It seems the summer is passing us by and I’m not documenting it very well. Brian headed back to good-for-nothing-but-potatoes-Idaho yesterday, and so perhaps I need to dedicate some of my quiet evenings to blog catch-up.
Brian’s return home two weeks ago was indeed wonderful, but was not particularly well-timed—the girls and I were getting ready to leave for a week into the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia for Suzuki violin camp. So we got one night home with Brian before we had to say good-bye. Another element of (good) craziness was added when my college friend, Chris and his family called to say they were going to be stranded for the night in DC and could they come bunk with us. We hadn’t seen Chris and Erin since our wedding and had yet to meet their three kids—we were delighted to have them! In the business of everything I didn’t capture any photos, but needless to say, Chris and Erin still look the same as they did nine years ago and their kids are darling. Next time, there will be Nertz!
So after visiting with the Holmes family, loading the van, stopping for Father’s Day Brunch at my parents (also not photographed), kissing Brian good-bye again, the girls and I took off for our violin adventure. And this deserves a significant post… because I survived it. I quickly discovered this was a bit ambitious to do myself. Bringing a toddler who does not yet honor performance etiquette-- lessons, classes and concerts were a challenge. Not to mention balancing trays in the dining hall and squeezing in nap time. One good aspect was that Ella’s friend Rekha came with her mother, Sangita and younger brother, Nevak--we were able to coordinate and help each other out throughout the week. Sangita and I agree the week was a two parent job.
So while I hope you enjoy the pics from our week, I'm posting these for me--so that when I have to make the decision of whether to do this again in 10 months, I'll pull up my blog and recall how beautiful the setting was and how much Ella gained from being there. Which was, of course, the point.
The venue was beautiful and remote. And I'll admit every once in awhile it's nice to be far enough away that a cell phone and e-mail are not accessible. It's a little unsettling at first, but then you settle in to a simpler life. So simple in fact, that kids run free everywhere and no one locks their doors.
We were one of a handful of new families this year at the camp. It seems that a core group comes back year after year and that families treat this as a summer vacation--in many cases both parents come with their children, while teenagers come on their own. Families and students remember each other and look forward to seeing each other. The camp has the makings for rich childhood summer memories with: a pond to catch frogs and tadpoles, big porches to stay up late talking, a candy store within easy walking distance, a big swimming pool, and lots of space to play sports and ride bikes.
Ella's schedule every day consisted of a private lesson, a group class and theory class. She also had a recital part-way through the week and then a group performance on the last day. I was worried we'd have too much free time, but it turned out to be more than enough. She was very tired by the end.
Preparing for her recital
He sure makes 70 look good. Don't you think?
Russ has been my father longer than my dad was my dad. Did you get that?
A nice way to turn 70, I think.
We were one of a handful of new families this year at the camp. It seems that a core group comes back year after year and that families treat this as a summer vacation--in many cases both parents come with their children, while teenagers come on their own. Families and students remember each other and look forward to seeing each other. The camp has the makings for rich childhood summer memories with: a pond to catch frogs and tadpoles, big porches to stay up late talking, a candy store within easy walking distance, a big swimming pool, and lots of space to play sports and ride bikes.
Rekha came to support Ella while Sangita stayed put with the little ones.
