So... in case you had any doubts..  I've changed the imaging for this blog.
No, not that I'm trying to insinuate that any of you are lacking in eyesight and wouldn't notice the difference between the blue notebook and this pink... thing...  but  still, thought i should mention before all of you think you've wandered somewhere different instead.

though, i have to admit, as i was scrolling through page after page of stuff and eventually clicked on this one as a desperate just-for-now... i am highly amused by the top: The Mind of Spinning Jezebel...  and next to it a trash can.

huh.
don't laugh so hard, please.

On the exciting news?  I've begun knitting again.  I'm making a skirt out of the obnoxiously purple wool I bought earlier in the year for legwarmers.  It's only a waistband right now, but I've faith it'll grow if I don't put it aside and 'forget it' in a drawer for a few years.  And I'll finish my sister's black sweater, after all it's getting chilly again.  It's probably only a day of work left on that anyway.

Yitz the Ditz (ha!  thanks Angus) is acting scared.  He came to talk to me yesterday (stuttering, but calmly, as if pacifying a mad dog) being sure to stay by the door and not turn his back on me (for fear I'd attack, I presume.).  I got a brand new kit of theory materials, and he informed me that with the precious money given to him for staff training... he's going to use it for me.. so I can get trained by the woman who makes the materials we use.
Considering that's a $500-$600 class, I'm thrilled I won't have to spend my own money.  But naturally.. there's a catch.
I'll have to go to her, in DC. 

'Oh,' Yitz said airily, 'you can go for a weekend, or one day a month or something.'  He kept one wary eye on me, and when I stood up he actually stepped backward, flailing for the doorknob before he caught himself.  When I didn't say anything he went on: 'but you've got to have that done before February, because in the new semester there'll be three new theory classes that maybe you could teach... when I feel comfortable that you know how to teach, and when Madame M. (the creator of this method) feels that you know her materials..'  And his voice trailed off, possibly alerted to danger by the look on my face (step back Jim, she's still wild and may leap for the jugular!).  He rather hastily added at that point that Ellie, Dina and Lia will have class separately, and with me.  In fact, he almost seemed to have swallowed his tongue in having to admit that all my students do not hate me and that the violin class was a success last year.

I've still got quite a few things to say to Yitz.  I suspect that in his own awkward way, he's issued an apology by saying that they will pay for my training.  And I'm grateful (cause darned if I wanted to spend my own money on learning to play stupid card games.  Bloody hell!  I could never remember to play Go Fish and War with regular cards, and she wants me to do that nonsense with music terms?  OK, she's got some good ideas, and despite my skepticism the kids really learn.  But she's also got some ridiculous ones, and that's a lot of money to have to absorb her idiotic ideas, esp. since it will be in a one on one setting.).  But we've still got some talking to do, and I am quite annoyed still.

On a funny note: Lia's mom said that both Ellie and her mom felt that I was the highlight of Ellie's week, as Yitz is Ellie's private teacher and group teacher (so she has him for 2 whole classes..).  Yesterday, Ellie announced to the other children (entirely unprompted) that she LOVES theory, and she wishes she could have MORE theory homework!  (My DM flinched and said "she knows not to say that often, right?")  Ellie then spent her class sitting next to me (and not next to Lia and Dina, which surprised me), then inching closer...  closer...closer...  by the end of class, she was leaning on my leg and resting her round little face against my arm.  And then she flung her arms around me to give me a hug before leaving.  (what a sweetheart.)


Lastly...  (drum roll please)
Question:  can anyone guess what 11 scribbled steno pad sheets equals?
Answer:  a first draft of a story.  (beginning, middle scenes and an end.)

I'm back, baby...