For those who, like me, thought that rakkity had retired to a life of leisure, fear not, he is back. His Superman and Another Lilly comments have me hoping weíll soon read about his fights with amorous goats and hiking trails even he found daunting.

Wondering where yesterdayís post went? I got so much flack from so many fronts about how I had violated Joeís sacred trust, or humiliated Jen, or just been a downright stupid , uncaring person, I decided to remove it.

And the lilly, well, I didnít think it was my best and then I received this email:
I’m not going out on a limb so you’ll listen harder to my usually gushing praise after my offering purported evidence of having a real ability to critique. Well, okay, some, but not foremost………. But hear me out — the thumb (and thus overall composition) is a blob, the underside glary, the DOF not adequate (or the forms not supportive of the lack thereof), and the clever inclusion of a bud with a blossom reads more like an alien spermatozoa, or a botanical molester or pickpocket sneaking in as positioned. Sorry to be so negative so early, but I didn’t want to be either harsh or mendacious in public on the blog……. Refute me, please………

Looking out Flo’s window.

Diane and Dan joined ( I know, those companion fees …) Flo and me for Rickís June recital. Tíwas better than May, with a larger crowd (not just by three, Susan), and Iím convinced had he a more elastic audience, there would have been a standing ovation. Among others, Rick played Strauss, Beethovenís “Rage Over A Lost Penny,” Pucciniís “Gianni Schicchi” and Smetanaís “Moldau.”

However, the hit of the day was Dan’s dog, Paxie, who circulated around the crowd and then spent most of the concert on Floís lap.

Flo led Dan on a tour of Concord Park ( “It’s very well laid out.” “There are elevators everywhere.”), ending in her apartment.
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From Lynn Trussís book: Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation :

“One of the comma heavyweight championship bouts of the 20th century played out between Harold Ross, the legendary editor of The New Yorker, and the equally legendary humorist James Thurber. Ross was a pro-comma kind of guy. Thurber was of the less-is-more school, but since Ross was the editor, he generally had the last word. Thurber was asked by a correspondent why he used a comma in the sentence, “After dinner, the men went into the living-room.” His answer was probably one of the loveliest things ever said about punctuation. ‘This particular comma,’ Thurber explained, ‘was Ross’s way of giving the men time to push back their chairs and stand up.’ ”

My local library has a waiting list of four hundred for this book on punctuation. No, I didn’t make it 401.

The most recent email from Egdelina:

believe that the information did not arrive, but is here again. The transport of the airport until EstelÃŒ in deprived car, for Matt and Hilary, has a cost of the 70 USA They come direct from the airport to its families in EstelÃŒ. The guide is called Jose Luis Lopez, uses lenses, been of strong low stature and. The guide will have a label that says “to SCHOOL HORIZON” for easier identification. Matt and Hilary can return in transport deprived to Managua the 06 of August, also has a cost of the 70 USA by this service, with the same guide (Jose Luis Lopez). They will leave early from EstelÃŒ in the morning, to arrive on time at the airport. It is not a problem. If They have some problem, they can call to the school, if they are in the United States the number is: (505) 713 4117 but if they are in Nicaragua do not need the code the country (505). single they mark 0 713 4117. IF Matt and Hilary arrive before at the airport, they can hope in a cafeteria of the airport or to call to the cellular one of Gui’a, the number is: 616-4439. Also they can call to the school so that I contact the guide. But this I believe that it will not happen. The guide will have a label that says “to SCHOOL HORIZON” for easier identification. Matt and Hilary must pay directly to the guide in cash, the service of the 70 USA, in Managua the school does not accept traveler’s checks, because they become cash until the 22 days and we in the school paid to families and teachers every week. If they have traveler’s check they can change in the banks of EstelÃŒ soon to pay in the school. Also they can bring a credit card to remove money in the bank, and soon to pay to the school. Another option is, you you can deposit the money to my account of bank. The amount altogether by all the program of Matt and Hilary is the 1200,00 USA altogether. Because every week of program is the 150,00 USA by student, including the family, the classes and the activities Name of the account: Egdelina of Hundredth the Lanuza Rosary Bank of Central America (BAC) the account number is: 009022617 the price of the 150,00 USA is a special price for them. Because in our web site the price of the program per week is of the 165 USA by each person. The families are close, the family of Hilary is: Name of the Family: Luisa de Ibarra Telephone: 713-2245 Direction: Of Warehouse Thousand Colors 75 twigs to the East. The family of Matt is: Name of the family: Mairena Aid Telephone: 713-3274 Direction: Of the CURACAO 1 block and 25 twigs to the West. They can bring chocolates or candies, for the family in general. They can bring clothes and shoes for winter, the winter aqui is different that in his pais. He is not very cold, but there are days of rain and days of sun. If they have more questions you you can write to us. Until soon! Egdelina Lanuza Director

As Michael has mentioned I had a slight mishap a couple of weeks ago. And as Michael sometimes does (!) he has asked for documentation. So here goes.

