Lilac Festival 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Completely unrelated to home schooling
There will be a new Dick Francis book coming out on September 17.
It's called Dead Heat.
Yee-ha!
I mean this literally, from the bottom of my heart.
Although I'm sure he'll never top To The Hilt.
It's called Dead Heat.
Yee-ha!
I mean this literally, from the bottom of my heart.
Although I'm sure he'll never top To The Hilt.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Hard work pays off
I mentioned in my post on May 4 that Madison was practicing to audition for the Bach Children's Chorus, which is an amateur-but-professional-quality classical children's chorus here in Rochester which sings in many languages. It's for 8-to-17-year-olds, with the average age of about 12, I'd estimate. Madison will be 8 in September, so she's on the young side.
The audition pieces were rigorous -- one song was in German -- and they sing very high -- she had to be able to sustain a high G in one place, and get to it from a B-flat.
They give you a one-to-one pre-audition workshop which was last Saturday, and at it, my baby crashed and burned out of a sudden case of nerves. I felt so terrible for her, but she did not get very upset about it, especially when I assured her that this happens to many and that she's really on the young side to be trying out for the choir anyway. I was very proud of her for keeping her composure. I also felt really guilty for not having given her much more guidance than I had, I had basically left her on her own to listen to the practice CD. She knew the German no problem, but vocally she just couldn't hit the high notes.
The audition-proper was yesterday, and so, in the spirit of "if Mom doesn't know the tips to give you, she'll find someone who does," on Sunday I had a friend who sings classically work with her, and on Monday and Tuesday I got her two lessons at a conservatory near here. And yesterday, she rallied incredibly, and did VERY well at the audition (it helped that the director, who had been very pressed for time on Saturday and had basically dismissed her at the time after Madison had said "I CAN'T sing those high notes," had seen so many children in the last week that she didn't really remember Madison, so she didn't remember how badly she had done the first time).
You might get the impression that I was pushing her to be in the choir, but that isn't the case at all -- the kid loves to sing, and wanted so badly to be in the choir that she worked like heck, all from her own impetus, for the last three weeks. I did want her to get in because it's exactly the kind of musical experience that will focus her, she'll love it, they sing BEAUTIFUL music (when I was a child playing cello in the NJ Region II orchestra, it would move me that I was part of making beautiful music, and that stayed with me forever), and she'll become friends with good kids who are like her. But I really only wanted her to get in because SHE wanted to get in...I certainly didn't push her at all. She didn't have the sense that I wanted her to get in for any reason other than that I wanted to help her get what she wanted.
Part of the reason the director was impressed yesterday, I think, is that Madison was very willing to work there with her to do what the director wanted...she took Madison through various exercises to see her range, to help her envision the various notes, to correct a bit of the pronunciation. There was no fidgeting, no resistance, just focus on the director and willingness to follow the directions. Part of that was that she had gotten used to that from the various lessons she'd had this week. I was just about bursting with pride.
Even Madison could see the difference after the pros helped her out in the last several days. "Mom," she said in the car after the audition, "I couldn't have gotten in if it hadn't been for you helping me practice and getting me the lessons." I was stunned that at 7 she could step back and see that, but of course I downplayed it. "That's my job, to get you the tools you need to do what you want to do," I replied.
I was actually more stressed out than Madison was between Saturday and today, although she of course didn't know it. It's possible that the hives I broke out in on Saturday afternoon were the main manifestation of my internal strife. The night before the audition, I woke up at 4am with the music playing loudly in my head, and couldn't get back to sleep for 2 hours. This morning, even after Madison's success yesterday, I also woke up at 4am with the music playing loudly in my head, and because I couldn't get back to sleep, here I am at the computer at 5:30.
I was so worried that Madison would be devastated if she didn't get in, that this would reinforce her tendency to hedge-the-bet and denigrate herself and predict doom rather than success, to prevent that kind of disappointment in future endeavors. She really would do that, too, she's so passionate about things. I know that if she didn't get in after working so hard, that this in itself would have been a valuable lesson, that sometimes you work hard and it doesn't work out, but I want her to learn THAT lesson a little later in life than 7! Madison takes things too seriously so often, so I had so carefully to harness her drive and use it to motivate her to practice, but also to balance it with the reassurance that if she didn't get in this year, she's really on the young side ("sometimes I do take third graders," the director commented, "but not often."), that there are other choruses she could sing in if she didn't get in.
