April is the cruelest month

"April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land"
T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

Spring has always been a stressful time for us. Since Peter always needs to have instruments ready to show at the international early music exhibitions in early June, which he then delivers to his customers after the show, he is always under a lot of pressure to have the instruments finished in time for the varnish to dry properly before he goes. This year he also went to a show in Japan, so he was under even more pressure to finish.

It has always been a busy time for me too, due to the annual rhythm of major art exhibitions, for which catalogue texts and PR texts need to be translated. This year I have been working on an especially large exhibition project with a team of translators, but since things didn't quite work out as planned, by mid-April I had a crisis on my hands.

So ... no blog updates since March.

Fortunately, Peter was able to take Paddy with him to Japan, which Paddy enjoyed so much that he is not at all happy about being back in Linz now. Fortunately for the rest of us, he took a lot of pictures and put them up on Facebook, so that we could all follow their trip and comment. I think Paddy has a different link, though, so that people without a Facebook account can also look at them.

Last weekend I was at a conference in Vienna, trying to finish the last translations in between listening to interesting lectures and talking with interesting people, so I wasn't here to say good-bye when Peter and Paddy left. It felt odd coming home to an empty house, but then Christopher and I had a good time together at the Crossing Europe film festival.

The film festival ended on Sunday, Peter and Paddy got home Monday evening, and now it is already the last day of April. I still have a number of translations to finish, but everyone who has sent me translation work this week has specifically pointed out that they don't expect me to be working on May 1st. Spending International Workers' Day working would be a sacrilege that I don't intend to engage in.

So now we have a long weekend to enjoy as we start a new month that will hopefully be more enjoyable than the last.

Some days are like that

Some days are like that. Some weeks even, and in this case maybe even the whole month. Maybe it was the extra day that threw everything off. In any case, I have the feeling now that I’m not quite sure how we have already ended up in March.

The past week should have been a return to “normal life” after the semester break, but not only was the semester break not particularly refreshing, nothing has been running “normally” this week at all. A large part of that is probably to be blamed on Godot. Christopher’s friend Alexander has been working on a production of “Waiting for Godot” as a kind of final project for school, and since he enlisted Christopher, Sascha and Paddy as his cast, we have been living with Godot for some time now. Monday evening there was a long and intense session of learning lines in the living room, and they performed the play on Tuesday and Wednesday evening and during school on Thursday. It was altogether a very impressive performance (more pictures from Sascha’s father Filip Cortes here), but in between being on stage, of course the boys were not capable of taking responsibility for anything else – such as housework or schoolwork.

Peter has been largely absolved from household responsibilities for some time, because he is under pressure to finish the next instrument to take to Japan, and on top of that he has had to deal with unexpected complications with the networks he administers. His attention needs to be focused elsewhere now. Altogether, however, this leaves us a bit short on “somebodies” to notice what needs doing and take things in hand.

February ended on Friday with an extra day that probably wasn’t really quite enough to be of any use to anyone, but it also ended with confirmation of our shared priorities.

Christopher had been invited to present his own writing again at a poetry slam Friday evening at Posthof, an important performance venue in Linz, so Peter and I planned to go. At some point Peter phoned and ran through a list of about fourteen different errands that he planned to take care of on the way to Posthof, which I didn’t bother to question, because when Peter is multitasking to that extent, he is also convinced that he can stretch time and I know from many years of experience that there is no point in arguing with him. Before Peter showed up to get the car and set out on this marathon, however, Seth came in limping and obviously in pain, so I told him to sit down and let me look at his foot. I know this is the conventional course of action to take, it’s just not particularly effective in my case, due to my significant lack of practical skills. If a problem can’t be taken care of with a hot water bottle and/or a cup of herbal tea, I start running out of ideas very quickly. Fortunately, Seth is sensible enough that even pain didn’t cloud his thinking too badly, so together we figured out that something cold on his foot would probably be a better idea than a hot water bottle. Thanks to Moni, we even have a medical ice pack that permanently lives in the freezer, rarely used except when Francis comes to visit during cold weather and we decide to defrost the freezer and use the ice pack to keep the contents of the freezer cold on the balcony.

Peter has always been in charge in case of injury or illness in our household. Once the situation has been assessed and treatment measures determined, I can take over with sympathy and patience, but I have always needed practical instructions first. When Peter came rushing in Friday evening, I told him that before he did anything else, he should look at Seth’s foot. Peter being Peter, as soon as he had looked at Seth’s foot, he quickly rearranged the schedule to include a trip to the hospital emergency room on the way to Posthof.

