One thing is perfectly clear to me at this moment: we are Northern Californians. My children have lived on modest little dirt hills in the Sierra foothills their whole lives, and the concrete expanses in front of us as we drive down Highway 5 are shockingly different from our usual abode. As we climbed over the Grapevine and descended into the valley, the layer of smog brought forth exclamations of, "Is that fog or mist or ...??? What is it, Mommy?" Bless your innocent little hearts; that's smog, boys and girls.
Yes, we're on the road again. This week-end and next we are finishing up our speech season with a flourish. La Mirada this weekend, and San Jose next, and the hospitality of dear friends in both places. Already there are no thoughts of smog or concrete or traffic, even though we are still in the midst; we get to see our duck loving friends, and we can hardly wait!!!
Since we're traveling with a large harp, we passed our large boys off to friends, and we have the two littles and our harp player with us. It always fascinates me to see how the family fabric changes with the absence of one or more of the family. It's been a totally different kind of fun this time, and we're eager to be reunited tonight.
What's the CD player been busy with as we drive? Well:
Steve Bell's Solace
Michael Card's Present Reality
Rascal (written by Sterling North; read by Jim Weiss)
The Aneid (written by Virgil, translated by Fagles, read by Simon Callow.)
It will be another cluster of days filled with speeches about current events, freedom, harp playing, Mr. Toad, Pilgrim's Progress, P.G. Wodehouse, bees, rats, conspiracy theories, Merchant of Venice, voting ages, our current definition of adulthood, the seven deadly sins, Red Badge of Courage, Dr. Faustus, the violin, caffeine, cars, intelligent design, made up languages, A Man for all Seasons, the Great Divorce, Les Mis, Uncle Tom's Cabin....okay, I am getting carried away. Facts are: I will be energized, inspired, exhausted and invigorated this weekend. The speech world really is the bee's roller skates, as P.G. Wodehouse would say *heh heh heh*
FYI: L.A. traffic is the perfect opportunity for Lamaze breathing (which I found less than effective during labor.)