Mom and the littlest kids are visiting (“the kids”, in my family, means Josh, Frank and Beka, and “the girls” means Liz, Em and me), and this evening Beka and I staged a ballet of Aaron Copland’s Appalachian Spring, with a bit of help from Josh, who sat on the sidelines with a flashlight in order to provide a spotlight.
We made it up as we went along, but the major theme was that Beka was the flute, piccolo and oboe; I was the violins; and Josh provided comic relief whenever the percussion hit. This arrangement made for endless possibilities. At times, Beka and I were the little and big fairy who both woke all the animals and flowers up and put them to bed at night. Other times we were the little farm girls running off to play in the sunshine. Josh was the miner going off to work in the morning, the big farmer riding out to survey his wheat, and even a tin soldier marching off to war.
Our only audience (besides the half-involved Josh) was Mom, who occasionally stuck her head in while stir frying dinner, and Andy, who was a bit bewildered to find his wife and 7-year-old sister-in-law pirouetting and doing stumbly arabesques around the living room.
It was a lovely evening.