Somewhere along the way Paddy noted that our car demonstrates a remarkable ability for transformation: along the way it morphed from a family car into a transporter, a taxi, a bus, an ambulance, a sound system and back into a family car again. This was reassuring too. That is actually the reason why we have a car, so that it can be put to use whenever and wherever it is needed.

Hospitals are strange places. Time seems to have a different quality there, a different rhythm apart from the rest of life in the world outside hospitals. Being caught inside this different rhythm seems to put things into perspective.

As Paddy and I found ourselves staring blankly at a large screen displaying whatever happened to be on Austrian television with almost no sound (I’m not sure which was scarier to watch, the dancers with artificial smiles and without music or the medical drama with what was obviously an unsuccessful operation), while we waited for Peter and Seth to come out of the examination room, Paddy said he was beginning to remember why we stopped watching television. I think he is right. Following extensive poking and prodding of his foot (“Does this hurt?”), Seth let Paddy persuade him to sit down in a wheelchair to be transported to the exit, while Peter went to get the car. It’s probably a good thing that Paddy is not interested in driving a car. I don’t think that pushing a wheelchair is likely to be an ideal career option for him either.

In the meantime, Christopher had received the message that we would probably be late getting to the poetry slam because we were at the hospital, but in the end we only missed the first two readers, and Christopher was the sixth. Christopher didn’t win anything this time, but considering how much energy he had put into a very different performance for three days running before that, I think he did a good job. All the people reading were extremely good, and it was a very enjoyable evening, even though Peter and I were not terribly impressed with the jury this time. I’m glad that Christopher has become involved in this.

Standing in the doorway watching for Peter to come with the car and looking back at Christopher, Paddy and Seth standing together inside, I had the feeling that as crazy and out-of-control as our life seems to be sometimes, the values and priorities that we share in my household are right. And that is a good thing.

Sweet Sixteen

Paddy on the guitar
Originally uploaded by aderieg

As of yesterday, 19 February 2008, Patrick would now be old enough to get a driver’s license, if we lived in the US. Since we live in Austria, he is now legally permitted to drink alcohol. To be honest, I am rather relieved that Patrick is not interested in either of those possibilities. Living with Patrick is fascinating, occasionally challenging, always interesting, and it gives us enough to think about without having to deal with the more commonplace concerns of the parents of sixteen-year-olds.

Such as labels, for instance ...

When Peter and I came home from New Year’s Eve celebrations relatively early, about one in the morning, we realized that we were not the first ones home, because there was a yellow Post-it sticker on the door to our flat announcing “I am home”. We went in quietly and saw that not only were Patrick’s shoes there, but there were also more Post-it stickers: on the mirror (“I am a mirror image of myself”), on the telephone (“I am irritating”), on the light switch (“I am light”) ... This was a bit surprising, but we didn’t pursue the matter immediately.

When I got up the next morning and went into the kitchen to make coffee, I realized that these labels were everywhere. On the freezer (“I am cold”), on the refrigerator (“I am the creator of life”), the door to the television cupboard (“I am propaganda”) – literally everywhere. This was more than surprising, it was actually slightly unnerving. Following the trail of yellow labels around the house, I found the last one above the bed where Patrick was sleeping: “I am not sure.”

When Patrick got up later, he seemed rather surprised himself, and he was not able to explain the labeling action entirely coherently either. He had apparently started with the intention of leaving a note for us and it just went on from there, so that was how he had spent New Year’s Eve at home by himself, when we thought he must be having a good time at a party. Since then, some of the labels have shifted (I recently picked something up and was startled to find it labeled “I am an angel”, but then I realized that it was lying where the manger scene had been during the Christmas holidays, and the angel was obviously not returned to the cellar with its label still stuck to it), others are still in their original position (the hall closet: “I am mysterious” – perhaps slightly more promising than one of Patrick’s previous descriptions of our chaotic hall closet as looking “a bit abstract”). No one seems to know what to do with the labels, so we just live with them for the time being.

Then, of course, there is the perennial and increasingly acute problem that Patrick is bored with school, tired of the relentless pressure of schoolwork, and impatient to be finished and off and away on his own. None of the conventional arguments for why he should stay and finish school really seem to apply, but now he only has a little over a year left, so it seems – at least for the moment – like a good idea to stay and finish.

