Today is Gamma’s birthday. It is the perfect day to have a birthday – a holiday every year, without the gift penalty people who have a birthday around Christmas suffer. It is being celebrated at Minopolis, an establishment in Vienna set up like a sort of indoor city where children can work at various jobs and earn and spend minopolis money. Kids around Gamma’s age (10 today) like it. Gamma generally comes home with blue hair etc because they have a beauty salon here too. You can have birthday parties here, which is what we did. For a mere arm+leg a bunch of kids get a cake, and drinks, and snacks, and can run around doing this stuff while parents hang out in the lounge which has WIFI and blog or whatever. The whole mess stays here, is the big attraction for us.

Gamma just ran past on her way to the television studio.

Sunny out today, little cold though. Apparently I’m barbecuing this afternoon when relatives come over.

More precisely, I’m barbecuing chicken this afternoon. And sausages. I’m not actually barbecuing this afternoon. It would be cool if one could barbecue a time of day though, wouldn’t it. Afternoon would be the time of day I would choose, too, I’m always so sleepy then.

Orchestra camp was nice. I really admire the teachers, who are so good at what they do, and so motivated and dedicated and such nice people; but also the kids themselves, who are good musicians and fun to be around, for humans.

I managed to be a little less shy and more social this year. That was nice.

And the concert went well. I totally disneyed just about every song, but at least managed not to ruin anything. And listen: Beta played a solo. Handel. You should have been there. The harp was right next to the cellos, so I saw it all. The orchestra’s first tune was a Vivaldi, no harp. Then came the Handel. Beta made an entrance. She has dark hair and pale skin, Beta, like a 1940s movie star, and the orchestra sat there and waited as she walked in, slowly, relaxed, good posture, and sat down. And we played. And she had her solos. And then the number was finished. I looked into the audience and a woman was crying.

I forget where I was going with this. Kids get older, maybe. You live in dread and worry, but things can go right, maybe. You can fear a hypothetical future, but look at this moment. An iris is blooming. Your child has touched a stranger’s heart.

I forget. Forgetting is so easy. I forgot when our wedding anniversary is. I had to search my blog to remind myself. Relationship tip: never ask your spouse. Sheesh.

Forgetting is so easy. I think you have to let go, of course, but still remember.

I used to be quite the luddite. Until both my daughters were born prematurely and I was suddenly a big fan of medical technology. And now look at them.

Christ, now they’re all here in the lounge arguing over whether to go to the toilet or the bakery and can they stay half an hour longer.

My point is, I guess, no point. I got up Sunday morning and went outside for a walk and thought, it can’t get any better than this. Then a beautiful blonde cellist with a goofy smile wished me a good morning from her window, where she sat eating an apple and reading Hesse and I was all, actually, it can get better.

That’s the thing: no matter how bad things are, it can always get worse; but no matter how good they are, they can always get better, too.

Like I said, no particular point. Happy May day.