But it looks very much like she got in. Comments like, "she has a beautiful voice," and "I think this program will be exactly what she needs" and "I'm very suspicious of voice lessons around here because they tend to emphasize chest voice over head voice, and the kids lose the ability to sing in the head voice...she might be better off just in the chorus with no lessons at all" and "we can't let people OFFICIALLY know until after June 4" tell me that the director will let her in.
What a relief.
And, as I've been telling her the last couple of weeks, simply the fact that she has worked SO HARD at this makes me so confident for her in the future, that she'll be able to achieve exactly what she wants to achieve in life. I'm so proud.
The audition pieces were rigorous -- one song was in German -- and they sing very high -- she had to be able to sustain a high G in one place, and get to it from a B-flat.
They give you a one-to-one pre-audition workshop which was last Saturday, and at it, my baby crashed and burned out of a sudden case of nerves. I felt so terrible for her, but she did not get very upset about it, especially when I assured her that this happens to many and that she's really on the young side to be trying out for the choir anyway. I was very proud of her for keeping her composure. I also felt really guilty for not having given her much more guidance than I had, I had basically left her on her own to listen to the practice CD. She knew the German no problem, but vocally she just couldn't hit the high notes.
The audition-proper was yesterday, and so, in the spirit of "if Mom doesn't know the tips to give you, she'll find someone who does," on Sunday I had a friend who sings classically work with her, and on Monday and Tuesday I got her two lessons at a conservatory near here. And yesterday, she rallied incredibly, and did VERY well at the audition (it helped that the director, who had been very pressed for time on Saturday and had basically dismissed her at the time after Madison had said "I CAN'T sing those high notes," had seen so many children in the last week that she didn't really remember Madison, so she didn't remember how badly she had done the first time).
You might get the impression that I was pushing her to be in the choir, but that isn't the case at all -- the kid loves to sing, and wanted so badly to be in the choir that she worked like heck, all from her own impetus, for the last three weeks. I did want her to get in because it's exactly the kind of musical experience that will focus her, she'll love it, they sing BEAUTIFUL music (when I was a child playing cello in the NJ Region II orchestra, it would move me that I was part of making beautiful music, and that stayed with me forever), and she'll become friends with good kids who are like her. But I really only wanted her to get in because SHE wanted to get in...I certainly didn't push her at all. She didn't have the sense that I wanted her to get in for any reason other than that I wanted to help her get what she wanted.
Part of the reason the director was impressed yesterday, I think, is that Madison was very willing to work there with her to do what the director wanted...she took Madison through various exercises to see her range, to help her envision the various notes, to correct a bit of the pronunciation. There was no fidgeting, no resistance, just focus on the director and willingness to follow the directions. Part of that was that she had gotten used to that from the various lessons she'd had this week. I was just about bursting with pride.
Even Madison could see the difference after the pros helped her out in the last several days. "Mom," she said in the car after the audition, "I couldn't have gotten in if it hadn't been for you helping me practice and getting me the lessons." I was stunned that at 7 she could step back and see that, but of course I downplayed it. "That's my job, to get you the tools you need to do what you want to do," I replied.
I was actually more stressed out than Madison was between Saturday and today, although she of course didn't know it. It's possible that the hives I broke out in on Saturday afternoon were the main manifestation of my internal strife. The night before the audition, I woke up at 4am with the music playing loudly in my head, and couldn't get back to sleep for 2 hours. This morning, even after Madison's success yesterday, I also woke up at 4am with the music playing loudly in my head, and because I couldn't get back to sleep, here I am at the computer at 5:30.
I was so worried that Madison would be devastated if she didn't get in, that this would reinforce her tendency to hedge-the-bet and denigrate herself and predict doom rather than success, to prevent that kind of disappointment in future endeavors. She really would do that, too, she's so passionate about things. I know that if she didn't get in after working so hard, that this in itself would have been a valuable lesson, that sometimes you work hard and it doesn't work out, but I want her to learn THAT lesson a little later in life than 7! Madison takes things too seriously so often, so I had so carefully to harness her drive and use it to motivate her to practice, but also to balance it with the reassurance that if she didn't get in this year, she's really on the young side ("sometimes I do take third graders," the director commented, "but not often."), that there are other choruses she could sing in if she didn't get in.
