Double Jinx

M and his buddy C had another performance this past weekend. It was at a multi-band show that was, unfortunately, poorly attended, but included some pretty sweet sound equipment, lights, and even a fog machine that gave the place that seedy bar feel.

A couple of members of the band that came before them tag-teamed on playing drums for the boys, since they have yet to find a drummer for their band. They played some of their standards--"Smells Like Teen Spirit," "Black Blood" (a Double Jinx original), "Blitzkrieg Bop"--and added in a few that I hadn't heard them play all the way through yet (some that, perhaps, I'd never heard all the way through even on the radio, which didn't stop "Enter Sandman" from running through my mind when I lay wide-awake at four in the morning Sunday night...and no, I did not appreciate the irony).

Every time they play, I'm just astounded by their confidence, poise, and skill. The two of them get together almost every Saturday and learn and practice songs, some of which they have worked on with their teachers, some of which they figure out on their own, and some they write from scratch. It's the ultimate in self-directed learning. Since the beginning of the school year, I had been fretting that middle school wasn't really challenging M, but now I see that it's really a gift for him to have the time free of homework to focus on something he's really passionate about.

After Double Jinx finished their set, we stayed and watched the really loud band that came after (don't worry, he has earplugs on under that hat). Watching M onstage in his hunter orange cap reminded me of this:

He wore that fuzzy orange hat for three winters straight--indoors and out. Despite the hat, I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around those two boys being the same person. How did we get here from there? And will I be looking back at that boy on stage one day, wondering how he got to be the man he will become all too soon?

Weekend Things

I was pleased to come home Friday to a copy of Kindred in my mailbox, with my essay "This Good Field" in its pages. I've been enjoying the gorgeous photography in this issue, and reading bits and pieces of poems and stories here and there.

We spent a lot of the weekend recovering from our vacation––trying to catch up on laundry and housework and sleep.

I had been hoping for a go-nowhere weekend, but places to go  piled––Halloween parties and soccer awards parties.

I'm afraid my inner Halloween curmudgeon is rearing its head this year. I made a conscious decision to not even think about Halloween until we got back from Colorado, and then after we got back I still didn't want to think about it. So just before they headed off to their school party on Friday night, I sent E and Z up to the dress-up box to come up with some kind of costume. And then I did the same Saturday night before we headed off to a family party. Quite possibly the same thing will happen again Thursday night before we go trick-or-treating (I figure after 28 Halloween costumes I deserve a break, don't I?).

Sunday morning, I took a little photo tour of our yard and garden.

We still have lots of gorgeous Swiss chard (and calendula I never harvested...or ever will harvest),

And carrots. 

Later I clipped all those broccoli leaves and put them in this soup (substituting veggie sausage and broth) and they were surprisingly delicious (all their strong broccoli flavor cooked out, and left behind lovely-textured greens).

Z and I went on another 5K walk.

He opted to walk along with me this time (worn out, I think, by running around with brothers and dogs at Saturday night's Halloween party).

We stopped and peeked into this graveyard on our road that I've hardly ever even noticed before.

I don't know if it's the weather, or the transition to school, or we're all tired out from last week's vacation, or I'm just being cranky, but the boys have been driving me crazy lately. They fight constantly and are being really defiant.

(I actually said this to them Saturday. "You guys are driving me crazy!" And Z said, "Then why did you have three kids?" And I said, "I don't know!" And E yelled from another room, "You love us!" It provided a moment of comic relief, but only a moment).

M had a gig Sunday afternoon...performing with his buddy at a local bar. I have to say he really knocks my socks off. I know he's my kid and all, so I'm biased, but wow.

In the midst of it all, I'm trying to squeeze in some writing time. I have a few weeks left to finish my thesis. I've revised ten stories and run them by my mentor once. He says they're "good enough" for the thesis, but has provided a ton of suggestions for revisions to get them ready for publication. While I'm happy to be a "good enough" wife, mom, housekeeper, friend, employee, blogger, etc., I'd really like to incorporate as much of the revisions as possible before turning it in. I just need a magic time and energy spell.