Patrick’s wanting to set out into the world on his own impresses me now again and again. When he was little, his greatest fear was that his chaotic and careless family might lose him somewhere in the big world, which led to numerous crisis situations. He projected this fear onto a very tiny little cuddle animal, Liony, which meant that looking after Liony, especially when travelling, became a matter of extreme urgency. Liony has been fished out of the Danube, snatched from a London taxi about to dash off, wandered the length and breadth of transcontinental airplanes, played hide-and-seek among the furniture of various homes and hotels throughout Europe and North America. Keeping up with an adventurous creature that small can be quite stressful. At some point, I made a “Liony-finder” out of a key chain that beeped in response to whistling, which was attached to Liony with a tiny collar. Apart from the minor glitch that Patrick hadn’t yet learned to whistle then, this was a very helpful device.

The other night as Patrick was feeling a bit low and said he would rather be a lion like Liony, I found it my sad duty to break it to him that Liony is not, in fact, a lion, but is actually a tiger. A very small tiger. Now that Patrick has meanwhile gotten some sleep, has new batteries, and has now turned sixteen, I am confident that he will be able to bear this revelation with equanimity. Seeing Patrick happy, confident, overflowing with ideas, I feel certain and reassured that – with or without Liony – Patrick is in no danger whatsoever of losing himself anywhere in the big world.

Simultaneous rewind and fast forward

A few weeks ago, Paddy suddenly decided to play the guitar. This was a mildly surprising new development, but that’s the way Paddy does things. He just does. With guitars lying around the house readily available, his cello background, his long Martian fingers and long golden hair, and his lovely singing voice, it was clearly not at all a bad decision.

Paddy playing the guitar, however, has plunged both his parents into some confusion, as we find ourselves unexpectedly confronted with old memories of our own respective experiences and the jarring realization of how life has changed at the same time. Peter showed Paddy some chords and how to figure out chords from listening to songs, which Paddy naturally picked up very quickly. Yet whereas Peter spent a significant portion of his younger years hitchhiking around Europe, especially Ireland and Scotland, playing on street corners for enough money for a bus, a ferry, or just something to eat, meeting and playing together with other musicians to exchange lyrics and chords and learn new skills, Paddy did not respond by packing up a guitar and his rucksack to set out hitchhiking around Europe. He just opened a browser and connected to the Internet. With his years of experience with participating in online forums, Paddy quickly found an online forum for exchanging lyrics and chords that people have figured out from listening and signed up on the site to participate. In principle, it works the same way that Peter and I both learned new songs from other people, just faster. Much faster. Much, much faster. And despite all the concerns about young people on the Internet, it is probably safer than hitchhiking too, even though it was my old guitar that usually got me the best rides in my hitchhiking days.

Then there are the songs Paddy plays – Tom Waits, Van Morrison, The Flying Pickets ... songs that also tap straight into long forgotten memories, vividly recalling people, places, situations that seem to be from a different world, a different life in any case. It really is hard not to just melt into a soppy mess of sentimentality hearing Paddy and Peter singing together a particularly soulful rendition of “No Woman No Cry”. If Paddy decides to start singing songs like “Raglan Road” next, I will probably need a plentiful supply of handkerchiefs. Since he is not quite even 16 yet, I can’t imagine what Paddy might associate with all these songs, but perhaps that is what makes the way he sings them all the more poignant.

In addition to Paddy’s guitar playing, last night Christopher and I went to a book presentation with readings from a new book about the history of alternative music in Linz since the late seventies. It was a pleasure to see so many people I have known for such a long time (to the extent that I can actually “see” anyone these days), the readings were delightful, and it was a pleasure to see Christopher’s amusement as he compared the descriptions of then with his own experiences now as an active participant in the young music scene in Linz today. I also enjoyed telling Christopher some of my own stories on the side, but when Peter got hold of the book this morning, he was naturally moved to recount even more extensive alternative and supplementary histories. An argument immediately ensued about who would get to read the book first – although I was the one who bought it, I never even got to stake a claim.

As the past and the present collide and overlap, however, I’m thinking there are probably any number of things that children simply don’t want to know about their parents’ past, just as I doubt that I really want to know everything about my children’s present.

Not quite as planned

When I got up Sunday morning I found a text message on my phone from Patrick: “What was the name of that dead guy?”

They had obviously reached Portbou by Sunday, and by the time I contacted Paddy they had also remembered that the “dead guy” was Walter Benjamin, and they had found his grave and put stones on it as a token of respect – one for me as well.

Several hours later Peter received a text message from Paddy announcing: “I just shook hands with Bobby McFerrin”. It seems that Bobby McFerrin was, in fact, the first person they met when they arrived in Barcelona, and Paddy was so impressed that he actually ran after him to talk to him and shake hands.