But it looks very much like she got in. Comments like, "she has a beautiful voice," and "I think this program will be exactly what she needs" and "I'm very suspicious of voice lessons around here because they tend to emphasize chest voice over head voice, and the kids lose the ability to sing in the head voice...she might be better off just in the chorus with no lessons at all" and "we can't let people OFFICIALLY know until after June 4" tell me that the director will let her in.
What a relief.
And, as I've been telling her the last couple of weeks, simply the fact that she has worked SO HARD at this makes me so confident for her in the future, that she'll be able to achieve exactly what she wants to achieve in life. I'm so proud.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Ella's dreaming
Ella woke up from a dream about...baseball. She dreamed that the Rochester Red Wings had hit three home runs, among other more elaborate details of the game.
This delights me, believe it or not, for two reasons. First is that she's dreaming at all, and recounting the dreams in detail. Madison has always had, like me, these elaborate dreams that she loved talking about when she awoke (I used to annoy people with the elaborateness of my dreams and my insistence on talking about them). Ella, though, almost NEVER recounted dreams. I couldn't tell if it meant something about her imagination, or intelligence...or if the fact of the elaborate dreams were linked to MADISON's imagination or intelligence, of which the kid certainly had plenty. Now, almost at about the same time she's gotten engaged and immersed in these fantasy chapter books on CD, she's dreaming like heck.
The other reason I'm happy she's dreaming about baseball in particular is that it must mean something to her. She understands the rules of the game, now, is happy to sit through a 3-hour game with all of us, and she has integrated it enough into her personality for it to emerge in a cool dream. I love baseball. It's another connection that I have with both my girls. How fun.
Just as an update: We've finished the final available book in the Children of the Red King series, #5, Charlie Bone and the Hidden King. The other day, I found a great web site that will be very enjoyable for those who have read this series: Charlie-Bone.com.
This delights me, believe it or not, for two reasons. First is that she's dreaming at all, and recounting the dreams in detail. Madison has always had, like me, these elaborate dreams that she loved talking about when she awoke (I used to annoy people with the elaborateness of my dreams and my insistence on talking about them). Ella, though, almost NEVER recounted dreams. I couldn't tell if it meant something about her imagination, or intelligence...or if the fact of the elaborate dreams were linked to MADISON's imagination or intelligence, of which the kid certainly had plenty. Now, almost at about the same time she's gotten engaged and immersed in these fantasy chapter books on CD, she's dreaming like heck.
The other reason I'm happy she's dreaming about baseball in particular is that it must mean something to her. She understands the rules of the game, now, is happy to sit through a 3-hour game with all of us, and she has integrated it enough into her personality for it to emerge in a cool dream. I love baseball. It's another connection that I have with both my girls. How fun.
Just as an update: We've finished the final available book in the Children of the Red King series, #5, Charlie Bone and the Hidden King. The other day, I found a great web site that will be very enjoyable for those who have read this series: Charlie-Bone.com.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Camporee
Madison has been a Brownie since we moved here, and Ella has just joined, too, although she won't be an "official" Brownie until the next school year starts in September. Madison always wanted to be a Brownie, and loves being a Brownie. Ella likes the meetings even more than Madison.
Yesterday, we went to Camporee, an event that is held every three years, a big gathering of about 300 Girl Scouts from Brownies all the way up through seniors. It was the Camporee event for the "Millwheel" branch of the Girl Scouts of the Genesee Valley, which I think was mostly from Penfield.
Anyway, it's an event for the seniors to design events for the younger ones, under the supervision of the adult directors. David (I think one of only 3 men there, and certainly the only dad) and I were bus monitors, and patrol leaders of the patrol Ella was in. All the kids were nice enough, but it really gave us a sense of perspective about our own kids: No matter how much we think that they're not "snapping-to-it" quickly enough when we ask them to pay attention, they're better than most of the kids. It amazed me how most of them are pretty quick to ignore you, how you have to go to lengths to corral them and get their attention.
Madison and Ella did four activities: A Sports hour, a "dinosaur dig," crafts, and a nature hike. Except for the sports, which was run by the guy who ran the camp, the rest were designed and run by the older kids. You can't go too far wrong with crafts, and they chose to have the girls paint a tote bag. But most of the rest of what we saw there was really hokey, especially the dinosaur dig. Because each activity mostly took less than the full hour, the girls had down time, which was mostly taken with tetherball and informal tag.
The opening and closing ceremonies were mostly nice, around the flagpole, but they took too long because it was hard to get the girls' attention and they let the time be taken up with lengthy announcements and a little bit of silliness.
