Of Love and Bagpipes

I am wearing my grey sweats in celebration of the fact that we have nowhere to go today. And my green "I am, I can, I ought, I will!" Ambleside Online t-shirt. For inspiration.

Actually, we have to go to the strings shop and get a new shoulder rest for Mariel's violin, but that is just up the road. Hopefully there will be no high-society types in the store when we get there. All those high society types that frequent strings shops. I guess there is a good possibility we might see someone from the Symphony, but surely Whomever It Is will not bother to notice the mother of three in grey sweats asking for a new shoulder rest.

Going to this shop is an Event, although not the kind that requires formal clothing. Where else can you see string instruments in various states of creation hanging from the rafters, and lines of bows as orderly as tall, thin soldiers descending from the ceiling? The children are partial to the large bass standing in one corner and the little homemade dollhouse sitting on the counter which once won a ribbon at a state fair.

Mr. Honey would like to learn the bagpipes. He is convinced that he is one of the few people in the world who truly appreciates the sound of bagpipe music. I reminded him that his children dearly love the Scottish bagpipes CD he purchased several years ago.

I enjoy bagpipes as well. However, constantly listening to the one bagpipes CD that we own has dampened my enthusiasm considerably. I have been known to hide that CD.

My big plans for the day include tacking "and I love you" to the end of everything I say to my family. I'm not sure if this will cheapen the phrase or fill the kids and Mr. Honey with knowledge of my love for them. It is an experiment. I think perhaps the effectiveness of the words depends a lot on nonverbal communication.

We also plan to do lessons and write Christmas cards (finally) and make gifts and bake cookies and do laundry. Why do I think we are not going to get everything on the list accomplished?

Lately, I have been placing my focus more on doing things together and less on getting things done. That's probably why the cards aren't even started yet. So if you get your Christmas card late, receive it with the understanding that I was focused on bolstering family relationships as I (we) wrote them.

Isn't that the crux of raising a family? How to do the necessaries while simultaneously manifesting love for one another. May the Lord bless us all to achieve this balance.

(Yes, I know this is a stream of consciousness post, and that I am not Original. I guess Cindy is the one who started the little Stream of Consciousness Wave that has rippled through a portion of the blogosphere this week. I enjoyed her post. I don't know why not being original is bothering me all of a sudden; I haven't been bothered by not having original ideas before. But there it is. Awakened into my consciousness, the accusation surfacing like a bad high school dream. Yes, I'm copying. My consolation is that I am only copying format and not content. I hope. You know how sometimes you think you are having an original thought and later you realize you read it somewhere? May we all be saved from such an occurrence. But really, I wonder how it is possible to have an original thought at this late date in history. Surely it's all been thought of before.)

Update: We got the shoulder rest and Mariel promised the luthier that she would practice two hours per day in exchange for a lollipop. Hmm. I did not tack on "and I love you" to the end of all my sentences today, but maybe a quarter of my communications with the kids, when it felt appropriate. And no baking or writing of Christmas cards occurred. But we still have the evening. And we have listened to no bagpipes whatsoever.

'Nuther Update: It was the kind of evening that comes once in a blue moon. The kids actually enjoyed my chicken/black bean/onion soup. (They didn't know there were onions in it.) They hopped up from the table and began clearing and washing dishes as soon as they were finished eating. (They knew cookie-baking was about to begin.) They set the table up for cookies and pleasantly rolled and cut and sprinkled as Mr. Honey read to them from The Horse and His Boy. I made brownies in the kitchen. Mr. Honey completed two chapters and began searching for old Genesis songs online. The kids finished making cookies and drifted into the living room to play a board game. No one fought. (!) Then Mr. Honey found a special song he wanted me to hear. It was Oh, Come All Ye Faithful. On bagpipes. Lots of laughter at my expense! The children and Mr. Honey danced a jig. I groaned and pretended to cover my ears. Then he relented and played some ethereal Celtic music.... I could live several days on the blessing of this evening.