It’s coming towards the end of the school year; time to take a breath, put on a costume and show off.
Girl1 had her first trumpet exam last week. The early morning tunes we’ve been hearing for ever, transformed with effort and piano accompaniment. Scales and arpeggios (no, I have no idea) sounding vaguely in tune. Girl1 looking overwhelmed by the huge School of Music. Relief, and pride, when it was all over. With a bit of luck there will be a pass for her, some credit for the trying, some reassurance that it’s been worthwhile.
Part of the adventure was the travelling. The School of Music is at the far side of town, and the taxi drivers went along unfamiliar city streets. Girl1 was like a meerkat- straight backed, head spinning round to absorb the crowds, the houses, the concrete walls of the westlink. So much more enthralling than the motorway route she’d be more used to.
By the next day the trumpet exam was but a distant memory- it was show time. For two nights in the week the primary school performed ‘Oliver’. They have been practising for
ever a few months, and it showed. Costumes, make up, late nights, being on stage- what else could a 10 year old want? Girl1’s moment of glory lasted, ooh, minutes and she was radiant. The smallest on the stage, but also the loudest, she revelled in every second in the spotlight as a strawberry seller.
We spent Saturday afternoon preparing for the next set of performances; two days of the dancing festival and the ballet show. I have to sew elastic on to black pumps and do something with fur to make a lion costume. Fur. Yup. I went to the haberdashery shop (not sure I’ve ever used that phrase before) in the morning and came out with enough brown furry stuff to dress the whole pride if need be. Or upholster some seedy seats.
I’m sure you’ll hear about it either way.