Budding Composer

I must now dig into my rapidly dwindling savings to unearth nearly $10K for an earthquake retrofit. I did one twenty years ago but recently learned that it’s not complete or up to today’s standards. Since I don’t have quake insurance, this is crucial. Over the past few months I’ve met twice with a structural engineer, name of Scott, and last week had an appointment with him and his contractor, Mario, to figure out exactly what needs to be done.

Right on schedule, Scott arrived at my front door. “Mario will be here soon. He always shows up after I do.”

As we walked around back into the basement, I said, “It’s nice to see you again.” He smiled politely but said nothing.

Ginna: When did you grow your beard? I don’t remember it.
Scott: Uh, I’ve had it for a while. I guess I haven’t trimmed it lately, though.
Ginna: That must be it. I thought you looked different but it’s hard to tell with the mask. And how was that trip you took recently?
Scott: I haven’t gone anywhere lately. Well, my wife and I went to Hawaii last year.

As we stepped into the basement, he looked around.

Scott: “Interesting. I haven’t seen this space before.”
Ginna: “Oh, I guess it has been a few months since you were here.”

He looked perplexed. “No, actually, I’ve never been here before.” He paused and added, “You know, it seems maybe I’m not who you think I am.” An unnerving remark when you’re alone in the basement with some dude. 

With my signature eloquence I stammered, “Uh, so, then… who ARE you?”

Of course it was Mario, whom I’d never met, and not Scott, whom I had. I should have figured it out by a simple process of elimination, but my brain temporarily froze. I clearly need to pay more attention to faces, or as much of them as I can see these days. I also have to listen better. What he’d actually said at the front door was that Scott, not Mario, would be there soon. Ack. After that, we got on like a house on fire (uh, maybe not the best metaphor here?), with passionate agreement about the former president.

Speaking of visual acuity, I thought this puzzle would be easy-peasy, on account of I went to art school, took a color theory class, and even have some original, hand-screened ColorAid paper left over, so I’m competent in distinguishing subtle gradations of shade, tone, tint and hue (though apparently not facial variations).

Dream on. After a frustrating week, this is as far as I’ve gotten, and I’m not having one bit of fun. Nasty thing.

Last week Ember endured two final molar extractions, including another deep-rooted adult one that was a challenge to remove. After it was over and I was allowed in, the doctor once again praised the little one for her bravery. Em, prone in the chair and still groggy from the nitrous, reached her wee hand toward mine and formed a half a heart with her fingers so that I could interlace mine with hers to shape the other half. There have been no complications to date (tap wood) and the work that they began in January is complete at last! For the last few days I’ve been cleaning gore-drool off pillows, sheets, PJs, blankets and quilts, but I think that part is behind us as well, and she’s not been in a bit of pain. Luckily, these dentists that Eleni hooked us up with are exceptional. Now Em and I are learning new ways to keep both of us cavity-free, since of course I, too, have serious challenges with my ivories.

Her homework freak-outs may be getting a little less frequent: down to one every week or so, and they don’t generally last as long as before. Progress! She’s still doing weekly math tutoring via Zoom with an incredible woman Eleni found, whom Em adores, and that’s been a life-saver. And I’m still doggedly pursuing additional educational support for her through the school and Kaiser. I’m lucky to live in an area where such resources are abundant, if slow and frustrating to access. Every day I remain grateful to Eleni and Jason for making this sacrifice for her. A new temporary guardianship form for the 2022–2023 school year is pending a notary, enabling her to finish elementary school here!

Five sessions in, Em is still enjoying piano lessons. She got inspired to start because one of her new friends plays, and also because she enjoys picking out familiar tunes (her current obsession: Minecraft music tracks) on my piano. So I got the name of her buddy’s teacher (Jason), whose backyard studio is a short walk from our house. From the first, Ember chose not to have me come into the room with her. Instead, I wait in a camp chair in the driveway outside the door where I can hear muffled voices and piano notes through the walls as Jason accompanies her on her exercises. Every now and then I get an extra aural treat as he flies off on a bit of Für Elise or another classic. For the last two weeks, Ember has even been practicing, most recently polishing her rendition of a beautiful six-second melody that I love. After this week’s lesson I asked her teacher what the song is called. “You’ll have to ask Ember. She made it up.” I was stunned. It’s so pretty. And now, under his guidance, she’s working on expanding it. Not only is he a talented and accomplished musician, but how cool that he’s such a flexible and creative teacher that he doesn’t impose some prescribed methodology on this energetic and original child. 

It’s been a long time since I added to Bloggy’s collections of malapropisms, mixed metaphors and other quotations, so before I leave you it’s time for two more:

Ma read a NextDoor post, in which a man describes a kind stranger paying for his coffee. “The jester just made my whole day!”

And one AirBnB host describes his rental property thus: “This large unit is above a three-car garage providing incredible views of the pastor from your very own private deck.” Praise the Lord.