It was a promising beginning, but unfortunately things didn’t work out too well for them in Barcelona. Christopher called me yesterday morning, and just hearing his voice I immediately went straight through the ceiling in a blind panic. It seems his rucksack was stolen in Barcelona, when two guys involved the boys in a complicated discussion in Spanish, so that they didn’t notice the rucksack being taken until it was too late. Once I realized that no one was sick or injured and Christopher still had his passport, ticket and bank card, I calmed down a bit. Traveling without clothes, a sleeping bag, camping gear, or the guide book listing camp sites and youth hostels is inconvenient and replacement will be an additional cost that we didn’t need, but the only thing in Christopher’s rucksack that is truly irreplaceable was his notebook with all his texts for his music.

After some consultation it seems that the group decided to split up then, with Christopher and Paddy heading for England and the other three going on to Finland. When last heard from, they were all somewhere in the south of France, but Paddy and Christopher are trying to get to London. They called yesterday afternoon and asked me to book a ferry for them from Calais, where they were to arrive at 9:30 the next morning. It seemed like a reasonable plan to me, but it turned out to be not so simple ...

In fact, it is not possible for a 15-year-old and a 17-year-old traveling together by themselves to cross the English Channel by ferry. Anyone under 16 must be accompanied by someone over 18. I considered lying about their ages on the reservation form, since Christopher can easily pass for 20 at least, and Patrick neither looks nor behaves like a silly little kid, but I didn’t want to risk a problem when they had to show their passports. In the end, we were able to book a cheap flight for them, where their respective ages are not a problem, but the flight was from Brussels to London, so we had to communicate to them that they would have to go to Brussels, not to Calais, otherwise they wouldn’t make it to the airport in time. Since the charger for Christopher’s phone was also in his rucksack, he hasn’t been able to charge his phone, and Paddy’s is starting to run low now too, so they both had their phones off. That was nerve-wracking, since it was too risky to book the flight without telling them, but finally Peter heard from Paddy again, so it seems they are all set now.

If all goes well, they should be in London late this afternoon with Francis, so they can finally get some sleep and a decent bath without having to worry about everything else being stolen. Then I’m sure they will soon be on their way again, as despite this setback they seem to be enjoying their trip very much.

And they're off ...

Ready to go
Originally uploaded by aderieg

(More pictures here)

Over the past few days I have had some serious doubts about this trip, but they are on their way now. At 5:10 this morning Paddy, Christopher, Sascha, Alex and George were on the train together headed for the first stop of their three-week interrail trip: Venice.

We had something of a crisis on the weekend, when we went with Christopher and Paddy to the train station to buy their interrail passes, and it turned out that Sascha already had his – but starting 24 hours too early. However, we had the amazingly good fortune of finding exactly the right person in the right place at the right time: the young woman working at the information desk at the train station was enthusiastic, helpful, extremely competent, but also with a wonderful sense of humor and an ability to think creatively. That was necessary in our case. On Sunday we went back again to see her, because she had told us when she would be working, and Sascha, Alex and Seth went with us. She managed to change Sascha’s ticket, so that he, Christopher and Patrick would all be leaving on the same day on the same train going to the same place. This was no mean feat. Between Paddy-type mathematical calculations and all the boys trying to talk at the same time and the constant switching of languages, I would not have blamed her at all, if she had run away screaming in despair. Alex waited patiently until everything was sorted, so that he could buy his ticket in the end once we all knew how it was supposed to work. I had the feeling we almost lost the woman then, though, when she had all the forms and all the information and just needed Alex’ passport – and he handed her his British passport. After a few deep breaths, however, she dealt with even that glitch quite capably.

One source of confusion that afternoon was the fifth person in the group. We had explained to the woman from the beginning that there would be five boys traveling together, and there were five boys at the train station Sunday afternoon, but unhappily, Seth was not planning on being part of this trip and the fifth person, George, was unreachable. So every time the number five was mentioned, it set off yet another chorus of lamentations that Seth would not be part of the group and another round of consternation that George had unhelpfully disappeared. In the end, Peter and I just couldn’t live with this situation, so we took Seth aside and asked him whether he might be able to join the group if we bought an interrail pass for him. Unfortunately, he has a summer job that he seriously needs to keep, so he couldn’t just leave for three weeks.

How do five teenage boys prepare for a three-week tour of Europe by train? They spend hours arguing with one another about who has not communicated which information coherently and rejecting advice from concerned meddling parents. Naturally.

