Early in the morning before the sun has arisen we are awakened by the sound of a cat crying for its breakfast. This is a normal event because, as in all houses with small mammals of the feline variety, the whims of the cat determine the schedule of the house.
Her control of our schedule is most glaringly obvious when, for some reason, she does not adhere to it, and we wake in our beds with the most discomfited feeling, listening for a sound that is not forthcoming, aware that Something Is Not Right. And we begin to worry.
The cat is old. She sometimes does not feel well. For two days, she has been out of sorts. Our concern is such that we immediately notify the veterinarian (via the Cat Hot-Line installed by her cat post) and arrange an appointment, a "check-up", if you will.
For no house can survive for long with a cat out of sorts.
::
Deborah does not like getting up early, and she does it only with the understanding that no effort will be expended towards fashion on her way out the door. Her door opens at ten minutes prior to departure, and her apparel, while pleasing (mostly) to the eye, is intended for practicality rather than for purposes of eliciting compliments.
On the evening prior to her departure for Disney, she arranged all of her luggage downstairs by the front door so that it could be carried to the car with a minimum of time and effort. One rolling bag, one back-pack, one pillow, one blanket. When the time came to leave, her normal grumpy attitude was replaced with one of steadily increasing excitement. By the time we arrived at the school and made our way through the crowded hallways crammed with eager young band students to the back area where her luggage was to be temporarily stored, she was practically giggling with joy. Her friends, comrades in tribulations of both academic and musical, were gathered in little enclaves to discuss the forthcoming trip and the anticipation of each and every exhilarating moment.
The chaparones were walking around trying to organize themselves - or to find someone who was supposed to be organizing them all - so that they could carry out their duties with some authority (wherein it is greatly helpful to know something about what is going on before attempting to lead others in doing something about it). The other parents, like myself, who had volunteered to assist in loading the buses so that the children and the chaparones could focus on more important matters (like loading themselves onto the buses) stood resolute, ready to do anything to get our children started on their journey on the road to Disney.
It was bitterly cold. When it was time to leave, the children were directed to load the buses as quickly as possible (especially owing to the fact that many of them were still wearing their pajamas in anticipation of sleeping during the early part of the trip). We baggage loaders used our puzzle-solving skills to stack the luggage underneath the buses in the open compartments to maximize efficiency; we also packed all the instruments that were going to be needed for the performances. It was a hurried, frenzied affair. And, naturally, there were last-minute deliveries that had to be stuffed into whatever open space might be found.
But we did it. Everyone - and everything - was stowed away, ready for the journey.
And then the bus doors closed, the engines roared, and they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road on their way to Florida. Warm, sunny, non-freezing Florida.
And Disney.
::
For those of us who remained, we had a pleasant evening attending the Student Art Show downtown at the Grand Rapids Art Museum (GRAM) where Mary's work was to be displayed. We arrived to find the Museum already crowded with patrons. Apparently, ours was not the only show in town! (It must be noted that Admission is free on Thursday nights, which might also explain the crowded conditions.)
We walked downstairs to the gallery where the students' works were displayed. It was crowded there, too, but much of that was due to the fact that it was a very small room, and much space was taken up by the table of cookies and punch. A bit too much, if you ask me. It was almost as though they had given no thought to the fact that if the parents of half the students showed up at the same time to view their darlings' work, there would not be sufficient room for anyone to stand, let alone observe a work of art.
Nevertheless, we moved around as best we could, looking at some of the pieces hanging on the wall and reading the notes on each one, biding our time until all those other yahoos could clear a path so that we could get to the main attraction, which was Mary's piece. I don't know why they were even bothering to look at any other work. Hers was obviously superior to anything else that was presented.
Or at least that's the way I looked at it.
We weren't able to stay very long; the crowd was just too pressing. Naturally, at the moment we were attempting to leave, Mary's art teacher arrived and persuaded her to return to her work so that she could be photographed with it. Alas, we had already taken enough pictures so the majority of us left the three of them (Adam bravely decided to remain with his sister) to fight the current and make their way back to the display wall whilst we dashed upstairs to get some more breathing room.
Mary and Adam eventually returned and it might have been our decision to hurry at once to the restaurant to eat had we been any less than true patrons of the Arts, but we chose instead to spend a happy hour or so wandering through the exhibit rooms enjoying the fine pieces which had been laid out for our inspection. Fabrics, pottery, watercolors (my favorite), clay masks, oils - all so very pleasing, all so relaxing. I could've wandered there for days had there been more to see.
But our appetites would not be quenched. We walked across the street to one of our favorite little haunts, the Angel Thai restaurant, and proceeded to enjoy a marvelous buffet dinner of savory soups, choice noodles, rice, and assorted meats, served with a bracing pot of hot jasmine tea.
