summer evenings were spent hanging out with Jeff and Fred. One time Fred killed a frog with a rock in that very spot.  He meant to miss.

I aso drove past the site of my first summer job.  It was once called Good Shepard Nursing Home. Now it is still a home for the elderly but is called Welty.  The mural reads "when my needs changed."  I feel like the bottom half should say "I could only afford this prison."  I never left the kitchen but it was one of the most depressing places ever.  It may have once been a convent, I'm not sure.

I did the obligatory drive past the high school (which is "on the way" to nowhere.)  Just as I was leaving I caught a glimpse of the band rehearsing in a far field. By then it was time to go.  Nostalgia accomplished.  Seussical places confirmed. And all I got was this t-shirt.

Sometimes you just color

The next adventure

A few summers ago a former college classmate posted an advertisement about a Rock and Pop summer camp.  I was so excited.  I wanted to go.  I got in touch with him.  It was just for kids. It was a little embarrassing but kind of hilarious.

Last night at 10:00 pm I got a text from the same friend asking if I was free today to fill in for an instructor that couldn't be there. (also a college friend)

It was for the last rehearsal of a group of girls ages 9-11.  Their performance is tomorrow.  While I do have a fairly strong reputation as a music teacher of kids, I knew if he was asking me (the former would be camper) and it was 10:00 at night, he was desperate.  I  could not pass up a teaching adventure.

So from 1:00-3:30 today I taught a preteen girls rock band.  I taught it in a building where I used to teach general music. So first I present the steps I would walk up and down (with equipment- pre-ipod- bag of cds, instruments and a giant boom box) at Woodburn Elementary.

This first one is from the front door- the bottom looking up.

This second one is from the top looking down.

The walls did not have the cool graffiti they have now.  The steps are not standard size in height. They are a little shorter.  It's kind of amazing that I made it out of that job without broken bones.  There was never time for more than one trip so all of the above mentioned supplies were carried in tandem.  It makes me tired just looking at them.

This is the front of one of the rooms where I taught 5th grade. I clearly remember trying to teach the words to the French Christmas carol Trois Grands Roi. I carried an electronic keyboard that day.

This is the other side of the room, the same room I taught rock band in today. The window shades are exactly the same.  I am not.

There was a lot of talk about listening and concentrating which for 5 girls under the age of 12 from 1:00-3:30 pm in an un-air-conditioned summer afternoon was a challenge and an accomplishment. They didn't love me during the repetition but they were pleased with the end results.

They wrote a "protest against parents" song called Feedback.  It was a thrasher style song with three drums an electric guitar and a voice.  The first line is "I know you're the boss of me..." There's another line "who likes broccoli anyway..."

They are also performing a cover of Ed Sheeran's Perfect. It went from falling apart after 8 beats to recovering from any rhythmic jumps after each section.  If you look for PopShop on Facebook, they will be live streaming their performance at 1:00 tomorrow.  It was a trip.

In other news, I'm back in it to win it in food consumption.  The return from vacation shift to overnight oats for breakfast sort of clicked things into place. Yesterday was roasted broccoli in a very General Tso's kind of sauce with sesame seeds. Today was Caprese Portabella's

Before

 After

Probably the most delicious meal I've ever made.

Home Sweet Home

We pulled in around midnight last night.  The dog acted like one of those military reunion dogs.  She was crying even when she was with us.

There have been several posts in the last week concerning the humor in less than perfect public interactions.  For this last vacation post I just want to share a few people who were awesome this week.

The first one is the agent at the hotel (both at the beginning and end of the trip).  She was friendly.  You wanted to do more than just say "hey" and "thanks" so I took to saying "hi honey, we're home" as we returned from outings.  When it was time to drop off the rental, we took the bus from rental place to airport.  The hotel told us to call when we had reached ground transportation.  4 phone calls and 15 minutes later we finally caught the bus and all was well but it was pretty funny and she was pretty patient.

That very first day we ate at a Jack in the Box.  Greathusbandbob shared that this was my first Jack in the Box experience.  The server was so enthusiastic and laughing and smiling that I had to order her favorite just so she would like me more.  What a treat.

Last night was the best.  We were first to get on the parking shuttle after getting home.  We gave him what I thought was our stop number. The bus filled up and another couple was trying to get on in spite of that.  The driver told them there was another bus five minutes behind him and asked them to wait.  They grumbled and pouted and he told them to stop it and he finally let them on, crowding everyone in the back.

He has already collected all of the stop numbers but these last two impatient passengers had to dig around and hold things up to find theirs, slamming their luggage around as they did and announcing it was number 9.

During the drive he sneezed and looked a little startled when I said "bless you."  I guess he's used to feeling invisible.

He dropped us off and I (maybe a little loudly) said "you're stopping at nine last, right?"  He laughed.  We wandered around aimlessly.  He drove away and then drove back, knowing the parking area we needed didn't match the stop where we got off.  He made us get back on the bus and drove us where we needed to go.

Of course returning to the bus was awkward and to ease the uncomfortableness, greathusbandbob said "It's a three hour tour."  The driver said "I'm not Gilligan."  I said "Dear God, I'm glad your not, you're the professor!"  Then I announced that I was Ginger.  Then without blinking an eye he said, "Who are the Howell's?"  It was hilarious.

As he dropped us off he said "If I see you wandering around any more, you're going to have to come home with me."

It was one of those "I'm so tired, that was so nice and hilarious" moments that makes you feel like crying because someone was that helpful.  It was human beings on the planet enjoying life together as equals with no distinctions between age, class, race or otherwise and it was a small piece of experience that will stick with me for some time and make me feel just a little bit more o.k. about the state of the planet.