When I find people who are able to give my kids great experiences that I can't, I get so grateful, sometimes, that I actually get a lump in my throat. But this wasn't like that at all. Although my kids weren't bored, and had a good time, I didn't feel as though they were necessarily in the hands of something great. And, weirdly enough, I found that the whole thing brought up strange emotions that must have had their genesis in my childhood, but I don't remember what. I remember hating Girl Scout camp. Maybe that was it. But I guess the truth is, and I must whisper this: I don't really like the whole Brownie thing. Any of it. This is one activity that I do just because they wanted to. I don't like bringing them to meetings, I don't like doing activities with the other "Brownie moms," I volunteer for my share of stuff because that's what you do when your kids are in Brownies, but I don't really like it. I really don't like it.. Shhhhhh now don't tell.
Yesterday, we went to Camporee, an event that is held every three years, a big gathering of about 300 Girl Scouts from Brownies all the way up through seniors. It was the Camporee event for the "Millwheel" branch of the Girl Scouts of the Genesee Valley, which I think was mostly from Penfield.
Anyway, it's an event for the seniors to design events for the younger ones, under the supervision of the adult directors. David (I think one of only 3 men there, and certainly the only dad) and I were bus monitors, and patrol leaders of the patrol Ella was in. All the kids were nice enough, but it really gave us a sense of perspective about our own kids: No matter how much we think that they're not "snapping-to-it" quickly enough when we ask them to pay attention, they're better than most of the kids. It amazed me how most of them are pretty quick to ignore you, how you have to go to lengths to corral them and get their attention.
Madison and Ella did four activities: A Sports hour, a "dinosaur dig," crafts, and a nature hike. Except for the sports, which was run by the guy who ran the camp, the rest were designed and run by the older kids. You can't go too far wrong with crafts, and they chose to have the girls paint a tote bag. But most of the rest of what we saw there was really hokey, especially the dinosaur dig. Because each activity mostly took less than the full hour, the girls had down time, which was mostly taken with tetherball and informal tag.
The opening and closing ceremonies were mostly nice, around the flagpole, but they took too long because it was hard to get the girls' attention and they let the time be taken up with lengthy announcements and a little bit of silliness.
When I find people who are able to give my kids great experiences that I can't, I get so grateful, sometimes, that I actually get a lump in my throat. But this wasn't like that at all. Although my kids weren't bored, and had a good time, I didn't feel as though they were necessarily in the hands of something great. And, weirdly enough, I found that the whole thing brought up strange emotions that must have had their genesis in my childhood, but I don't remember what. I remember hating Girl Scout camp. Maybe that was it. But I guess the truth is, and I must whisper this: I don't really like the whole Brownie thing. Any of it. This is one activity that I do just because they wanted to. I don't like bringing them to meetings, I don't like doing activities with the other "Brownie moms," I volunteer for my share of stuff because that's what you do when your kids are in Brownies, but I don't really like it. I really don't like it.. Shhhhhh now don't tell.
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Children of the Red King
We, meaning the whole family, are absolutely enthralled with listening to the Charlie Bone series of books on tape. This is Jenny Nimmo's Children of the Red King series. We're midway through book #4 (Charlie Bone and the Castle of Mirrors) of five existing books, and a sixth book is coming out next month. Simon Russell Beale reads these books on CD, and he is fabulous, so fabulous that for me and the girls, listening to these CDs beats reading them ourselves. Charlie Bone is really similar to Harry Potter in many respects, in that it's about children with magical powers at a boarding school in England. But Nimmo is a better writer than Rowling, quite a bit darker, with fewer monsters with scales and more monsters in the shape of evil relatives.
Adrienne, make SURE to order the sixth book as soon as it comes out on CD! I hope they're working on it even as we speak. Do you have magical ways of finding out if it's in production?
Adrienne, make SURE to order the sixth book as soon as it comes out on CD! I hope they're working on it even as we speak. Do you have magical ways of finding out if it's in production?
Cruel Mommy
Ella is in an anti-reading phase lately. She's been reading the Boxcar Children #1, she reads one page with help, and either I or Madison read two pages, then she reads another page, etc. And lately, she's been just bursting into tears instead of focusing and reading the words she knows. It's a ploy, is the thing. She can read the stuff. But she's decided that she doesn't want to, because it's hard. But I'm making her. I'm not unsympathetic, but not particularly sympathetic either because she's just stalling to see if I'll reduce the amount to be read. I put my arm around her, and snuggle her in, and tell her that the extra time she's taking here is time she's taking away from playing later.