Yesterday afternoon, when I found Paddy and Sascha staring blankly at a video game (I think it is one that only Paddy can win, so no one else ever wants to play it with him – Sascha is not usually interested in video games), I could not begin to imagine how this would ever work. Then when they started practicing setting up and taking down their tents in the garden, however, I had the feeling they were actually beginning to look surprisingly competent. After that they started packing rucksacks. Sascha had already packed at home with his real family, who had left that morning for their holiday, so he and Paddy worked together on Paddy’s rucksack, while Christopher attempted to talk his belongings into organizing themselves in the other room. By the time Paddy and Sascha were finished, the total volume of his rucksack appeared to be equal to – if not greater than – the total volume of Paddy himself, just stretched sideways. Nevertheless, Paddy gave us an impressive demonstration of how agilely he could move with this wide load on his back and even did push-ups to prove that he could carry it. Once Christopher had finished negotiating with the limitations of space inside and attached to his rucksack, we all went off to Stern together for a good-bye drink.

When Paddy started fading, he and Sascha decided to go home, while Christopher and I stayed behind to talk a bit. When we got home around eleven, I expected to find Paddy and Sascha sound asleep with their alarm clocks set for 3:30 am. Instead I found them in front of the computer happily planning their trip with Google Earth, Wikipedia, various maps and a guide book to “Europe on a Shoestring”. Better late than never. Five hours before the train leaves is obviously the very best time to plan a detailed itinerary for a three-week tour of Europe.

Actually, it looks like a very good plan, and I am relieved to have a copy of it so that we have some idea of where they are likely to be at various points over the next three weeks. They even promised to stop in Portbou and visit the monument to Walter Benjamin there for me. This plan along with a list of at least my contacts in various cities makes me feel a bit more secure.

Peter was surprisingly cooperative about leaving early for the train station this morning (it is quite clear that this group doesn’t do “last minute rush”), and even though it took some time to get all three rucksacks to fit into the back of the car, we were there almost at the agreed time of 4:30 am in front of the information desk at the train station. That is, Christopher, Paddy, Sascha and Alex were all there, but there was no sign of George, and everyone had given up guessing whether he was actually going to make it or not. We waited for a while and then went to the platform together, and just as the train was announced, who should come strolling down the platform – George made it, at least onto the train.

About two hours after they left, I got a text message from Paddy that he had forgotten to take his braces that he still wears at night, so I checked their list and sent a message back to him that when they get to Barcelona he should call my friend there, whose number is on his list, I would send the braces by express mail to her. Sending the braces by express mail to Barcelona turned out to be staggeringly expensive, but at least we have proved that the plan works. So far.

I don’t think I got enough sleep to feel fully functional now myself, which makes me wonder how the boys are doing with no sleep at all. I still have this odd feeling that something is different, but I haven’t really grasped that they are gone yet. I think I will be glad when they are home again.

Seth and Paddy bake a cake

Seth and Paddy bake a cake
Originally uploaded by aderieg

For some mysterious reason, Paddy and Seth decided to bake a cake today.

There has been a lot of talk about cakes recently, because in the play "The Last Days of Humanity" that most of my household is involved in, there is a horrible scene where the "officers" eat cake as they sign execution orders, and while Sascha is being marched off to be executed, Alex is sent to fetch the cake. As all the extras have different responsibilities for props (Christopher is in charge of the prostheses), Alex is responsible for ensuring that cake is there every evening and that it is edible, because one of the "officers" does actually have to eat it. This has not always worked out very well. For that reason, there has been much discussion of cake among the extras that come and go at my house, and Sascha baked a cake himself that he brought to the performance the other night when I went again.

However, that was not the reason why Paddy and Seth decided to bake a cake today. They may know why, but to my knowledge no one else does.

For a long time, Paddy enjoyed decorating American style cakes, although he was less interested in the actual baking part, so he still has a lot of cake decorating supplies that Grandma, Amy and Kris sent to him over the years. Seth and Paddy together were surprisingly efficient (although I think it is mostly Seth, who is second only to Peter when it comes to household efficiency): they checked the recipes, went shopping for the missing ingredients, made a breathtaking mess in the kitchen and on the table, and finally ended up with a cake intriguingly decorated with a picture of a voodoo rag doll and no mess.

They stood for a moment rightfully admiring their work, and then Paddy said cheerfully, "Right, let's eat it then. Who wants a piece of cake?"

Everyone who was offered a piece of cake was a bit startled and questioned whether he really wanted to eat the cake immediately after going to so much trouble to make it. Paddy naturally asked, "Well what else should I do with it?" Naturally he took nice pictures of the cake to go into his collection (although I have no idea where his collection of cake and marzipan figure pictures is now), and it was not intended to be taken to the play, so eating it was the obvious thing to do.