Dog in the Bed O.G.

This is Walter.  He is O.G. (Old Gangsta). He was the inspiration for my one hit wonder I Gotta Bury my Bone. I’m not surprised if you haven’t heard of it. It mostly ran in dog circles.  He also inspired the as yet incomplete Dog in the Bed and Small Dog in a Big Dog’s Body.

He’s a Great Dane-Lab mix (like Oona) and in his slimmer and younger ears would look like a Dane galloping after the ball in the Lab’s  body.  He is a dear.

Here he is in front of the portable air conditioner son in law brought out to save the day.  Today was the hottest day Seattle has ever seen. Naturally.  I tried to put his bed in front of the air for greater comfort but the pain in his hips makes it too difficult to quickly get to his feet if he has to protect us.

It was a relaxing day of knitting and pajamas until dinnertime. Highlights of dinner-rather than an eloquently written essay I’ll give bullet points.

• A 20 minute wait that was 45 minutes
• An additional hour before food was served (with a small basket of fries to “hold us over.”)
• A burger that was charcoal
• Refills (which this particular restaurant advertises as “their thing”) not forthcoming
• Macaroni and cheese with broccoli served ten minutes after the meal because broccoli was forgotten
• An adult size sprite in a glass for a child (with the waiter saying-I’m not going toahve to mop up later am I?)
• Water pitcher refilling an order of seltzer

And really I’m not complaining.  These are little things, and they happen. But when they happen after the car rental and bakery experience you just have to sigh a little, be glad you’re well fed and think about the ice cream at the house for later.

Edited to add...last night Walter slept on the floor at my bedside.  This morning he asked to go out. He was very subtle but I knew what he wanted.  As he went out the door he looked back as if  inviting me to join him so I did. Before relieving himself he picked up his tennis ball, walked a few yards with it, looked back again and dropped it. Later as I was packing he put his front paws on the bed, unable to get the rear ones up, for a little goodbye.  It’s probably the last time I’ll see him and he just wanted to say thanks for rubbing my itchy eyes.

One More Thing

I thought maybe  it was the 2 1/2 hour car ride that made me a little more impatient. I was third in line at the bakery knowing exactly what I needed.  She was in her late 70’s with red dyed hair, a vibrantly colored flowered shirt and a walking stick.  She asked questions about Every Single Menu Item.  Then placed her order-she wanted the small one for 280 instead of 7.99.  When told there was only one size, the difference between the calories column and the cost column had to be explained in detail with some disagreement as to whether a dollar sign should be placed before the cost of every item.

As this was happening I leaned forward to the exasperated couple in front of me and said I just spent 3 hours in a minivan with intermittently bickering teenagers and may or may not completely lose it at any moment. They said they had just arrived to the west coast after a 5 hour plane trip from Indianapolis.  I said “You win.”

The counter encounter continued.  Order near completion, she leaned over the bakery counter and said “I just have one more question and may want to order a pastry.”  The line has became 4 deep and the manager appeared from the back.  He started counting loaves of bread.  

The cashier reached for the ordered loaf of bread and the customer asks,

“Has that been out all day?”

“Yes.”

“You really should cover it.”

“Do you still want it?”

“Yes.”

The manager is now counting bagels. 

Return to the conversation with the plane passengers.

“We just returned from Victoria B.C. Canada.”  Realizing that my husband was in the car and I was standing alone I joked “me and my imaginary friend” and gestured toward the empty space next to me.

“Hi Bob,” said the traveler.

“That’s His Name!” And laughs helped the time pass as the customer figured out her Panera card.

Money and merchandise finally exchanged, there is a collective sigh of relief in the line.

She begins to step away from the counter and in true Colombo fashion says “one more thing....” (we all breathe deeply in anticipation of summoning just a little more patience.)... “Can you open this bottle for me.  I have arthritis.”

The travelers step forward and now, 25 minutes since I walked into the store,  the manager finished counting baked goods and said “I can help whoever’s next.”

Saturday morning

The trip finished with baby goats at Beacon Hill Children’s Farm.  This really amounts to a pen full of people and baby goats. It is surrounded by a huge park with (wait for it) beautiful gardens.  The painter/author Emily Carr discovered on Friday once called the Park her backyard and raised old English sheep dogs on the property.  I’m glad to have a place to put her in my head.

It seems as though they may come from a long line of goat whisperers.  It was in the picture below that I caught a glimmer of their five and six year old selves.  It was lovely.

This introverted gated needed some time to decompress.  A goat after my own heart. Don’t mind that the sign says Time Out.  Every bad behavior has a cause.

The wait for the border crossing customs was tedious, made more so by one of our passengers flipping out about how and when to purchase our reserved tickets.  The Boy was sad to leave his goat behind. During the Ferry ride back we spotted some orcas spouting water and flipping their tails. And then there was the two hour return trip.  

We left the house of daughter where excitement over the recently acquired dog overshadowed any long goodbyes. We crossed the bridge to s Panera’s in Issaquah where I spent 25 minutes waiting for bagels.  It’s a long story maybe worth its own post later.

Finally arrived at son's  house where knowing how absolutely burning up we were while sleeping all week,  he immediately set up the portable air conditioner in our sleeping room.  He also made sure that fans were delivering cross breezes throughout the house.  It’s the little pieces of thoughtful that mean so much. At first I thought I wanted hotel the last three nights but the change in vibe, appreciation and lack of entitlement in our new digs makes staying here enjoyable.