November 7, 2003

• The Level of Sound

  
  

  The boys are gone to school, Tim is gone to work.  It's very  very quiet in my house.  I've learned over the past week what my dishwasher and laundry machines sound like.  Oh, I've been running them almost non-stop for years, but I never before heard that high musical hum when the washer goes into the final spin cycle.  I've heard the sound of my fingers typing on the keyboard, and the sound of the cat sleeping. 

  
  

  A little while ago we (that would be the dog and I) heard a low rumble.  In curiosity we went outside and watched attack helicopters from Fort Knox fly over our hill.  They do that periodically, but I don't usually hear their approach far enough in advance to walk outside before they are gone. My day has become sharply divided into two zones - the quiet and the supersonic boom.  When the kids come home from school, sounds bounce and echo and build and grow as they play and squabble and tell me about their day. 

  
  

  This weekend there will be a different level of sound in my home.  Peals of feminine laughter, the music of distinct regioanal accents, and the rhythm of writerly talk served around my table.  Yum!  It's my turn.  Last April, Faith hosted a gathering at her home.  In May, Natasha showed us around Atlanta, and this weekend, we are gathering on my little hilltop in Indiana.  From teh time we began meeting and talking and writing together, we have all three undergone tremndous changes and growth as writers, friends and people.  This book may take on an entirely different shape after we have come together this weekend.  Certainly, the shape of sound in my house will be transformed. 

  
  

  In school news, my boys are adjusting but its still very difficult for them.  Tucker had his worst day yesterday.  He woke up at 5 crying and begging me not to send him to that place.  He offered that if I would just let him stay home with me, he would do TWO lessons of everything, even the hated reading.  My heart was bruised, but I held him and hugged him and talked to him about how he could do this thing, and I took him to school.  He clung to the armrest of the seat in the van and I had to pry him out the door.  When he came home last night, he was laden with notes from his teachers about his behavior.  He lost his recess yesterday, and he learned that if he failed to bring those signed notes back with him this morning, he would lose his recess again.  Ay yi yi.  And this is only the first week . . .

  
  

  I spoke with the school counselor yesterday.  They've completed the achievement testing on the boys and so I'm to go in Monday and meet with school personnel about the results.  We talked about some of the patterns that they found which are the same things that I've already known.  Both boys are very good in math.  Both have specific (although different) language issues. 

  
  

  Michael met with the counselor and she asked him if he had any questions.  "I have three."  He says.  He asked the first question which was easily answered.  Then she asked him what was his second question, "I think I'll save number 2 for last."  I think he did eventually ask and receive answers to all three questions. 

  • 9:17 am
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