I have reduced three boxes of paper chaos to two tax returns.
I have put up my sister and family (the psychic scars will eventually fade).
The Volvo was rear-ended by an idiot uninsured driver, but managed to escape with only a cracked decorative grill.
Sair's neck had a small pulled muscle, but she is recovering.
I have been trying to throw out, recycle, freecycle, Goodwill donate, and generally organize vast quantities of stuff for weeks.
Somehow it never seems to really impact the amount of just stuff here underfoot.
And anyway, poo on all that.
We also did some fun stuff.
We took Sarah up to a flute master class with James Galway.
There is a swell video of her playing in the teen flute choir with Sir James, but Vox won't upload it because Vox hates me.
So, imagine I have posted that here, and I will keep trying.
What is cool, other than that there is my kid playing with James Galway (even if she is off in a crowd) is that there he is, accompanied by about 30 teen flautists, and you still hear him playing.
And he is just that good.
Anyway, we then went back up to hear him play, and brought my niece who was staying with us for the week.
I managed to direct us to the wrong place.
It wasn't in Napa, as I had thought, but further up the road at a winery in Callistoga.
I was really looking forward to driving into Callistoga in the early evening, and stopping strangers to ask the way to the Castello de Amorosa.
But then we saw the sign up on the highway, and found this:
And Sair and her cousin fit right in:
It was a tiny venue — we were in the back in row R, in a very lovely, open-air courtyard, with swallows and hawks flying around over the hills beyond us as the sun started to set and the music going up into the sky.
Somehow, though, I can't help but wonder how all this perfectly lovely newly-built faux medieval stuff strikes a European.
I found it great fun, and very pretty though silly.
And the music was gorgeous.