Sitting, facing East.

My fiddling is coming along and I am working hard on it, far less doofus factor now. (Doofus factor is what I feel when sitting holding my violin as if posing for a painter when in a room full of people busily playing tunes on their violins which I can play in a room by myself).

Now for FiddleCraft I'm learning:

• Vals Fran Skane (Efter J. Bruun f.1818)

and our class is visiting Ceol Alba (Wellington's Scottish Music Group) so I'm learning two slow airs for that:

• Sarona (James Scott Skinner; is he a relation of mine or that behaviourist's, I wonder?)
• Sitting in the Stern of a Boat (Rev. William MacLeod)

and I'm trying to work out

• The Eagle's Whistle (the same version as Iris plays).

Other than fiddling, the rest of life is interesting. A week ago Iggy Hop, the rabbit who is neither dead nor new, had a seizure.

"Mummy! Come quick! Iggy's fighting with nobody!" called Iris as soon as Hazel drew her attention to him,

"Coming!" I knew it was a description of a seizure, Ruth described the cat's final throes exactly the same way.

"What's he doing?" asked one of their cousins, who couldn't see,

"Dying, probably," I replied, dourly.

The four girls and I scooped him and Moonlight Midnight "Moon" up and whisked them off to the vet (he had another seizure in the carry-box and it bounced across the kitchen floor). I rang as we left and by the time we got there the vet had already looked up rabbit's seizures. Apparently he probably has a brain worm, and likely Chickpea died of having its friends set up shop in her kidneys or some other quick-to-kill organ. Now he and Moon have a month of a special worm medicine and otherwise seem fine.

Hazel and Iris ran the Cross Country. Iris came 2nd in her group (Year 2 girls)! Hazel finished despite a sore knee. Or nearly, it was hard to see the end and she stopped just before the official finish line.

Hazel's Circus School is going well, I like her learning tricky tricks!

We are making Iris practice playing the harp every day for a bit and hoping it doesn't put her off more than it makes her feel capable and competent. Iris's harp teacher Kitty has given me two amazing things above and beyond a child to play me beautiful music. One, the notion that one should listen to a song until it plays in one's mind before learning to play it. The other, an impetus to practice: she told Iris to practice every day when your Mum plays her fiddle.

Sean and the girls are now steering the horses they are learning to ride.

I have been reading Cornelia Funke and James Thurber; I wish he had a blog.

Ooh! There's the oven timer to tell me to get the wheat from Iris's fish-shaped wheat-bag back out of the oven because it should have recovered from its washing now.