Quotes & Performance & Family, Oh My!

Two inter­est­ing quotes today:

It’s a shal­low life that does­n’t give a per­son a few scars.
–Gar­ri­son Keillor

Ain’t that the truth?

Time is the most valu­able thing a man can spend.
–Theophras­tus

I got lots of val­ue for the time spent this evening at the Try­bal­a­ka performance.

The per­for­mance itself was a bit rough. We had three peo­ple out and com­pet­ing with the traf­fic noise was dif­fi­cult at times. But it’s good to have done it, and every expe­ri­ence makes us that much bet­ter. I look for­ward to the next per­for­mance with ALL of us there. I seem to be get­ting sam­bear’s what­ev­er-it-is, though, and my voice cracked sev­er­al times. Ick.

I met lot­sa peo­ple! keira­cait­lyn and lunamoon­song and, um, I know there were oth­er peo­ple I met for the first time who are prob­a­bly on LJ and now I’m going blank. But they were there, and I enjoyed it. And we saw god­dessin­ga and greyknight too 🙂 And K’La—is she on LJ? What about Tara? arrow­star and her daugh­ter were there, as well. And just­callmea­corn. I know I’m for­get­ting oth­er folks. I’m sor­ry. I’ll grovel.

real_pochacco and lit­tle­fire­fae were there with us. They hied them­selves off with arrow­star’s daugh­ter S right after the per­for­mance to sit at the back of the cof­fee shop and talk. I’m sure that was much more enter­tain­ing than hang­ing out with the old people 🙂

As we left, I told sam­bear that the mar­velous hugs we get when­ev­er we’re around Try­bal­a­ka mem­bers could damn near pull me out of intro­vert sta­tus. They do make it much eas­i­er to leave home!

There was a DARLING baby named Mer­cedes in the audience—I wish I had a pic­ture! Such a beau­ty! You would not believe her hair—all curly and thick and black and incred­i­bly soft. Her par­ents were Nina and Joe and Greg (I hope that’s right) was with them but I was­n’t clear as to whether he was *with* them so I don’t know if he’s a par­ent, too. They seemed like nice folks, in any case. 

rasilio and _starrgirl_ and fam­i­ly left for home ear­li­er today. The house feels all emp­ty now. Their babies have grown so much, and Jackson—oh my! He’s talk­ing up a storm and is so very sweet and cud­dly, even more so than before! They could­n’t fit their baby bed in the car, so here it stays. Those of you with babies have absolute­ly no excuse for not vis­it­ing, see?

I want a baby. I do. I want a baby.

I miss shad­owkatt so, so very much. I know, every­body is tired of hear­ing that. She should, how­ev­er, be home tomor­row evening! She’ll prob­a­bly want to sleep for days, though—she’s always very worn out after a trip.

The oth­er day sam­bear picked up some­thing called, I think, “Ticky Tak” for use in hang­ing up stuff on the walls of lit­tle­fire­fae’s room. I know it said “Super Glue” some­where on the pack­ag­ing. It claimed to be every­thing you’d want in an adhe­sive for hang­ing up stuff—won’t hurt the wall or the pic­ture, is reusable, very easy, very cheap, etc. While it might have been those things, its actu­al adhe­sion left a great deal to be desired. We switched to 3M Com­mand Strips and they, as usu­al, worked very nice­ly. She’s got all but one of the things she want­ed to be hung up, and that last one is on the floor being flat­tened by large books after being rolled up for quite a while.

curiousmay9 is com­ing over tomor­row. That’s always a delight. And we’re going to be pro­duc­tive. Real­ly! We got the parts to fix the on/off switch for the ceil­ing fan in the liv­ing room, and she may be able to help install it. Those of you who have shiv­ered under the fan we can’t turn off should be hap­py. I know I am.

I just real­ized some­thing—sam­bear is going to work tomor­row. He’s final­ly well enough, yay! And R and G will be going to school, bar­ring unfore­seen prob­lems. So until curiousmay9 gets here, I’ll have the house to myself. Wow.

Cur­rent Mood: 🙂recum­bent
Cyn is a proud Mommy & Mémé, professional geek, avid reader, fledgling coder, enthusiastic gamer (TTRPGs), occasional singer, and devoted stitcher.
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