My quiet weekend

With my husband and youngest son out of town, I figured the house would be quiet. I vowed to spend the weekend getting work done and maybe even cleaning the house.

But then students asked me to judge a talent show Friday night. I can never say no to students. I was amazed, as I always am, by how talented our students are: they did comedy routines, they sang and played guitars, they danced, they read poetry. One of the coolest acts was a young woman who danced in the darkness, while whipping around a hula hoop that sparkled with lights.

By the time I got home, my older kids were arriving home for the weekend. “We need to get work done,” my daughter said, setting up her laptop. Boy-in-Black arrived with both his laptops – well, computational physics is what he does. Shaggy Hair Boy’s project for the weekend was making vegan lemon-poppy seed muffins for his girlfriend as a surprise.

Skater Boy and Thinking Girl came over to try out the muffins, which were a great success. The recipe called for powdered sugar, which Shaggy Hair Boy had dutifully bought and sprinkled on the muffins. Of course, there was leftover sugar, and that somehow led to the Powdered Sugar Game. Shaggy Hair Boy and Smiley Girl each put a spoonful of powdered sugar in their mouth and then – on the count of three – breathed out big puffs of sugar into each other’s faces. By the time they were finished, they were both covered with white.

So I spent the morning hanging out with my kids – none of us got any work done – and then my friend Signing Woman picked me up for a Saturday evening road trip. “I brought vegan snacks,” LovesAnimals said when I got in the car. So we munched on brownies as we drove through the countryside, all the way to Gorgeous City for a concert by the “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” Guy.

It was an amazing performance: I loved the way the singer kept joking around with the pianist and bass player, improvising like crazy. He thumped his chest for a percussive sound and rubbed the microphone against his shirt. He invited members of the audience up to do some interpretative dance, and the dancers were amazing. He managed to get the whole crowd singing, “I can see clearly now,” and it sounded really great.

“What impressed me the most was how talented the audience were,” said one of my friends later, when we were gathered, the six of us, for drinks and dessert before the drive back to Snowstorm City.

I didn’t get home until about 2 am, which made for a lazy Sunday. I made beans and rice in the crockpot and talked to the gang in my living room. Film Guy and Sparkly Eyes were in town, so they came over. By then, the lemon-poppy seed muffins were gone, so they had to content themselves with slices of the oatmeal-raisin-apple bread that we refer to as Healthy Bread. Luckily, all the powdered sugar had been brushed off the furniture because Shaggy Hair Boy was putting on the black pants and black shirt he wears when he plays with the jazz ensemble; they were playing at a hotel downtown.

Now it’s Sunday night, and my quiet weekend has gone by. I haven’t done even one bit of work. I guess that’s what Mondays are for.