That being the case, I made tea and we sat down together at the table to eat the cake. Once he actually had a knife in his hand, however, Paddy suddenly found it surprisingly difficult to cut into it after all. Eventually, though, we had cake with our tea, and it was very, very, very sweet. Since the recipe for the icing is written in Grandpa's handwriting, Paddy was thinking about how nice it would be to be able to share the cake with Grandpa, who would probably actually appreciate it, so Seth got hear all about Grandpa as we ate cake.

It is not a very big cake, but I somehow suspect that it is not going to disappear as quickly as cake usually disappears at our house. Nevertheless, it was an interesting way for Seth and Paddy to spend the day.

More pictures (just mine, not Paddy's) here

Enough Food for the Last Days of Humanity

This morning I had to rush to get to the shops in time before they closed at noon, but I just made it. At the butcher's shop, when the woman started packing everything up for me, I had the feeling I had bought enough to feed a small army. Then I realized that I actually need enough food to feed a small army.

Literally a small army.

A considerable number of people from my permanent and extended household have been cast as extras in an elaborate production of a play called "The Last Days of Humanity", which opens on July 18th. Although Paddy is playing the role of a newspaper boy proclaiming one victory after another as the world falls apart, the rest are all cast as young soldiers in World War I.

So while Peter is exploring ways to defy the laws of physics (or at least Austrian traffic laws) to fit all these young "soldiers" into our car to transport them to rehearsals, in between rehearsals we also need to feed them, at least some of them, at least some of the time. In addition to the exchange student from South Africa who is staying with us one more week, someone mentioned in passing this morning that the boys' friend Seth from Ghana is also moving in with us starting this weekend. It is a good thing that school is over now, so we don't have to worry about everyone getting a shower in the morning by seven, but getting everyone out of the house by ten is probably still going to be tight.

As far as the coming week is concerned, we figure we will simply deal with whatever happens, whatever needs to happen. While everyone else is busy preparing for The Last Days of Humanity, I will be relinquishing all household responsibilities to assume responsibility for all the women coming from all over the world to take part in the Eclectic Tech Carnival. Since bringing the Eclectic Tech Carnival to Linz was my idea to begin with, I figure that makes me responsible, although I am extremely grateful to the wonderful women I have been working with, who are actually making this happen. I just make noise, but the others actually get things done.

But now at least we have enough food for a small army and The Last Days of Humanity, so we are all set.


Addendum: I have been practicing taking pictures with my phone, and I'm not very good at it, since I can't actually see what I'm doing, but since I started a Flickr account for one of the projects I am working on, I have been putting some of them there. Pictures of pancakes for part of a small army tonight: here

Paddy in Linz Again

Paddy got home last night after three weeks in Thailand. He arrived bearing gifts (lots of gifts – his Thai host family was overwhelmingly generous!), full of wonderful stories about his adventures with strange food and the intricacies of communicating without a common language or point of reference. Although he seemed to find delicacies like fish stomach and soup with legs a bit challenging, his enthusiasm for fruit in Thailand is boundless. He has also developed a rather surprising interest in Buddhism.

He seems to have somewhat mixed feelings about being home again. "Home" – meaning school, Linz, Austria, the people here – is too limited, constraining, and he is getting impatient to be out in the world on his own, making his own choices and decisions. It is reassuring, however, that he still likes his family and he is happy to be with us again. I have the feeling, though, that we have just about reached the point where we need him more than he needs us.

With Paddy's wonderful sense of humor and the gift he has developed for telling stories, last night I realized how very privileged we are to have him come home and share with us his experiences and observations.

He might yet write something for this blog, but for now he needs to just go out walking around Linz. As impressive as it sounds to be driven around everywhere by a chauffeur in a car with at least one TV in it, he missed being able to just walk around by himself. Linz may not be the most exciting place in the world, but living here at least affords him a large measure of freedom that he can appreciate better from the experience of not having that freedom.

SQUEAK!

Did everyone hear a loud squeak last Wednesday?
That was the sound of Christopher passing French this year.

Yes – deep breath – he passed. Not exactly with flying colors and certainly not without a tremendous supportive effort on the part of a substantial number of people, including Peter, Paddy, Sascha, our former neighbor who teaches French at another school, Christopher's French teacher ... But passing is passing, so now he does not have to spend the summer preparing for another exam at the start of the next school year again, but is free to set out exploring Europe by train.

Now Christopher, Paddy, Sascha, Alex and George – that's right, five boys aged 15, 16, and 17 – will be travelling all over Europe for three weeks in August by Interrail. I think it's a kind of "coming of age" ritual in Europe. Whenever these plans are mentioned, the faces of everyone we talk to, no matter what age they are now, light up with pleasure at the memory of their own Interrail summer as a teenager.

