Welcome home Buddy Boy!
7:04 a.m.
Two of my students had their juries yesterday, the biology student who has been a pleasure to teach and probably will not be taking lessons anymore with me, which is sad, and my annoying clarinet player who didn�t totally suck in her performance and who got me worried with the following conversation:
She: Do you think I should take singing lessons next year?
I: Well, that is totally up to you, but you realize that you�ll be preparing for a full recital next year on clarinet and the biggest problem you had this year was finding time to practise singing.
She: Yes, but I�d like to take something that I don�t totally suck at.
I: (Thinking to myself: You totally suck at this, dearie) If you�re going to go to the effort and expense of taking lessons, you really have to practise daily, and I�m afraid if you couldn�t find the time this year, you�ll find it even more difficult next. However, it is your decision.
She: Well, I�ll think about it.
Good lord, I hope she doesn�t sign up for lessons again. I am too nice a person to turn her down outright, and she has no reason not to come back to me (not like the �sexual harrassment� business with the other teacher), but I put so much into teaching her, she who has proven almost totally unteachable, that I can�t bear the idea of doing this for another year.
After juries were done for the day, Hubby and I drove into Montreal to pick Buddy Boy up from the airport. Their plane was late (I was so anxious to see my little boy, I was fairly hopping up and down like a kangaroo), and then they started trickling out of the arrivals door about half an hour to 45 minutes later, and finally I had my arms around my little boy. He was wearing a very nice leather jacket he bought in Florence which you can view here (he�s the amazingly cool-looking kid in the sunglasses on the far right, standing in the first row). It was so nice to see him. I�m such a mom.
Then we had an adventure trying to find an Indian restaurant so that my husband could fulfill a fellow tennis player�s request to buy some carrot sweets and samosas (it would have been okay if there hadn�t been this crazy lady in the passenger seat screaming, �We�re lost!�) somewhere off the Decarie Expressway in Montreal (I do not know that city at all), then a quick stop at McDonald�s so Buddy Boy could get some sustenance, and finally we arrived home around 11:30.
Little Princess was out, her band having played the opening set at a bar in Sh�brooke (she�s fast asleep in her wee bed now; I have no idea when she came in) and I read about two pages in my book and then promptly fell asleep. Buddy Boy�s internal clock is still six hours ahead, so he�s playing computer games on the iMac and I�m taking advantage of his school computer and I have a load of darks in the washing machine. I�ll try to get another hour of sleep or so.
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