The Transition Week

I believe that summer begins on Memorial Day and ends on Labor Day, and I strongly adhere to that schedule each year.  This year, however, I have realized the importance of the “transition week” in getting myself from pre-Labor Day, when my life revolves around lakes and sailboats and sleeping until 9am if I want to,  to Post-Labor Day (when people actually expect me to do some work).  Maybe it’s because I have had such a whirlwind summer; The America’s Cup started Memorial Day weekend, lasted 5 weeks and brought 4 sets of houseguests.  In the middle of that I played a full recital with an entirely new program.  Then Paul and I finished teaching and we had our three-week staycation filled with beach picnics, snorkeling, swimming, sailing and a plethora of fun social events on the island, followed by Chicago to see my family (there were definitely s’mores–YES!)  A week of camp in Boston, 2 weeks of camp in Maine, and then our road-trip to Baltimore, Charleston and DC.  I have spent the last 3 days at our condo in Boston basically comatose. I am ready for the new concert season to begin, and yet my brain has turned to mush.  I know that I have been practicing, but the lack of routine always throws me off and makes me feel like a total slacker.  But as desperate as I am to get back to that routine, if you told me the season started tomorrow, I think I would fall to the floor, curl up in the fetal position and start crying, because I’m not READY!!!

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Thus, ladies and gentlemen, “The Transition Week”. Continue reading

Eclipse or Bust

When Paul heard that we were going to be at a friend’s wedding in Baltimore two days before a total eclipse was due to occur in Charleston, SC, he informed me that we would, in fact, be heading south to witness this incredible feat of sun and moon.  I tried to explain to to my dear Englishman that, although they might LOOK super close on a (small) map of the US, Charleston, South Carolina, was in an entirely different part of the USA than Baltimore, but there was no changing his mind. He was determined.  He pulled the “But I’m a SCIENCE teacher” card, and I had no choice.  He booked what might have been the very last hotel room in Charleston, ordered us some of the very last over-priced eclipse glasses and that was that.  And so I found myself in our trusty CR-V last Sunday morning, slightly hung-over and too tired to argue, being driven 600 miles south from Baltimore, to see this spectacle of nature with my very own eyes. Continue reading