Culture Club: part deux, pas de deux, deus ex machina

We had another Week of the High Culture last week.

On Tuesday we went to a Houston Symphony performance with our Classical Conversations group. The theme was The Science of Sound. The lanky, charismatic conductor was entertaining as always. The kids were attentive, even Helena, though she did get a little wiggly towards the end (maybe Tchaikovsky just makes a girl need to wiggle)and I have a small bruise on my chest where she inadvertently head-butted me right on top of the small silver bell necklace my mom gave me for Christmas. Quite painful. Then we hiked all the way back to the car only to discover that Hudson had left the small stuffed turtle that I (very, very unwisely) allowed him to bring. He couldn't remember WHERE exactly. Then he and Harper both burst into LOUD wailing when I said, as callously as I could muster, "Well, he is GONE because you were CARELESS Hudson," because the turtle was actually Harper's and she had been (uncharacteristically) generous in loaning it to him. Apparently, Timmy the Turtle had whispered to her before we left the house that he really enjoys the symphony. So. We hiked back to the bathroom in Jones Hall to retrieve Timmy the Turtle. Because I am SPINELESS in situations like that. I know.

On Friday we attended another student performance by Houston Ballet students and again it was marvelous. The theme was "Dancing in Texas" and, while the first dance, which involved dancers encased in stretchy knit body bags, writhing around in order to look like primordial amoebas (Carrie, Staci, Shelley--do you remember dancing in these bags??? To "Ghostbusters"? Because we DID.)was deeply disturbing both to me and to my friend Adelaide, the rest of the dances were beautiful and/or rollicking. There were no turtles left behind. Because there were no turtles brought. Because fool me twice, shame on me. Also, Grandmother Pate was able to join us and Helena was on her best behavior watching the "bow-weenas."

Then on Friday night the Daddy and I got gussied up and went to the Wortham for dinner and "La Traviata" with the Swanks and some (very generous) work colleagues of theirs. Here we are in our finery:I stopped at Walgreens to get a new memory card for the camera and I don't know what came over me but I bought some silver eyeliner. I haven't worn much makeup at all since Harper was born six and a half years ago, so she was fascinated by my sparkly eyelids, and asked several times for me to close my eyes so she could get a better view. Anyway, my sparkly eyelids and I had a tremendous time and, though I usually can't tolerate female singers of any variety, especially the very high-pitched variety, for very long, I thought the music and the singing were rather transcendent. I managed not to cry (spoiler alert! spoiler alert!)when Violetta was dying, but I wanted to a little. But maybe it was less about the music and more about the husband and the good company and just the almost overwhelming feeling of Deeply Grateful that I feel at moments like that. Perhaps it was also the cabernet that kept magically appearing in my glass at dinner.

I forgot to mention that in our rush to leave the house to get to the opera on time, I got into a wrestling match with the door to the coat closet, which is always stuck, and when it did finally open, it smacked me in the eyebrow. Hard. Then last night, I had Helena on a chair to help her out of a costume and she did an exuberant leap directly under my chin and my jaw seems to be somewhat swollen and possibly crooked as a result. Quite painful. So, if I lose consciousness in the next few hours, please direct the doctors to this blog post.

Also, Harper has another loose tooth and Hudson got some new running shoes. And he did his first reading lesson today! We're trying Explode the Code with him, along with Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons, I think. Well, that brings us up to date.