The oldest of the fine young gents, who's five ("Five and a half, Mom!"), and I went to a concert this morning. The Oregon Bach Festival offered a children's program entitled "Happy Birthday, Mr. Mozart". I expected something along the lines of a little music, a little information about Mozart, a little sing-along maybe. We got so much more. A pianist and an Emmy-winning storyteller put on a show that was engaging and entertaining for kids and parents. Not only did we get what we expected, we were treated to Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky, learned a bit about recorders, and we heard an original poem and some really punny jokes. ("You think that joke's bad, but you'll tell it later," insisted the storyteller. I probably would if I could remember any of the jokes.) My wiggly gent was bouncing in his front-row seat, thrilled by the whole thing. So was I, for that matter. Thrilled, that is. Maybe I bounced a little too.
After the show we walked two blocks to the Saturday Market. We shopped a little (bought some tie dye, naturally) , looked a lot, and decided we were hungry so we headed for the food. It took two trips around, looking at each booth, before we decided that maybe my adventurous eater should try something different and something familiar. He ate all of the seasoned tofu, leaving me to snack on his chicken with rice. While we ate we watched a bad magic show on the stage. Ok, so the guy wasn't so bad, he just needed to work on his patter so that we'd be distracted from thinking about what he's really doing. But hey, I think figured out how to do that rope trick!
Across the street to the Farmer's Market for some berries. My gent was entranced by the guy playing cello on the street corner. Fascinated. We ended up sitting on the pavement listening, munching on mixed berries. I'm not big on sitting on the pavement on a hot day, especially in a skirt, but it's worth it to indulge this love of all kinds of music. Listening to a musician on the street corner is a different experience that hearing music on a CD or going to a concert. It's accessible in a different way. We sat and listened because I want my budding young musician to see that music doesn't always happen on a stage. Music isn't just for folks with recording contracts and agents. Music happens wherever there are musicians to make it. Well, honestly, we did stop to listen for those reasons too, but mostly because we were enjoying the cello. If I'd had a picnic blanket or a camp chair we might have stayed even longer.
Oh, and we bought flowers. Most often I walk by the beckoning flowers and think with regret, "Not today." Too frivolous. I can't eat them or wear them. This day we decided together that flowers will give us happy hearts. Especially golden sunflowers with cheery faces.
Once home the day turned into normal busy weekend family time. We went to a kid festival. It was a typical kid festival, hot and noisy, with crafts and bouncy castles and free prizes. The kids got to sit in a fire truck and a helicopter. That was way cool. Of course, I forgot the camera. Despite the missing camera we all had a fabulous time. We capped off the day with grilled steak and corn, backyard golf, and warm berry cobbler with vanilla ice cream.
Doesn't get much better than this.