I entered this snowpocalypse needing an attitude adjustment. The kids have not had a full week of school since new years and the consequences of this involves wrestless children and in my case extreme anciness about lack of scholarship time. So I did the logical thing which was stop at the liquor store with a detailed list compiled by Manuel and Staley our babysitter. They sent me the list as text messages which involved me in the liquor store on Main Street squinting at the texts trying to find the appropriate bottles of booze. Although I have a phone marketed for senior citizens with bad eyes it’s not quite big enough for details. Consequently I got myself carded which of course made my month. I looked at the guy and laughed until I realized I actually don’t have ID. Mine bit the dust during my Miami strip search. So after digging around in my back pack while some already drunk old men waited behind me I located my passport and headed walking home with a giant bag of booze. Our first night was rough with all five of us at each others throats. Ww had a friend over for dinner and scared her away before desert when the boys started fighting miserably over play mobiles and Manuel and I started making all kinds of useless threats. On the plus side I managed to fix the TV remote which no one else could do including the 30 year old husband of our babysitter—the demographic that knows how to fix technology. I did this by actually calling the help line and running up and downstairs between various receivers. But I can tell you that the entire neighborhood should be relieved that we have a working large TV. Not only can we watch the superbowl tomorrow but we were able to experience a family viewing of the very delicious Star Wars Clone Wars cartoon. (Rebecca rejected this half way through and went upstairs to watch project runway)
Yesterday got off to a good start when I came down to find Manuel holding a rolling pin and making cinnamon rolls. I think most mothers of small children would agree that there’s not much sexier than a husband with a rolling pin and a cleaning project. We decided to spend some of this shut in time on massive house cleaning. Our house still suffers the extreme disorder of having moved in January of 2007 when Eli was four weeks old, I was starting to teach a week later, and Manuel was commuting to a job out of town three days a week. Needless to say despite the help of many friends and family members we’ve never quite gotten the situation under control. Manuel did a great job on the family room and the 8000 vehicles we seem to own. The most satisfying part of the clean up for me involved SIX GARBARAGE bags from Rebecca’s “art center” It’s true that one of the consequences involved a full blow up from her later as she discovered some of the historic masterworks that had bee sent to the other world. Lest anyone think I don’t encourage my daughters talents, I’m not talking here about any of her gorgous paintings I’m talking about things liked an egg carton with a dot on it, or a ziplock bag full of packing peanuts and toothpicks entitled “mixed media”
Our prodigal babysitter who was gone for much of the previous snopocalypse also has returned which gave us some work time so Manuel and I hiked to the one local coffee shop that was open and met a friend and two of my students whom I had to meet with. They are my conference committee for the upcoming TJ and music conference this spring They are also I believe the worlds leading experts on Thomas Jefferson and Music at this point with even a publication under their belts. Please check out the fine new appendix to the Jefferson and Music Monograph recently released by Monticello Press. But we had business to discuss including drawing up a schedule and thinking about the food options. I’m a believer in conferences with breathing room and eating time. I think TJ would actually like the idea of a couple of music grad students, a music professor, a French professor and an environmental science professor sitting around a coffee shop table doing work in a blizzare. I incidentally actually did some scholarship which was a miracle. Though I do at times wonder how it is that a feminist scholar of early music and Tori Amos finds herself so immersed in such a patriarchal figure but whatever……
So today is another day. I was jolted awake by one of our occasional flowers in the attack moments when Rebecca bounded on top of Jonathan who had already crawled into our bed. Jonathan announced unceremoniously “hey shouldn’t this go the other way…..” I can only hope this did not mean what it sounded like to their shocked and appalled parents. I’m off for a morning ski!