192 posts from 2007

I hear you ask.
Or not.
I'll tell you anyway, since this is all I'm doing for the next week.

Probably most of you know the standard Nutcracker ballet storyline:
Clara is the daughter of the house and gets a Nutcracker doll at Christmas.
She has a dream in which the Nutcracker leads some toy soldiers in fighting the mice, and kills the Mouse King.
Then the Nutcracker/Prince leads Clara through a snow storm to a dreamland where a bunch of candies dance for her.
Then there is a garden of flowers, and the Sugar Plum Fairy, and Clara wakes up.
A nice production usually has it all done as wealthy Victorian, maids in the background, ladies in jewels, and all very silk-lined and comfy.
Clara is a little princess character, and it's all maybe a little cloying.

Anyway, that's not our Nutcracker.
Our Nutcracker was Choreographed by the founder of Sair's school about twenty years ago.
(I've never seen a date on it, so this is my best guess. I know of it back that far.)
The music is the same, and much of the dancing, but the storyline is different.
Our Nutcracker is about a homeless girl and her brother sleeping on the street in Russia in the snow outside a grand house where a party was going on.
The party has ended and the bratty son of a departing family harasses the children.
The brother points at the warm house and then their own pitiful blanket.
The host, Drosselmeyer sees them and takes pity.
He invites Clara and her brother Fritz are into the house, and give them presents, but at first the children behave badly and they quarrel.
Fritz finally breaks Clara's new Nutcracker doll on purpose, and Drosselmeyer turns him into a mouse.
Drosselmeyer does some magic, or maybe Clara is dreaming, but the children shrink.
Scary mice attack Clara, led by Fritz as the Mouse King, and toy soldiers led by her Nutcracker defend Clara.
The Nutcracker and Mouse King duel, but at the last moment Clara recognizes Fritz in his mouse disguise, saves him, and turns him back into a boy.
No mice are killed; soldier dolls and mice do kissy-poo, and The Nutcracker leads Clara and Fritz to the Land of Snow.
The Sugar Plum meets them and leads them to the Land of Sweets where all the treats dance for them.
But it has only been a dream -- the dancers finish, the music stops.
Clara and Fritz are asleep on the cold street.
The party has just ended, and a wealthy family is leaving.
But this time the family is shocked to find the two children out in the cold, and the parents draw them to them.
The little girl is carrying a nutcracker doll, and gives it to Clara.
As Clara is about to walk away with her new family, Drosselmeyer calls her attention to where the backdrop for the house/street has been drawn away, and all the dream dancers are waving farewell to her.

I should probably add that it's touching to see.
It is a school production -- they hire three professional male dancers for the pas, otherwise it's all our kids.
Sarah started out as a little angel; this year she's the big angel leading them out (among other things).
It's good dancing though.
The choreography at each level allows the kids to dance pretty much at their level of competence -- the lambs are about seven and they are lambs.
The mice are fourteen and sort of ratty.
And the more demanding parts are well-danced.
Maybe not SF Ballet, sure, but every year our graduating seniors include kids going to places like Indiana University, or Julliard, or even ballet companies.

And what I can't convey in this telling, is that it is also pretty witty.
Fritz is a brat, and the guy who usually dances the part is one of my favorite performers ever.
Mother Ginger is one of our male dancers in cowboy boots.
There are clueless shepherdess who can't count three sheep.
And, damn it, after twelve years of it, the ending can still make me cry.

It's Nutcracker time.
I've got another five raffles to run.
And ushering at two outreach performances.
There is a third interactive outreach just for Sarah (no ushering).
Five more full Nutcracker performances.
Meanwhile the house has to get really cleaned to have people over Saturday night and Sunday afternoon.
And Tom's having cataract surgery in the middle of the week.

I should be surfacing after the 16th.
I may manage to drop by a little, but it's going to be crazy around here until then.

That it is All Wet Outside.
Does something need to be done about this?
Oh, and things smell pretty interesting too.

Mr. Boe has made the leap from cat toys to more interesting prey.
First, he stole one of these

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from off Sair's plate with great sneakiness and skill, carried it off in triumph and killed it thoroughly -- complete with growls.
But that was too easy.
Becoming bored, he took off outside into the night, returning shortly with wild game.

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or maybe more like:

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Grasshopper was lots of fun, but I'm mean.
He was willing to share the game; after all he brought the beastie in to us, but I went and scooped it up in a cup and tossed it outside again.
He was watching closely, though, and my little attempt ats slight of hand accomplished nothing.
Grasshopper and kitteh both ended up back out in the night.

When I went to get Boe in before bed he was out front with either the same one, or another.
Again I played spoilsport and interferred with the game.
Grasshopper went free, and kitten came in.

So this afternoon when he brought in a new, fresher friend, all I had to do was start to get out of my chair before he gave me a reproachful look, snatched up his find, and ran off with it.
He still likes me, but I simply do not play fair.

Reports of my demise are exaggerated.
But only barely.
Maybe I can squeeze it in sometime in late January.
This is just the two weeks from hell, given the universal proposition that, all other things being equal, everything must be scheduled at the same time.

So, take Saturday.
December 1st -- a day that will live in infamy.
There's two SAT subject tests, because as a homeschooler she has to take at least four subject tests.
She already did English Literature and Math last month, so this time it's Latin and Biology.
That's 8am to around 11am.
Then she can zip back to ballet for Nutcracker rehearsal all afternoon, but she'll have to leave a little early for her chamber orchestra call at 5, for their winter show at 7pm.
Oh, and her UW on-line application is due at midnight.
 
Oh joy! Sair is applying to colleges for next year.
Yes, she is doing it on her very ownsome, but life as an interested observer is difficult.
And since we homeschool, I have a certain amount of work too, since I am  effectively her high school office, and I get to organize her transcript.
My role is master of the scavenger hunt: Wanted, what were we doing for history in 2004 (American history), and what did we read for it? When did we do which community service? Oh, and how did we assess her work?
Filing and record-keeping have always been my weak point, so I am doing much tossing about of papers and a little fancy cursing.

Luckily it is all pulling together at last.
Basically, there are three sensitive dates: November 30/December 1 -- public universities, and either January 1st or January 15th, private places, for a total of about nine schools.
Each school has an essay, or two, or three, with only minimal overlap as to subject.
So far she's nailed:
"Describe the world you come from,"  and "An accomplishment that defines who you are or makes you proud" -- for a total of 1000 words.
"A story that helps us understand who you are" (550 words).
"Your best mistake" (500-650 words).
She has a short statement on what are her plans for her career in music still to do for Saturday.
She is just starting on 250 words for UW on how she will contribute to diversity on campus, or a story about something multicultural and what she learned from it.
That finishes off the first lot.
The next batch includes gems like, if she was singing karaoke, what song would she choose, how will she introduce herself to her college roommate, and if she could meet a famous person of her choice what would she tell them?
There has been much wailing and gnashing of teeth.
My role has been the applying of cups of tea, and occasional reminders that the essay has to clearly address the assigned topic.

We are getting weird cross-overs from the necessary multi-tasking; she just looked up from biology review to announce
"I can tell UW that sexual reproduction increases diversity."
I guess it's an improvement over the first two options:
"I hate you, I hate you." or "I'll bring the cupcakes!"

Polling groups like to track the approval rating of politicians.  What's your approval rating for President George W. Bush?  

Sorry.
I can't put "approval" and "George W. Bush" in a sentence together.
Just think negative numbers.

"Did you just see a small cat with a small folded washcloth go by?"
The kitten just stole Sair's washcloth off the edge of the tub.
He's taken it somewhere to deal with it in private.