Jasmine got out last night, and I was quite scared I was going to lose her as she scooted further and further away from me. I did manage to pick her up when she went to explore the neighbor’s porch. I had to keep a very tight hold of her ruff while carrying her back, because she emphatically did not want to be brought back inside. So last night Ted and I bought a couple of GPS tracker units for the cats. As the twins get older and more capable, the chances that the cats will be accidentally let out increase exponentially. The two days we spent wondering whether Satchmo was alive or dead the time he wandered away were extremely trying. Hearing Hazel calling for him, over and over, in her sad little person voice broke my heart. Hence the trackers. They aren’t a magic bullet: they won’t prevent the cats from getting lost or hurt if they get outside (or if we decide to start letting them outside). But they will give us a much greater chance of finding them if they don’t come home, and of helping them if they’re in trouble.
Today we tackled piles of clothing which have been hanging around in one form or another (Ted and I have for years been adept at migrating and modifying our piles, less so at actually disposing of them or stowing them in their proper accommodations) for weeks, months, or years. We have a small “closet” in our knee wall which has been a place where it’s all too easy to just shove stuff, given its inconvenience in terms of shape and height (or lack thereof). It is now the repository of organized and easy-to-access children’s clothes of sizes into which they will grow, as well as our spare blankets and pillows. There is not an unwanted or never-gonna-happen clothing item in sight. And, as a further side benefit, both Ted and I found clothes in our piles that were too small, but which fit us now that we’ve been on a (mostly) Paleo diet for a while, and so without going to the store we have broadened our options.
Our kitchen art corner is now complete, with the kids’ white board and chalk board mounted on the wall. And on top of everything else, Ted leveled the stove! Keeping things evenly browned/sautéed/fried/cooked on the stove top will now be duck soup, so to speak.
One of my students has, this year, experienced and apprehended the clear contrast between what happens when he practices and what happens when he doesn’t. He’s seen the evidence in his personal life of the difference between talent and effort. Last week, at my suggestion, he put a note on his computer reminding him to practice right after he comes home. He’d made significant strides in the consistency of his practicing already, but this last week the result was staggeringly obvious in today’s lesson. His pleasure and pride in his accomplishment warms my heart. And his playing has developed to the point that his musicality is coming through, and I can easily make an emotional connection to what he’s presenting. His mom has noticed too. This is a moment to appreciate and acknowledge, to mark the positive for everyone involved. It makes me happy.
When I walked into the kids’ room tonight, I was greeted by a chorus of “Mommy! Mommy!” from Hazel and Emily simultaneously. Joanna grabbed a book and waved it at me with a smile lighting her face. I love my darlings, and my darlings love me. I am grateful.