School Days and Siblings

School started on Monday.

And ever since then, I've been poring over my Saxon Advanced Math textbook (and Solutions Manual) for hours on end. The ticket to survival? Let me tell you: Silence, very good lighting, a clicky pencil with endless life, and a particular cd of music, used by me since the start of highschool two years ago. That is, Uncommon Ritual by Edgar Meyer, Bela Fleck, and Mike Marshall. All things rhythmic, beautiful, and brilliant are to be found thereon: Bach, Sarasate (though this one's lost on most people, who like the violin version better), and Byrd, as well as a bunch of jazz and bluegrass and other beautiful new-age stuff (Sliding Down, In the Garden)...

It is incredibly suitable for algebra, geometry, trig, and so forth.

Unfortunately, if you're not a geek, you probably won't like it. Fric came into the room yesterday evening while it was playing, and ever-so-helpfully reminded me she shouldn't be listening to so much music (because Mrs. Kane said so). All the while, she was reaching for the "stop" button.

But anyway. We went swimming last night at the 'Y.' Frac, recently inspired by "March of the Penguins," informed me that he was a leopard seal and I was a penguin. "Leopard seals eat penguins," he told me. And then he attempted a sinister-looking butterfly stroke across the pool, all the while floating on his green noodle.

Have you ever been told about Fric's water antics? In the kid section of the pool (where the deepest part is... maybe four feet?), there's a place where Fric can't keep her head above water. And this place is right by the rope. So. On go her goggles, and out she goes, right in over her head. Then, grabbing the rope, she sinks under the water, and starts bobbing for air in "the Deep End."

Whenever we turn our back, there she is again. We drag her back to where she can touch bottom, but to no avail. The Deep End is the happening place. (sometimes she has a noodle instead of the rope.)

And here's another impression of school: the violin lesson.
Mama installed a practice record yesterday. And also, I've started scale studies. Seven keys, five positions, in three rhythm patterns: One, Two, Three, Four... One-and, Two-and, Three-and, Four-and... One-e-and-a, Two-e-and-a... All with a metronome going Tock, Tock, Tock, Tock....

It numbs the mind, but fills about half of my daily practice quota. o_O Handy thing, wot? Especially when Mama's monitoring the minutes.

And then, I've been put back on Fric's therapy duty. The funnest part was putting her on headphones. She has a specially rigged headset, and has to listen to Adventures in Odyssey every day. So yesterday, sensing her special interest in slapstick humor, I put on The Spy Who Bugged Me. I lay on the floor and read Matthew Henry, watching her burst into spontaneous giggles every few minutes.

Then there's the button-and-string routine. She has to hold a button between her lips and teeth, while I tug on it with a string. But being a faithful prankster, she'll put it behind her teeth when I'm not looking. ;P

Okay. One more story. In the W--'s latest batch of hand-me-downs, there was a pair of fluffy, feathery, shiny socks. Huge, pale blue things. Well, into my bedroom comes Brother2, looking for a pair of socks, because he doesn't have any. "Can I borrow some socks?"

No, there aren't any his size in Fric's drawer. Nor do I have any with sufficient elastic (in sufficiently ratty condition--see Perv's puddle-jumping post). So, to make him laugh, I offer him the fluffy blue pair. NOOOO! GIRLSOCKS!! He laughs, and runs away like the plague's after him.. (besides, he explained later, it wouldn't do to get them all muddy.)

And we fast-forward to later this evening:

"Libby, can I have your blue socks?" Brother2 comes in wearing them. "See...? They fit me."

So I let him wear them to bed last night. Silly brother.