Pasta�mmm�cauliflower�mmm�

The state of transient transcendence I wrote about yesterday lasted for perhaps a year of my life. After that I reverted to my teeth-clenching, anxiety-ridden, business-as-usual existence. While I try to present myself here as a person with unassailable equilibrium, the truth is that I tend to be bipolar without actually having a diagnosable neurosis. I am quick to get angry, quick to cool off, and while I don�t tend to dwell on that which doesn�t affect me directly, the things that do impinge on my life can make me very stressed out.

Case in point: This evening guests arrived, a violin/clarinet/piano trio who are artists in residence for the next several days. They will conduct masterclasses, private lessons, perform a public recital on Friday night (unfortunately it means we miss our son�s debut in his school�s battle of the bands) and another recital with the students on Sunday afternoon. They are staying with us, including the 8-year-old son of the pianist and violinist. I have never been so relieved to have a cleaning lady as at a time like this. However, I am anticipating being a slave in the kitchen for the next several days

I made dinner for them, pasta al cavolfiore from the M00sew00d C00kb00k, which was delicious as always, and the son ate next to nothing. I�m expecting him to be hungry later. Buddy Boy impressed him royally with his electric guitar, and left him to play it himself, whereupon he pulled too hard on the connecting cable and knocked the amplifier over. So now he is set up watching television. Hubby arranged with one of the students to look after the provision of supervision for this child while his parents are busy working. I sincerely hope that this has been done, and that I don�t get stuck babysitting.

Pat was not in Latin this morning, so the six students present finished translating the Narcissus story ourselves. I am on the verge of despairing that my annoying student will ever learn how to sing. At one point she sang three notes, all C�s on the treble staff, and they were absolutely gorgeous. I asked her what she did and could she reproduce it, but it was not to be. It�s moments like that that make me wonder if she is not a lost case, and then the moments following that convince me that she is. Alas. The student that follows her always redeems me as a teacher, however. She had an excellent lesson and is starting to make actual music. Hurrah!

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