I heard the break. The same sound that delights one as a child when we crack our knuckles. Only louder. It was 8:15 AM and I was going (rushing, trotting) down the stairs I have been going down for nearly 12 years (who knew I needed more practice). It was just me and my Matthew and he had a much looked forward to field trip to the Butterfly Museum that day. I was rushing because I had to get his lunch packed, something I never do as he prefers to buy lunch. Anyway, his backpack was downstairs and this was my destination. My left foot slipped third step from the bottom and my right leg went under me. As I say I heard the break. I also felt heat rising from my legs on up. I asked Matthew to get me an ice pack at which point I passed out. I didn’t think you could pass out when you were in a seated position but apparently you can. I came to with Matthew standing over me screaming “Mom, Mom, Mom”. Did I mention I heard the break? I told Matthew to go to the phone and call his grandmother as I didn’t want him calling 911 because I knew it would scare him. Lo and behold, there is no dial tone. I thought my phone was out of order but in fact the teen-age daughter had left a phone off the hook the previous night, which wouldn’t be figured out until much later when it didn’t matter anymore. So, panic setting in and my ankle turning into a softball, I had to ask Matthew to find my cell phone. When it was unfindable I needed him to go the neighbors. He went to two houses and came back, sobbing, saying that no one answered the door. So I sent him across the street to the people we don’t know well and the next thing I hear an adult male in my house saying “hello, does someone need help”. “I’m down here (literally)” I reply. He went in my freezer and with Matthew’s help locating plastic bags, gave me ice for my ankle. He tells me his name is Greg. I tell him I’m Chris. I ask Greg to call my cell phone so at least we located it. But at the bottom of my stairs I had no reception, so it was a moot point. He called my mother-in-law who, as she has done countless times in our adult lives, came to the rescue. Greg left and it was me and Matthew. “Mom, did I miss the bus?” he asked me as he was pacing around with his backpack on his back. “Yes you did Matthew. But I promise we’ll make it up to you and take you to the Butterfly Museum ourselves”. “I want to go to school” he replied. This poor kid desperately needed things to be normal while his mother, in pain but if I say so myself holding it together quite well, was on the floor unable to move. I hugged him. He asked me if I needed anything. A wet, cold face cloth I replied. He brought it to me. In the meantime I dialed Mark’s number at work and sent Matthew upstairs to actually place the call and tell Daddy to come home. Which he very calmly did. My mother-in-law arrived and called 911. It must have been a tremendous relief for Matthew when Nana came as he disappeared from the downstairs as fast as he could. Ambulances, etc, arrived immediately. By the way, when you call 911 from a cell phone the state police come as well. Who knew.

So now these lovely paramedics who cannot possibly be paid enough to do everything they do got me upstairs in a stair chair. Quite unnerving for both them and me. I gave a shout goodbye out to Matthew and told him I was going to be fine. He yelled goodbye from behind a closed door. He later told me that he watched them all come in the house but he just couldn’t watch them take me out of the house “it would have added to my stress”. I told him that even Batman had to stay in the Bat cave sometimes and it was quite alright.

So off I go in the back of the ambulance, clutching the face cloth that Matthew had given me. I was in the hands of driver Bobby and Frank, who gave me a bucket as the ride was making me nauseous. While I was waiting to be x-rayed Mark showed up. This is when I finally fell apart. I told him how brave Matthew had been and he said when he got to the house Matthew had given him a big hug and grilled him about what his where-abouts would be the rest of the day. An ER doctor came and started to question me on what happened. Upon hearing that I passed out, and making sure that I passed out after the fall and not before the fall, the conversation went as follows:

ER Doc: “Have you ever passed out from pain before”
Me: “no. I’ve never passed out before”
Mark (from across the room where I was sure he had glazed over): “yes you have”.
Me: “I have?”
Mark: “yes, that time in that class”

And it came back to me in all its humiliating splendor. Back in 1984 I was taking an aerobics class at the Joy of Movement in Watertown, pulled a hamstring, and came to surrounded by paramedics. My friend Laurin was with me and either from the circumstance or relief from the fact that I was okay, was laughing hysterically. I relayed the story to the ER doc who also got a chuckle out of this.

After the x-ray came back I was told I was lucky (not exactly how I would describe how I felt). It was a clean ankle break, distal right fibula. Call an orthopedist, here are your narcotics, a 20 second lesson on how to use crutches, the knee length boot was put on and they sent me home. I was still clutching the blue face cloth Matthew had given me. I gave it to Mark, who put it in the bucket the ambulance man had given me, they wheeled me out of there, and home I went.

