Category Archives: Mr. Boy

Fiddling around

Post Violin Lab Workshop for adults (or Violin Camp, as Mr. B. called it) I’m looking for a live teacher. And I may have found one.

I have gained enormously from seven months of subscribing to Beth Blackerby’s Violin Lab videos and I plan to continue them. And also Todd Ehle’s free videos on YouTube.

Todd really ought to charge money. He’s awful good. But he’s in Corpus Christi and Beth likely is busy. So I’m on the scout for someone else. And, tentatively, I have one in James Anderson, a versatile young violinist who taught an improvisation clinic at the camp.

I’ll know for sure in August. I’m  keeping the fingers on my bow hand crossed.

Masada of the North

Not as photogenic as the Masada of the South, nor as dramatic to look at. But Gamla is green, or is during the spring and fall when it rains more. Remains to be seen what it’ll look like this Wednesday when I climb over its ruins for the first time. I stayed at the overlook on my first visit in March, 2011.

This is on the Golan Heights, which Syria claims despite losing it in 1973 in an invasive war they started. But there’s little development up there as the Israeli government still holds out the faint hope of someday trading it for a permanent peace treaty. Or as permanent as anything can be with an autocratic Arab state.

Gamla, however, dating as it does from pre-66 C.E., readily shows who owned it originally, as does the archaeology. It wasn’t Assad & Co. I  expect Mrs. C. and Mr. B. will prefer to watch for eagles at the overlook above the place rather than tramp the lone trail down there with me. This is a nature preserve. But we’ll see.

UPDATE:  Mr. Boy opted to go down the steep, rocky trail with me to see the oldest synagogue yet discovered in Israel. We enjoyed the visit. And it was a good thing he came. ‘Cause while he ran back up the quarter-mile trail like a mountain goat, I like to died getting back up it. Without his encouragement, I might still be sitting out there mumbling, “just a few more minutes until I catch my breath.”

Masada

Just one of the places we’ll be visiting in Israel, though by far my favorite. We’ll be riding the cable car to the top of the 2,000-year-old Jewish fortress and winter palace of King Herod in southeastern Judea. But I may walk down the “snake path,” the white line on the lower right. Takes an hour or so. As for the history, some is at the link above. Much more is in this very fine book.

UPDATE:  I didn’t walk down in the heat. I enjoyed the nice descent on the Swiss cable car, instead, with the breeze through the open windows.

Flying away

Mrs. Charm, Mr. Boy and I fly away early this morning for a 10-day vacation in the Promised Land.

No, not Texas. The one on the other side of the world. Israel.

It will be Mr. B’s very first trip out of the country; Mrs. C.’s third; and my sixth. See you again around July 2. Be good. Play nice, now.

Moms United

Finally…. After forty-one years of President Nixon’s War On Drugs, a group of mothers has organized—just as women did to help end Prohibition.

Their children have been imprisoned (or legally murdered) for nonviolent drug offenses and these California women want the political, social and law enforcement madness to finally stop.

MomsUnited: To End The War On Drugs

“It hasn’t saved anybody, it hasn’t changed anything, it’s created chaos in neighborhoods and shootings, it’s stupid….”

Amen. Happy Mother’s Day.

The aerial seat of ease


I didn’t take this shot. I wouldn’t. Mr. Boy did, soon after receiving a camera as a gift. He went pretty wild, snapping pictures of all kinds of things adults are so used to seeing that they hardly notice. Like this one on a plane going to visit family. Heh.

Early morning violin practice

Was tuning up my violin this morning, partly because I enjoy playing in the morning and partly because it helps get Mr. B. out of bed and on the way to school.

Then I launched into the strains of the new Scottish ballad I’m learning

How’d you like waking up to “My Love Is Like A Red, Red Rose”?, I asked Mrs. C later.

She replied: “At first, just at first you understand, I thought it was the garbage truck.”

Well, it was garbage pickup day. But still….