The Sweet Sound of The Recorder

Grade three has with it many great joys. Like his brother before him, yesterday, Drew received his Grade 3 musical Recorder.  His face is beaming as he delicately removes his chocolate colored musical instrument from its cloth bag.  

He delightfully explains that as he progresses through each song in his book he will receive a colored ribbon to tie to his recorder; symbolizing each level of accomplishment he has made.  “Mom, I can’t wait to get home and practice!”. 

Back in the day, it was at this time I too, received my first recorder.  Then in Grade 5, I began my adventure as a flautist.  Music was and continues to be a big part of my life.  More and more I see trickles of what musical talents I have, began to shine through in the kids.

The Recorder is a member of a category of wind instruments known as internal duct flutes.  Like the flute, the recorder has a mouthpiece that acts as a plug creating a shaped windway.  However, what makes the recorder special, is the seven finger holes and single thumb hole, which is known as the octave vent.  Traditionally made of wood, today we are most familiar with ever popular plastic recorders.

 Known as a simple, and elegant instrument, I believe as a parent  I am safe in saying,  that while the recorder can produce sounds of beauty and tranquility by a well-versed musician; it can also be the source of blood-curdling sounds crippling all within ear shot when at the hands of a child (of any age).

Back home Drew has pieced together his instrument and begins the process of practicing his recorder.  Like all great musicians, we all must start somewhere. Or be it a cruel trick by musical educators around the globe. The shrill beginnings of “Mary had a Little Lamb” began to resonate throughout the house. 

As if beckoned by a higher power, his siblings not only ask what he is doing. No. They join the parade! Noah has dug out his own recorder decorated with colourful ribbons and Grace has managed to resurrect my old recorder. 

I would like to tell you that here they paraded around the house, tooting sweet melodies in sweet harmony…however, I cannot.  I blaring sounds of air forced through this pastic weapon, were painful and relentless. “That’s great guys! Maybe we can take it downstairs?”, I pleasantly beg.

“At least their practicing right? We all have to start somewhere.”, but does that somewhere have to be in the same room as me at this given moment?  Then, as if a gift from the powers that be, I glance to the calendar where I am reminded of my manicure appointment at 7:15pm. Only forty minutes from now!!  The door opens as my husband returns home, “Wow, what’s going on here?”, he asks!  

“It’s a musical symphony of recorders Dear! It’ll make your ears bleed with delight!”.  Minutes later as I’m walking to my car I can still hear the honks of their recorders resonating outside the walls of the house.  With a sigh and small chuckle, I drive away with a little smirk on my face…Daddy will survive.

Guacamole or Bust!?

Over the last few months I had found a few new treats to tantalize my taste buds; guacamole, being one of them.  At first I wasn’t a big fan, it did however, grow on me and now I love it.  Nachos, sour cream, salsa and good old guacamole…yum!

During one of my quiet outings, perusing the aisles of the grocery store, I got it in my head to be bold and perhaps make my own.  You must keep in mind that my culinary skills are minimum and repertoire consists of six maybe seven items that I would consider high on the deliciousness scale.  I make a mean lasagne, juicy killer burgers (so I’m told), an awesome nacho casserole dip, macaroni casserole, a lovely Sunday dinner and then we go downhill from here.

Thanks to modern technology I was able to Google a recipe that seemed doable, then, text a friend to see what, if anything I was forgetting. Allrecipes.com, my long time saving grace for food ideas and recipes, called for: Ripe avocados, lemon juice, sour cream, green onions, and garlic powder. My friend suggested a little chilli powder and some cumin seeds (which I had no idea what they were).  Seemed simple enough; one grocery bag and $23.00 later, I was off to produce some tasty goodness!

Avocados’, less the pit, into the bowl. Mush mush.  Sour cream, lemon juice, green onion, pinch of garlic and chilli powder – whip, whip, whip.  It is here that one reaches the critical fork in the road. An executive decision must be made as to determine what else, if anything should be added.  At this point I’m thinking it all looks pretty good.  Not quite the consistency I’m looking for, but nothing a little more sour cream and few more whips of the mixer can’t fix. Right?

Finally, my creation is looking as I believe it should. By now, two of my little people have ventured into the kitchen to see what I am doing.  “Guacamole!”, I proudly exclaim. Their faces do not show quite the same enthusiasm that I have, but none the less, we were about to taste test.  Grace grabs a bag of nachos (always eager to lend a helping hand), while Noah just keeps staring into the bowl, questioning the green substance that lay within.

Nacho, scoop, taste, and….. “BLAH!!!!”.  “Sweet mother of…”, “Mom! That’s disgusting!!” – while simultaneously my Drew enters and states, “Wow, why do you have a bowl of boogers?”.  In unison the three of us spit our muck into the garbage, followed by a mouth rinse with water, and I am immediately hit with reality of my sons statement.

This “guacamole” was terrible! I had once again managed to make a mockery of something they all said, “OH, it’s super easy to make. No problem at all”.  Well, ba-hum-bug to that!  While I have never tasted boogers, I have to admit, that I’m guessing this dip would probably be a close second.  Drew was right, not only did I manage to concoct a full bowl of booger textured, awfulness;  it was in no way aesthetically pleasing to any of the senses.  I concede defeat.

In reviewing my supplies, I believed I had ripe avocados (though I’ll never know), followed the recipe almost exactly, with only minor executive decision making…. Several days later and the children were still mocking my efforts.  “Noah, remember when Mom had you her booger mix? Ha ha ha ha”!

Guacamole or bust? A very large…BUST.

Back to School

September has arrived once again. Summer was…well, a little rough getting started; however, when it did, those last ten days of August were amazing. Sunny, hot, all the things a summer should be – perhaps just a little longer than ten days!

Labor Day weekend was time to regroup. We cleaned the garage, scoured the house, things were coming back together nicely. In preparation for school, the slate needed to be clean (meaning the dirt of the house), we were going into battle prepared. 

First day of class on Wednesday, was generally peaceful and without event. Depending on your interpretation of this statement, a glass full of milk soaring across the kitchen and stabbing a hole in your brother’s shirt may not be considered peaceful; yet, we mother’s pick our battles and for all purposes it was a good morning.

Like always we had a small photo session of the ritual “Back to School” pictures, which at 7:30am, went quite well.  My little peeps were now laughing, and more than willing to throw a few smiles and goofy looks my way.  I was pleased with what we had taken, and were now ready to head out the door.

Organized chaos fluttered about the school as kids scurried about to see which class list they were on.  Once again, there were tears, laughs, and grumpy sighs.  This year, the boys were delighted with the teachers they now had, and ecstatic to find their friends were in the same class as them.  You forget how stressful the anticipation can be for both parents and kids.  “The List” sets the tone for the entire year and can make or break the next nine months.  I look up and whisper, “Thank you”.  Feeling the boys and I had paid our dues two years ago, the heavy weight was lifted off my chest.  Happy boys, happy little girl hugging her brudders good-bye, this was good. 

With a short trip up the road Little G was happily at daycare.  It was then I sat in my car in a moment of silence.  We did it.  Rain, drizzle, two boxes of Bandaids, three tubes of Polysporin,  four pairs of flips-flops and a helmet later… phew!    It made me feel great to see the three kids hobble off without a hitch. Do I ever LOVE those stinkers!  Happy kids make for a happy Mama!  Grade 5 and Grade 3 with Kinderstart in January…where did the time go?