It’s grey at the moment, although that can be a beautiful color too. Explaining to my teacher my impression that there are similarities between learning to ski and learning to play cello, and reducing my argument to increasingly general terms until we found a lowest common denominator we could agree on – they both involve motion, and motor coordination, and the “flow”: once you get going, you can’t stop until you’re finished.

The sky is grey, mornings are no longer as dark as they were, there were no deer in the grey field this morning, but someone had erected snow fences to keep it from drifting onto the freeway if it snows again. A dead black and white cat lay on its back by the road, but when I got closer it was just a lump of dirty snow.

Alpha left yesterday for a week in Japan, the grandparents are picking up most of the slack child-care-wise. Yesterday, I just came home late from cello (Beta was with me, she had harp) and ate what the mother-in-law had cooked (her delicious vegetable soup with sour cream, that alone sufficient reason to emigrate) and strawberry dumplings, and tried to get the kids in bed on time.

Main cat didn’t like the cat food this morning and went on hunger strike. The other two ate it. I hate to force him to, though, because he doesn’t hold it down if he doesn’t like it so I eventually opened a second can.

This morning I made the coffee too strong and could barely drink it. Gamma got up by herself, but too early so was tired and grumpy. She has quite an emotional range, all the way from euphorically kissing everyone to wishing she were dead. Only five and I’m already talking her out of, not suicide, but death. I know the feeling, and I know that you can’t just say, “Oh, no, you don’t wish that.” But I don’t always know what you *can* say.

Most of the time she seems happy, though; she illustrated a book on the weekend and we’re going to add the words tonight, although she’s already started. She’s very eager to start writing and reading.

Through all this, Beta is wonderfully normal when not achieving; fluctuating between mothering her little sister and helping out around the house, to tormenting the little one and being a slob; giving me spontaneous hugs and slamming doors.

It’s all excellent; choice, as the Peasant would say. The grey comes from not having my sweety around, I guess.

On an unrelated note, I really have to sell you the book the New Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain. I never got the pun of the title until I started reading the book. It’s interesting , and I promise it will help your drawing, unless you’re already amazingly good. I’m drawing better already.