The loose unschooler types would castigate me for making a child do something she's not ready to do, that her crying means she's not ready. They'd tell me that it's going to make her against reading for life, that it's not going to be something she wants to do for pleasure as a result of my pressure.
I snort. Her crying means she's a good actress. She'll be fine.
But it's no fun.
To be a bit more serious about it, I have to keep submerging my own desire for her to read exactly on Madison's same timetable. I just want her to have the same kind of pleasure Madison had, as early as Madison has had it.
Also, even though Ella doesn't watch that much TV, it would be nice if she substituted some reading for the TV she does see. Madison watches almost no TV, just isn't interested.
The loose unschooler types would castigate me for making a child do something she's not ready to do, that her crying means she's not ready. They'd tell me that it's going to make her against reading for life, that it's not going to be something she wants to do for pleasure as a result of my pressure.
I snort. Her crying means she's a good actress. She'll be fine.
But it's no fun.
To be a bit more serious about it, I have to keep submerging my own desire for her to read exactly on Madison's same timetable. I just want her to have the same kind of pleasure Madison had, as early as Madison has had it.
Also, even though Ella doesn't watch that much TV, it would be nice if she substituted some reading for the TV she does see. Madison watches almost no TV, just isn't interested.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Necessary
Looking at the page, at the actual sentence to be read, is rather necessary for the reading process. Looking around the room tends to slow you down.
Why this escapes children, I have no idea.
Why this escapes children, I have no idea.
Friday, May 04, 2007
Capitalism...We teach it!
The lemonade stand was the biggest hit EVER. Madison and Ella basically ran the whole show, with minimal help from me and even more minimal help from the lovely RIT Math Club reps.
It was a beautiful day, 66 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. I hadn't anticipated Ella being so able to help, but she filled up lemonade cups for three hours and added precisely four extra drops of "secret formula" (lemon juice from one of those little yellow squeezy plastic lemons) to each cup. They sold about 7 gallons of lemonade...I had to run in to the math department building to make additional lemonade three times. Good thing I also brought along a smaller extra keg.
In addition to the new "lemonade-yellow" outfit we got her at Target for the occasion, Madison also wore a "Madison Ross Class of 2021" name tag. That got a lot of notice. We did a lot of practicing of "When someone hands you money for a product you ALWAYS say 'Thank you' enthusiastically right then." Madison also decided to add "And have a nice day!" when people left.
The stand made $49.00 profit overall, after subtracting the $7.50 in supplies, which Madison fronted with her own money. You might think that translates into exactly 113 cups sold, but it doesn't...I am not sure how many people said "Keep the change!" but it was at least 15 people.
That's Madison calculating the profit, above. 60% of it ($29.40) went to the RIT Math Club, which left $19.60 for my kids. In turn, Madison split THAT 60-40 (ah, percentages! lots of math was done at this table!) leaving her with $11.64 and Ella with $7.76. "That's almost $4 per hour!" Madison said. "At this rate, I could be rich!"
Here is Madison with Kate, the Math Club rep (and Ella is blowing bubbles in the background):
The Math Club kids tried to ask me to let the girls take all of the profits ("We didn't do anything but sit here some of the time on a nice day!") but both I and David felt strongly that they should have the greater percentage, and Madison agreed with our reasoning. In the car on the way home, Madison and I had a discussion about Public Relations and why it's often more enticing for people to buy products as part of a fundraiser than just from their own needs, which in this case would be thirst (and, as Madison reminded me, because they would want to support cute little kids in their own business).
We also had a discussion of risk, in the context of why Madison should have the greater percentage of profit even though Ella worked for the same amount of time that she did. But as I pointed out, Madison assumed the risk for the endeavor...she fronted the money for the supplies, and if no one had bought lemonade, she'd be out the $7.50. So she deserves a higher percentage. (Right, Steve?)
"What are you going to buy with the money you're making?" the kids from the Math Club asked Madison. "Oh, I'm going to save it," she replied breezily. They were impressed. Turns out she's saving up for...a TV set for her room. HMMMMMM.