At last, after three years it looks as though we may finally be able to enjoy a summer again!

This Week

I need to get rid of this stupid bug that seems to have taken up residence in my sinuses now, because there are a number of exciting things coming up this week that I want to enjoy.

First of all, it appears that we may have to see about renting a bus or something to transport a substantial number of people to Salzburg Friday evening. Of all the films entered in the competition Instant36 by about 70 film teams from Germany, Austria and the Czech Republic, 25 have been selected to be screened on Friday in Salzburg, where a jury and the audience will select a winning film. One of these 25 films is by the – according to rumor – youngest entrant: Patrick J. Derieg. There were some 20 people involved in making this film, and a number of other friends and supporters would like to be there too, but we can only fit five in our car. Even if Paddy’s film doesn’t win a prize, to make it into the final round like this is an impressive achievement – this is something to celebrate!

On Sunday we will start celebrating Christopher’s 17th birthday a day early at the Sunday film brunch. Will he pass French, if we keep watching French films? Since Monday is a public holiday and Tuesday is still a school holiday, Christopher plans to celebrate with his friends at a cafe Monday evening. He said there won’t be too many people there – only about 30.

In June Paddy leaves for Bangkok for three weeks, during one of which Peter will be in Boston for the Boston Early Music Festival and Exhibition, leaving just Christopher and me at home. I think one of us may have to learn how to cook.

Touching down at home base

We have all been busy recently, but for the moment we have all touched down at home base to regroup, so to speak.

Over the weekend I was in Vienna taking part in an exhibition and a day of presentations. I was so nervous I was in pieces before I left, but in the end I had a great time, and I think my part actually went surprisingly well:
cyber feminism past forward
There were so many cameras there that I assume pictures will start showing up eventually.

A few hours after I got home Sunday afternoon, we all went to the train station to collect Christopher returning home from the European Youth Parliament in Potsdam. At this point Christopher is still wandering around in zombie mode, but he did manage to post a brief account of his experiences there:
Christopher's comment
He also brought home the last issue of the little newspaper that was produced there every day, in which he was named as "the most unique delegate". I think it may be safe to assume that he made something of an impression. He also mentioned that the Irish delegates liked his tie, which I like to imagine would please his Grandpa.

Peter is working hard, of course. He is always especially busy this time of year, when he has to finish instruments to deliver in early summer. A photographer spent a day in the workshop with him, though, and has produced some nice pictures:

Peter in the workshop





Meanwhile, Patrick has been busy at home. At some point he took it into his head that he wants to be a barbershop quartet. All by himself. He is not quite there yet, but he has in fact – rather surprisingly – managed to turn himself into a trio:


So life goes on ...

Thanks to everyone who asked whether we are all back yet and how we are doing!

Mr. Mozart

Yesterday was the last day of school before semester break, but Paddy slept late and missed most of it. When he did get up, he looked well rested and cheerfully announced, "Mozart is dead and I'm free." I think that probably also applies to my entire permanent and extended household in general.

Looking with some dismay at my inbox, I find it somewhat difficult to comprehend that the rest of the world has simply gone on about its business without us, as we were all thoroughly engrossed in the life and death of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart – over and over and over again in recent weeks, but especially Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday evening last week, when Paddy performed the role of Mozart in a very elaborate and ambitious school production of "Amadeus". Most of the teachers and other parents who know Paddy as someone who is usually very quiet and reserved, were quite startled by his lively performance. He really was very convincing in his role, but I don't think it was entirely a matter of accident or good direction: in fact, he actually does have an almost uncanny ability to instantly memorize and reproduce any melody that captures his attention and to spontaneously invent variations on it. Watching the first performance from the audience, Christopher also recognized his brother's personality traits that can be both delightfully funny and also excruciatingly irritating – like his sharp wit and his occasional impatience with people who just don't get it – and said he would have been happy to have played Salieri and had an opportunity to murder his brother on stage, as he recognized how Salieri felt.

However, I was also impressed with Paddy's acting skills, especially in dealing with unexpected occurrences, such as when "Constanze" started humming the "March of the Toreadors" from "Carmen" instead of the theme from a Mozart opera that was supposed to be his cue, or when "Salieri" mixed up the names of the women. When Paddy made his first appearance on stage the first night with his hands in his pockets, I was horrified to realize that if he took both hands out of his pockets at once, his pants would simply fall off. He did an excellent job of playing that he was just too cool to take both hands out of pockets even when meeting the emperor, though. And as thin and frail as he looks, his portrayal of Mozart's decline and death was quite convincing and heart-wrenching (I'm obviously a thoroughly impartial and neutral critic!). At the end of the play every night, though, when a large dark figure appeared to carry the "corpse" away, it was all I could do to keep from shouting, "Be careful, Raoul, don't drop my little guy!" Poor Paddy ended up battered and bruised enough from being tossed around all over the stage as it was.