Mischievious as we were, we sent a picture of our delicious repast to Deb, who was apparently lying in the middle of the bus aisle in a self-made "nest" eating snacks provided by her friends and looking forward to a long night with very little sleep. She thanked us kindly for our thoughtfulness and then reminded us that she was going to be playing at Disney. Nyah! So we had our just reward.
Then we proceeded at length to depart the restaurant and head home. It had been a long and fruitful day.
Her control of our schedule is most glaringly obvious when, for some reason, she does not adhere to it, and we wake in our beds with the most discomfited feeling, listening for a sound that is not forthcoming, aware that Something Is Not Right. And we begin to worry.
The cat is old. She sometimes does not feel well. For two days, she has been out of sorts. Our concern is such that we immediately notify the veterinarian (via the Cat Hot-Line installed by her cat post) and arrange an appointment, a "check-up", if you will.
For no house can survive for long with a cat out of sorts.
::
Deborah does not like getting up early, and she does it only with the understanding that no effort will be expended towards fashion on her way out the door. Her door opens at ten minutes prior to departure, and her apparel, while pleasing (mostly) to the eye, is intended for practicality rather than for purposes of eliciting compliments.
On the evening prior to her departure for Disney, she arranged all of her luggage downstairs by the front door so that it could be carried to the car with a minimum of time and effort. One rolling bag, one back-pack, one pillow, one blanket. When the time came to leave, her normal grumpy attitude was replaced with one of steadily increasing excitement. By the time we arrived at the school and made our way through the crowded hallways crammed with eager young band students to the back area where her luggage was to be temporarily stored, she was practically giggling with joy. Her friends, comrades in tribulations of both academic and musical, were gathered in little enclaves to discuss the forthcoming trip and the anticipation of each and every exhilarating moment.
The chaparones were walking around trying to organize themselves - or to find someone who was supposed to be organizing them all - so that they could carry out their duties with some authority (wherein it is greatly helpful to know something about what is going on before attempting to lead others in doing something about it). The other parents, like myself, who had volunteered to assist in loading the buses so that the children and the chaparones could focus on more important matters (like loading themselves onto the buses) stood resolute, ready to do anything to get our children started on their journey on the road to Disney.
It was bitterly cold. When it was time to leave, the children were directed to load the buses as quickly as possible (especially owing to the fact that many of them were still wearing their pajamas in anticipation of sleeping during the early part of the trip). We baggage loaders used our puzzle-solving skills to stack the luggage underneath the buses in the open compartments to maximize efficiency; we also packed all the instruments that were going to be needed for the performances. It was a hurried, frenzied affair. And, naturally, there were last-minute deliveries that had to be stuffed into whatever open space might be found.
But we did it. Everyone - and everything - was stowed away, ready for the journey.
And then the bus doors closed, the engines roared, and they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road on their way to Florida. Warm, sunny, non-freezing Florida.
And Disney.
::
For those of us who remained, we had a pleasant evening attending the Student Art Show downtown at the Grand Rapids Art Museum (GRAM) where Mary's work was to be displayed. We arrived to find the Museum already crowded with patrons. Apparently, ours was not the only show in town! (It must be noted that Admission is free on Thursday nights, which might also explain the crowded conditions.)
We walked downstairs to the gallery where the students' works were displayed. It was crowded there, too, but much of that was due to the fact that it was a very small room, and much space was taken up by the table of cookies and punch. A bit too much, if you ask me. It was almost as though they had given no thought to the fact that if the parents of half the students showed up at the same time to view their darlings' work, there would not be sufficient room for anyone to stand, let alone observe a work of art.Nevertheless, we moved around as best we could, looking at some of the pieces hanging on the wall and reading the notes on each one, biding our time until all those other yahoos could clear a path so that we could get to the main attraction, which was Mary's piece. I don't know why they were even bothering to look at any other work. Hers was obviously superior to anything else that was presented.
Or at least that's the way I looked at it.
Mary and Adam eventually returned and it might have been our decision to hurry at once to the restaurant to eat had we been any less than true patrons of the Arts, but we chose instead to spend a happy hour or so wandering through the exhibit rooms enjoying the fine pieces which had been laid out for our inspection. Fabrics, pottery, watercolors (my favorite), clay masks, oils - all so very pleasing, all so relaxing. I could've wandered there for days had there been more to see.
But our appetites would not be quenched. We walked across the street to one of our favorite little haunts, the Angel Thai restaurant, and proceeded to enjoy a marvelous buffet dinner of savory soups, choice noodles, rice, and assorted meats, served with a bracing pot of hot jasmine tea.
Mischievious as we were, we sent a picture of our delicious repast to Deb, who was apparently lying in the middle of the bus aisle in a self-made "nest" eating snacks provided by her friends and looking forward to a long night with very little sleep. She thanked us kindly for our thoughtfulness and then reminded us that she was going to be playing at Disney. Nyah! So we had our just reward.
Then we proceeded at length to depart the restaurant and head home. It had been a long and fruitful day.
1 comment:
Sounds like a great day all around! <3
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