Musically Inclined

At the end of last year, the Grade 4 students were invited to apply for this year's Instrumental Music Program.  They each nominated their top 3 choices of instrument (from those available at the school), then were tested for physical suitability and potential ability.  Cheyenne was apparently better suited to flute than to clarinet. Luckily, flute had been her first choice all along.

There were a few pitfalls of course.  There are not enough school flutes to go around, so we had to decide whether to hire or purchase our own.  After adding up costs associated with hiring, and reviewing prices for brand new flutes (yikes!), we decided to buy a secondhand flute from a local music store, for a reasonable price.

Last week, Cheyenne and four other flute students from her school attended a full day Kickstart Music Workshop at another local school, along with students from several other surrounding schools.  Here they learned the basics from flute assembly and cleaning, correct hand positions for playing, and correct posture, through to learning their first few notes (B, A and G) and playing some simple tunes.

Cheyenne was very excited to be able to come home and play Hot Cross Buns.

I'm glad, not only that she chose to learn an instrument, but that she has the opportunity to do so - something I unfortunately missed out on in primary school, as my school was too small to have a music teacher.

Today she has her first flute lesson with the school Instrumental Music teacher, Mr James, so I'm sure she will come home with new things to practice.  I hope she retains her love of music, even in the face of seemingly endless practice.

Remembering Birthdays

1989

Today would have been my Dad's 90th birthday, had cancer not taken him from us nearly twenty years ago.

It's not hard to imagine what he'd have been like at 90.  Probably not so much different from how he was at 70.  Just older.  He would have been proud to see me happily married and he would have loved having a granddaughter, I'm sure.  He would have been secretly pleased that like me, she also shares his love of camping, and of cats.

I will always miss him, but often it's the smallest things that bring that home to me...  Like stargazing with Cheyenne and remembering how my Dad would set up his telescope and point out constellations for my brother and I (most of which I have forgotten and need to look up).  Or counting how many seconds between the flash of lightning and the rumble of thunder to see how far off a storm is.  Do you think I can remember the formula for that?  My Dad knew.  If only I could still ask him.  Yes, I'm sure the answer is out there for me to Google, but it's just not the same.

Happy Birthday Dad.  I love you ♥

July 1976

Life begins...?

Apparently, if you believe what the popular adage says, "Life begins at 40."  Wait, what?  What exactly have the last 39 years been?  Not life?  Perhaps a mere existence then.

Well, three and a bit months in and I'm still waiting for this "new beginning".  Come at me Life. I'm ready.

...No ?

Thought as much.

Nothing has changed.  Inside, I don't feel any older (or wiser, lol).  I'm still married to a wonderful (if sometimes exasperating) man, still have a daughter with attitude, still have a mortgage, still looking for work, still enjoying the company of my friends...

So, I'm fairly sure this "life begins" business is just BS to bolster the spirits of those who are depressed because turning 40 apparently means they are now OLD.  But you know what?  I'm ok with it being BS because I'm ok with being 40.  Age is not a number, it's a state of mind.

Being 40 does not make me feel old.  The fact that Cheyenne is now 10 and started Grade 5 this year?  That makes me feel old.

Photoboard of my first 40 years.