When I got home, my father-in-law had joined my mother-in-law and they had brought Matthew out to breakfast. They then went to the grocery store and loaded us up with food. Matthew wouldn’t come near me. He wouldn’t for days. If I asked for a hug they were given with him bending over and his arms outstretched so as not to get near me. He told me he was scared when my leg hurt and he didn’t want to be near my leg. Who could blame him. I spent a lot of time telling him how brave he was and how proud of him I am and how there can be emergencies but life goes back to normal afterward. Still, Mark and I are concerned that his college fund is now his post traumatic stress fund.

My mother-in-law is taking Matthew to the Butterfly Museum next week.

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Two more from Adam’s party:

Is it my imagination or is Mark about to bend over and kiss me on lips?

The romantic moment passes.

Why am I thinking of another man on my own twentieth wedding anniversary?

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Iím waiting for Diane to fill out an accident report before we go off to Danielaís for a celebratory dinner. Unfortunately, that means I have more time to play with the blog.

From the Noland archives:

ìMy brother has been married for fifty-one years (Noland is not overly fond of his sister-in-law). Can you imagine standing in front of the judge at twenty-six and hearing, ìThe sentence is fifty-one years?î

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Chris Rad fell and broke her ankle about ten days ago. Her Matthew (7), the only one home at the time, did remarkably well tending to his mother until the ambulance came. ” Mom, I couldn’t watch when they carried you out the door. It added too much to my stress level.”

Poker in Milford at Dwight’s house. Stu smiles after his third winning low guts hand.

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How do musicians turn the pages of their sheet music?

Kate would stop playing, turn the page and resume again. Rick’s hand flew from the keyboard to the page and back, without missing a note. Is music written with that in mind? Does the pianist read ahead?

I arrived at 12:15 for the recital at 12:30, concerned that I wouldn’t get a good seat. Unlike for the last pianist, the professional, the couches and chairs were not all rearranged to face the piano. Nor were there many folks waiting, so I knew I had time to follow Flo back to her apartment to : plug in her new Victorian-shaded night light, glue the bottom of the full length mirror to her closet door and hang the paper towel holder. Still, concerned the masses were assembling for Kate, the granddaughter of one the Concord Parkians, we hurried back to the piano room.

No sweat, we got prime seats and Kate walked in the door only a few minutes late. With no introduction, no synopsis of the music she was about to play – she plopped on the bench and began to play. My impressions? She’s sixteen, more or less, and she’s no prodigy, but she plays determinedly and well enough. Flo and I both enjoyed her talent, but Flo, always concerned about other people’s feelings, worried about her reception.

For instance, there was no one to introduce her, and at the end there were no formal thank yous. Nor flowers. Kate stood up, back to her admirers and walked out. And that page turning thing. Even those who fell asleep, awoke to applaud when she finished a song. But when you stop, flip a page, tuck it under an adjacent music book, then resume, quite often you’ll get inappropriate applause . Flo would shake her head when that happened – she knows when a song ends. And, as she did when Rick played, she sang along. This time to Liebestraum, “I could sing that in German, but not anymore.” Flo even thanked Kate at the end for playing – Susan, is that the Mephisto Waltz?

Midway through her routine, Kate tapped out a mostly flawless rendition of something even I recognized, and without page turning punctuations. I was compelled to hop up and ask her, “What was that?”

I got a brief smile and an icy, “Chopin.”

I thought, okay, but what piece? However, I suddenly recognized this familiar, mum, teenage territory and though I wanted an answer, I realized I wasn’t going to get it. I looked at the thick play book, saw Chopin and underneath, Nocturnes, and said, ëOh, Chopin’s Nocturne?” As soon as the words tumbled from my lips, I knew I had joined the inappropriate clappers. She gave me an icier, get-back-to-your-seat look, and answered with a condescending, “Yes.”
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Greg was one of 70 returning lead performers in a gala tribute (May 22) to his retiring 8th grade music teacher, Pip Moss.

Pip as he was known to student and parent alike, had the middle school students produce a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta in each of his 34 years of teaching. Becca, Sarah, and Greg all played lead roles in Mikado, Gondoliers, and Iolanthe, respectively.

The love of music and theatre which Pip stirred in so many since 1969, launched Greg and me into a 15-year tradition of attending all the G&S plays put on by the Harvard-Radcliffe G&S Players. In the last few years, Q has been joining us in our semi-annual dinner-and-a-play pilgrimage into Harvard Square.

What this quinticential, unassuming, generous man gave to so many iin the Lincoln community is remarkable — and I as a parent am truly thankful.

Linda finally found, and brought home yesterday, her birthday present.

Meet the newest member of our family — a very cute female toy poodle — 8 weeks old, 2 pounds!

She’s overjoyed at joining a nice family and having a big brother. Remo’s been very tolerant, but is not yet ready to play or show her the ropes.

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Quicktime movie of my flying boar posted for two reasons. First, Mark worried that it wouldn’t fly a well as the demo version in the British department store, and secondly, to further feed the mirth expressed by SIL.