Anyway, they LOVED doing this. They would do it every week if they could. We're almost certainly going to do it in September. Big plans were discussed in the car on the way home. What if we sold both fresh-squeezed lemonade AND from a mix, so people could choose? Could we charge more? We'd have to charge more. Do you think people would pay $1 for the fresh-squeezed? Do you think we'd sell more of fresh-squeezed? Do you think we'd make a bigger profit with fresh-squeezed? How much are lemons at BJ's? Maybe we could sell cookies, too.
The only down side of the whole endeavor? When we got home, somehow Ella locked our new cash box with her fingernail, and we can't get it open. So it's sitting there with the girls' money in it, enticingly, on the kitchen table. The keys are locked inside.
It was a beautiful day, 66 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. I hadn't anticipated Ella being so able to help, but she filled up lemonade cups for three hours and added precisely four extra drops of "secret formula" (lemon juice from one of those little yellow squeezy plastic lemons) to each cup. They sold about 7 gallons of lemonade...I had to run in to the math department building to make additional lemonade three times. Good thing I also brought along a smaller extra keg.
In addition to the new "lemonade-yellow" outfit we got her at Target for the occasion, Madison also wore a "Madison Ross Class of 2021" name tag. That got a lot of notice. We did a lot of practicing of "When someone hands you money for a product you ALWAYS say 'Thank you' enthusiastically right then." Madison also decided to add "And have a nice day!" when people left.
The stand made $49.00 profit overall, after subtracting the $7.50 in supplies, which Madison fronted with her own money. You might think that translates into exactly 113 cups sold, but it doesn't...I am not sure how many people said "Keep the change!" but it was at least 15 people.
That's Madison calculating the profit, above. 60% of it ($29.40) went to the RIT Math Club, which left $19.60 for my kids. In turn, Madison split THAT 60-40 (ah, percentages! lots of math was done at this table!) leaving her with $11.64 and Ella with $7.76. "That's almost $4 per hour!" Madison said. "At this rate, I could be rich!"
Here is Madison with Kate, the Math Club rep (and Ella is blowing bubbles in the background):
The Math Club kids tried to ask me to let the girls take all of the profits ("We didn't do anything but sit here some of the time on a nice day!") but both I and David felt strongly that they should have the greater percentage, and Madison agreed with our reasoning. In the car on the way home, Madison and I had a discussion about Public Relations and why it's often more enticing for people to buy products as part of a fundraiser than just from their own needs, which in this case would be thirst (and, as Madison reminded me, because they would want to support cute little kids in their own business).
We also had a discussion of risk, in the context of why Madison should have the greater percentage of profit even though Ella worked for the same amount of time that she did. But as I pointed out, Madison assumed the risk for the endeavor...she fronted the money for the supplies, and if no one had bought lemonade, she'd be out the $7.50. So she deserves a higher percentage. (Right, Steve?)
"What are you going to buy with the money you're making?" the kids from the Math Club asked Madison. "Oh, I'm going to save it," she replied breezily. They were impressed. Turns out she's saving up for...a TV set for her room. HMMMMMM.
Anyway, they LOVED doing this. They would do it every week if they could. We're almost certainly going to do it in September. Big plans were discussed in the car on the way home. What if we sold both fresh-squeezed lemonade AND from a mix, so people could choose? Could we charge more? We'd have to charge more. Do you think people would pay $1 for the fresh-squeezed? Do you think we'd sell more of fresh-squeezed? Do you think we'd make a bigger profit with fresh-squeezed? How much are lemons at BJ's? Maybe we could sell cookies, too.
The only down side of the whole endeavor? When we got home, somehow Ella locked our new cash box with her fingernail, and we can't get it open. So it's sitting there with the girls' money in it, enticingly, on the kitchen table. The keys are locked inside.
Bist du bie mir
Madison is in the audition process for the Bach Children's Chorus, a fantastic classical music singing group here in Rochester.
Right now, she is practicing a hard German song that she has to memorize as part of an audition for the Bach Children's Chorus, which is a very professional difficult children's chorus composed of kids from 8-17. She has to memorize two songs, one a German song called Bist Du Bie Mir, and the other something in English from Handel.
She practices for 3 weeks, she makes an appointment for an individual "checkup," then practices for another week and then auditions. It totally moves me how hard she's working at this. SHE wants to do it, I'm not pushing her at all. Fortunately, she can do it as part of "school." If she gets in, one of the benefits will be that she will be able to sing the beautiful music I did as a member of a chorus. That was a really fulfilling part of school for me, and I had feared they would miss out.
