banjoplayinnerd: (Default)
So apparently the wife and daughter went to the thrift store, again, yesterday. Maybe they're serious about this Norwescon costume thing. Anyway, they came back with a couple of complete finds.

First up: A bunch of what look like Sunday School attendance medallions. Red and blue crosses on white shield pins, that sort of thing. She thought that if they ever get around to making me a Browncoat chaplain's outfit some of them might make excellent insignia. Of course my idea of being a Browncoat military shepherd is to have collar insignia that display the Taoist yin and yang, or monads one day and Flying Spaghetti Monsters the next, but hey, there probably aren't that many Browncoat shepherds and they might have to be flexible, you know?

The next treasure she found was a little wooden toolbox kit. It's open topped, has a wood handle and needs to be assembled, sanded and stained, but it's perfect for Igor the Younger. He fancies himself quite the robot repairman, and if he has a toolbox I'm sure we can find a few tools to populate it with to keep the helping hands robot in good working order.

But the big find of the day was a $2 percussion kit consisting of several shakers, cymbals, pseudo-tambourines, a ladybug with xylophone-style sounders built into her wings, and a couple other rhythm instruments packed into a drum that fits easily around the neck. Daughter dear went to great lengths to explain that these are only for special occasions and they weren't to just run around banging on the drum anytime they felt like it.

All five of my grandkids have musical talent. Could be six, but with the three-month-old it's kinda hard to tell. I am excited to see them develop their talents a little bit. All three of my children took music in school and unfortunately none of them stuck with it. The closest was my daughter, who would dearly love to still be playing the upright bass but they're a bit expensive.

And to top all this off, last night we got to go see my oldest granddaughter perform in a choir concert. She has a very nice alto voice and is putting it to good use. The choral program at her high school is excellent, and the school's jazz choir took top honors at a recent Pacific Northwest competition. (She isn't in the jazz choir, I'm just letting you know how good the program is.) A very nice mix of songs and arrangements, from Gregorian chants to the Beatles' "Blackbird."
banjoplayinnerd: (Default)
Yesterday, as is often the case, I was tired when I got home from work. I couldn't just go take a nap, though. It was my granddaughter's birthday. She's 15 now. I still remember when she came home from the hospital. She was a cutie. (Still is, but in a different way. And a bit of a challenge, just like every other teenager.)

She is getting a corset for her birthday present, whenever they get around to delivering it.

So we had a houseful of kids for the party, from her (15) and the next oldest (10) down to about 3. There were PRESENTS! and CAKE! and ICE CREAM!! and LASAGNA FOR DINNER!! and they were all wound up and bouncing around like an Energizer Bunny made of Flubber.

I'm afraid I weenied out and hid in the bedroom. My excuse was that I have a bunch of ham radio nets I check into on Mondays (which is 100% true). There's still occasional static from the radio, but at the time I could deal with that a lot easier than I could a bunch of hyper children.

Maybe I should be happy we didn't have to put on a quincaƱera. I hear those are mighty expensive when you do the full experience. And I probably wouldn't have gotten to go hide in the bedroom and play radio.

At about 10 we put Igor the Younger to bed. He protested loudly that he wasn't tired for about four minutes before the protestations suddenly ended. Then at 4 he was up again, torturing his grandma, and by the time I got ready to leave for work at 7 he was running around distributing cards to everyone and proclaiming "Happy Valtimes!" Including my sleeping wife. He loves holidays of any kind.


Doctor's appointment this afternoon, then I need to decide on something to go do with my wife for Valtimes. I wonder if our favorite restaurant will have room for us. It's not a big swanky go-out-on-a-romantic-date-and-pay-a-hundred-bucks type of place, so they just might.

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