For the last two performances Christopher played a minor role as one of the "Venticelli", the gossip-mongers and extras in various scenes, and he was much happier being on stage than in the audience. As small as his role was, he certainly made a striking impression with his comic delivery, apparently reminding a surprising number of people of the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" with his make-up, which he was in no hurry to remove later.

I didn't expect this play to consume our entire life as it has, especially over the past two weeks, but it has been an exhilarating experience. Nevertheless, I have to admit that I am also relieved now that Mozart is dead and we are all free again. Tomorrow night we are going to another play to celebrate Paddy's 15th birthday on Monday, which seems a good way to start the well deserved and needed semester break.

In the meantime, I need to start catching up again on work and other commitments.

Cinderella sons

Today at lunch Patrick announced that he had managed to get a ticket to the school ball on Friday after all. I have to admit, I had not realized before that this was actually an issue, but I was pleased that he is pleased about it. The ticket he got, however, is for a couple, so it appears that he will need to persuade his on-stage adversary and real-life friend to go with him and be prepared to convince the person checking tickets at the door that two boys can be a couple. Even in Austria.

The next complication is the question of shoes. Both boys got nice suits from Opa last weekend, which they are very happy with, but the suits are not enhanced at all by tennis shoes, and only Christopher has a pair of nice black dress shoes. Even if these shoes actually fit on Patrick’s enormous feet, since Christopher will be performing at the ball, wearing his own suit, he needs to wear the shoes himself (assuming they still fit him).

So now both of my sons are going to a ball on Friday, but they only have one pair of ball shoes between them. This could be interesting.

Changes

Tonight "Mozart" and "Salieri" are rehearsing their lines in the living room, which they plan to continue doing until they have to go to school for an extra rehearsal in the morning, and Paddy's friend Vedad is supervising. I think Vedad is probably the most patient human being I have ever met.
In the meantime, I'm hiding in the computer room, and since I just switched to the new blog software this evening (not that I had a choice, not that I'm particularly happy about it), this seems like a good time to check that it is working, so ...

Speaking of changes: here are two pictures taken about ten years apart. Notice the differences?



Only in the quality, right?

Busy days ahead

After going through the calendar with the boys the other day and marking fixed dates on both the online calendar and the one hanging on the wall in the hall, and we now have some impressively large blocks coming up.

February: Paddy plays Mozart in the school production of Amadeus, then Paddy turns 15, then we have semester break, but I have not yet been informed of any major traveling plans at that time.

March: Apart from my birthday and Peter's birthday (although I think I might just skip mine this year), Christopher is going to Potsdam as one of the Austrian representatives at the European Youth Parliament. This could be interesting, he just found out that he is expected to wear a suit there. We need to check that his still fits him, and he says he will take Grandpa's Irish tie with him and just make sure it doesn't come untied. Fortunately, one of the girls going too from his school knows how to tie a tie, just in case. And I like to imagine that Grandpa would have been delighted to hear about it.

Christopher returns from Potsdam just in time for Easter break and a little over a week before our exchange student from Bangkok arrives. Less than a week after that I leave for a workshop in Naples for week, during which Patrick will be in Berlin for three days with his class. I trust Christopher will do a good job looking after the exchange student from Bangkok. I return from Naples just in time to for the opening night of The Tempest (on Shakespeare's birthday) with Christopher as Caliban. Then we have a week of film festival in Linz.

May is not looking too full yet. We just have Christopher's birthday and three public holidays. Christopher probably has gigs coming up, but those aren't on any calendars I see yet.

Then in June Patrick goes to Bangkok (not with his class, but with a small group picked from several classes), returning only just in time for the last week of school the beginning of July. And presumably some time in early June, Peter will be in Boston. In addition, for at least part of the time when Patrick is in Bangkok, we are supposed to have at least one, probably two South African exchange students staying with us. Despite the difficult experiences Paddy and his classmates had in South Africa, we were all very happy to hear that the school there is getting organized to be able to send the kids here. I told Paddy to assure his teacher of our full support in looking after them, even though Paddy will be gone most of the time. Christopher is good at looking after people.

As soon as school ends in July, my three men will all be busy with a theater production until the beginning of August (I think), but we are hoping that Daniel and his family might come in late July/early August.

Somehow I have the feeling this year is going to go very, very quickly.