We don't know if she will make it, she'll only be 8 in September and it's not like she has professional voice lessons or anything. But they say that they usually take kids that prove they can work hard and make it through the audition process. Rehearsals are every Saturday morning for 2 hours starting in September. She can always try again next year if she doesn't make it this year. They sing stuff in Latin, German, Russian, Spanish, French, etc. They travel each year, they sing with the Rochester Philharmonic, and always do the Nutcracker and Handel's Messiah at Christmas. This will be very good for her, a good way for her to make good friends who also love music. It will be nice if she has this while Ella has her dancing -- Madison is definitely not a dancer.
I'm kind of glad Bist du bie mir is in German. Because here are the words in English:
(If) you are with me
I go with joy
to death and peace.
Oh, how pleasurable
would be my end!
Your beautiful hands press
my faithful eyes close.
Right now, she is practicing a hard German song that she has to memorize as part of an audition for the Bach Children's Chorus, which is a very professional difficult children's chorus composed of kids from 8-17. She has to memorize two songs, one a German song called Bist Du Bie Mir, and the other something in English from Handel.
She practices for 3 weeks, she makes an appointment for an individual "checkup," then practices for another week and then auditions. It totally moves me how hard she's working at this. SHE wants to do it, I'm not pushing her at all. Fortunately, she can do it as part of "school." If she gets in, one of the benefits will be that she will be able to sing the beautiful music I did as a member of a chorus. That was a really fulfilling part of school for me, and I had feared they would miss out.
We don't know if she will make it, she'll only be 8 in September and it's not like she has professional voice lessons or anything. But they say that they usually take kids that prove they can work hard and make it through the audition process. Rehearsals are every Saturday morning for 2 hours starting in September. She can always try again next year if she doesn't make it this year. They sing stuff in Latin, German, Russian, Spanish, French, etc. They travel each year, they sing with the Rochester Philharmonic, and always do the Nutcracker and Handel's Messiah at Christmas. This will be very good for her, a good way for her to make good friends who also love music. It will be nice if she has this while Ella has her dancing -- Madison is definitely not a dancer.
I'm kind of glad Bist du bie mir is in German. Because here are the words in English:
(If) you are with me
I go with joy
to death and peace.
Oh, how pleasurable
would be my end!
Your beautiful hands press
my faithful eyes close.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Don't you hate it when THIS happens...
SOMETHING is going on, 10:30-11:30 on Friday. I know this, because I wrote it on a scrap of paper, a statement from Morgan Stanley, TODAY. I wrote it sometime today. "I know I'll remember this," I said to myself. But I think I'll write it HERE, on this paper right next to me, so I can be sure to remember.
10:30-11:30 Friday, I wrote.
I have no blessed idea what this could be. Really, no idea. Whatever it is, it conflicts with what we're doing Friday morning, which is Madison is finally going to have her lemonade stand. She proposed to the RIT Math Club that she have a lemonade stand as a fundraiser for them, as a way to get on campus with plenty of customers. (You can't just plunk yourself down on the main walk and have a lemonade stand, even if you're cute and 7 and the daughter of a professor.) She's going to have the stand from 11:30-2:30, at some picnic that the club is hosting.
We got our sign materials from the Dollar Store today. Have to get a cash box and a keg. Photos forthcoming after the Big Sale!
What the heck could be happening from 10:30-11:30 on a FRIDAY morning?
Update: Turns out this is referring to a call I'm supposed to have with a client on MONDAY morning. Why I'd written Friday I've no idea.
10:30-11:30 Friday, I wrote.
I have no blessed idea what this could be. Really, no idea. Whatever it is, it conflicts with what we're doing Friday morning, which is Madison is finally going to have her lemonade stand. She proposed to the RIT Math Club that she have a lemonade stand as a fundraiser for them, as a way to get on campus with plenty of customers. (You can't just plunk yourself down on the main walk and have a lemonade stand, even if you're cute and 7 and the daughter of a professor.) She's going to have the stand from 11:30-2:30, at some picnic that the club is hosting.
We got our sign materials from the Dollar Store today. Have to get a cash box and a keg. Photos forthcoming after the Big Sale!
What the heck could be happening from 10:30-11:30 on a FRIDAY morning?
Update: Turns out this is referring to a call I'm supposed to have with a client on MONDAY morning. Why I'd written Friday I've no idea.
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