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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
I put Beethoven's Pastoral Symphony (Number 6, in F) on the CD player during our drive to Hyas Lake on Saturday.
The 4-year-old piped up from his car seat, "Oh, I like this music! It's pretty. It goes well with the pretty scenery."
As Beethoven titled the first movement: "Awakening of cheerful feelings upon arrival in the country."
Well done, Ludwig!
Such a great piece.
That night as we were singing songs around the campfire, the kid asked me to sing "that country symphony we listened to in the car." I sang the opening phrases of the second movement but alas couldn't take it very far.
* * *
This morning the kid kept bugging me to spell, "seer sucker sea, wolf bucker B," but I hadn't time as I was fixing our breakfast and his lunch. And he was running around neglecting his chore of feeding the chickens, and so on the 3rd or 4th request to spell, "seer sucker sea, wolf bucker B," I said, "How do you spell, 'Please feed the chickens'?" He laughed and fed the chickens.
But I still hadn't spelled his phrase. As I was dropping him off at pre-school, he asked again that I spell it, but we were running late, and so I said I would leave it on a piece of paper in his lunch bag as he ran off to the first lesson. On the drive to school I had asked him if he wanted the ocean sea or the letter C, and a buzzing bee or the letter B, and he wanted the ocean sea and the letter B.
When I picked him up this afternoon, he hadn’t noticed the scrap in his bag, and so I showed it to him, and he read it, and smiled, and said, “How do you spell, ‘Please feed the chickens’?”
And I laughed and wrote it down.
After dinner the next-door-neighbor 4-year-old and her 2-year-old brother came over for a jam session, and the four of us jammed, and then the neighbors left, and the kid started singing his new song, singing his heart out, playing the toy piano, while I played a Tibetan horn,
seer sucker sea
wolf bucker B
Please feed the chickens.
* * *
Our computer is possessed by a demon of slowness, and some things aren’t working well. The word processing program seems to be working fine, but when I tried to type this post directly onto the blogging web site, the computer set the letters a little faster than one letter per second. As I type 60 or 70 words a minute, I got far ahead, and as I got farther ahead, the computer started losing the thread, and the text started breaking up, and this is what was left, before I went to the word processing program and re-wrote the post.
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