purim and blood

Somehow life has gotten to busy even to write much on the blog. I’d like to say it’s because I’ve been getting so much scholarship done that I can’t be bothered with the trivial business of the every day. Progress is being made in that sort of slow tick tock kind of way. And with the use of two computers, three monitors, and a giant video magnifier I finally managed to sort through some Vatican xeroxes all for two nice but very short quotations about a Zingaresca stealing balls (as in the kind Castrati don’t have) And in the quest to remake myself as a TJ expert I have now fully mastered American periodization schemes and know all about the Jacobian revolt. I can also under pressure explain the difference between reformation, reconstruction, and restoration only one of which has concerned me up until now. And in music 101 Mozart and Beethoven have both been taught even with a keyboard that can not play an in tune triad and as it turns out has 63 not 66 keys—3 A flats are missing.

On Monday I got a bit of good news and my extremely supportive husband took this as an excuse to open a delicious bottle of prosecco we’d had in the fridge for a while. Sipping prosecco while watching olympics with the kids sounds good until you end up in a fight with your three year old over it. “I need my pwosecco” And then I found myself embroiled in an “it’s mine” battle which I handled with dictatorial efficiency by taking my prosecco glass running up the stairs and leaving said husband with screaming baby. What kind of a three year old steals his mother’s prosecco? He’s also a kid who demanded that Manuel “stop the car so I can pick my nose a little bit” and got himself mentioned on a local blog for his appearance at the Chinese new year celebration in a power ranger suit with red cowboy boots and a pharaoh hat. He trotted out most of the costume for the preschool purim celebration so I guess it is truly multicultural.

Speaking of Purim, last year we made Hammantaschen with Tali and Benny so the kids decided that this is a tradition of biblical portions and that we always do this on the weds before purim. They informed me of this weds morning. Since I usually meet the bus on weds this didn’t seem like a big problem though I did have to rush home to make dough wondering along the way why every Jewish holiday seems to be another nail in the coffin of my book but whatever….The real excitement involved Joanthan and his buddy Iian doing a sort of dance/battles on the way home and Jonathan somehow falling head first on the concrete such that his entire head was covered in blood. He started screaming, Iian was shocked and upset pointed out that it was not poor Iian's fault but that if they continued to sort of shimmy battle on ice someone would fall. Jonathan was his usual charm bucket in the fate of medical trauma and by the time we entered the house I got the usual "woman get your hands off of me" "I am covered with blood like a sacrificial lamb.” Rebecca meanwhile had started screaming as well and announcing "if anything happens to that boy i just don’t' know what I'll do. followed by a rather gleeful ":i don't think he has a concussion like I did" There was for the record no serious injury just a lot of blood, a scrape, a bruise and a wounded ego. So while Jonathan sulked on the couch the other four kids made hamantaschen which involved lots of lour and gooey jam. Somewhere in the middle of this Eli started making his own hamantaschen and took some dough, water, flour and chocolate chips over to his kitchen rolled them out got a knife and cooked them in his oven--yes the knife was a giant kitchen knife and we are still finding bits of dough all over the place. When he was done with that he apparently found the van keys. This we only worked out when Manuel and kids were rushing out the door to drop me at yoga. The evening concluded with the writing of the music 101 exam a week early because one of my students is representing Guatemala in the Davis cup.