random

A couple of days ago I gave Jr one of my graduation announcements. He immediately asked what gift I wanted and I said a party. He said he'd get the keg. I said okay. He said really? I said yeh, sure, I love cake. Slight misunderstanding that was.

I learned years ago that a major factor in overcoming depression is getting adequate sleep. Perhaps an abundance of sleep. So I accepted the prescriptions and seemed to be sleeping abundantly. Some of the drugs caused intense, weird, wild dreams. Not really nightmares so much, just wild, colorful, high-speed rambling dreams. Changed to different sleep aids which seemed to help me drop off quickly, stay asleep all night. But a few months ago, I realized I don't feel depressed anymore. I feel good. But tired. Even though I was nearly comatose for eight hours every night. And seemed to have that one thing, what is it called? Oh yeah, amnesia. Couldn't seem to remember anything. A couple of weeks ago, I realized that while I might be asleep, I wasn't getting the right kind of rest. So I took myself off the sleep aids. It was a rough couple of nights. And days. But now, I feel sleepy at bedtime, I fall asleep in my bed, I go back to sleep if I wake up in the night, and I wake up feeling ready to be up. And I've started dreaming again. Not the crazy drug-induced hallucinations. Just regular, normal, let's work out some of the day's stuff during sleeptime dreams.

How great is it to be watching Madmen again?

On Tuesday night, we watched the drummer's percussion ensemble perform. We've noticed over the years that every level of learning brings a huge jump in performing ability. This performance was a clear indication of that increasingly better ability. While I enjoyed watching him play the timpani, and it was entertaining to listen to the ensemble on marimba and xylo and all of the rest, clearly the favorite of the evening was the number that had a kid sitting on a chair in front of two tables full of "instruments" with two percussionists at each table. The kid in front mimed while the percussionists played the various instruments--electric pencil sharpener, manual typewriter, book slamming shut, chains rattling, balloons being rubbed, wood being sawed...and on and on. He showed me the musical score after the concert and it was all there, the type of note with the type of instrument. So creative, so well done, so fun. So could have listened for hours more.

On Wednesday, we watched the drummer's wife perform her senior recital. Oh.My.Heck. That tiny little girl has an amazing, beautiful, full-bodied soprano voice that made me cry when she started singing. It was (overused word alert) AWESOME. She sang one song in Italian, then two in French, three in German, one in English (based on three poems by Emily Dickinson), and finished up with two in Spanish. Oh.My.Heck. What a gift. What work. What training. What a great way to spend a half an hour. Wished again that it didn't have to end.

And here we are. Easter weekend. Family time here we come.