Monday, March 30, 2015


That's Boshsquash right there. Or, as Juanito spells it, "Bosh-Quash." We haven't nailed down the particulars yet. Either way, she's a sweetie.

Emma would very much like to be her "friend." She stands at the cage and watches. And whines. Poor Boshsquash. Between Emma and Buttercup, i can't imagine that she's thrilled about the new home. A giant dog who wants to "play" and a bratty guinea pig who wants to make sure everyone knows that she's the boss. Hopefully it'll get better....

So last week, Houston informed me, "Well, i found my saxophone, but apparently someone dropped it down the stairs or something, because it's all broken."

So. Many. Questions.

Turns out, he couldn't find it for a few days (and never bothered to mention THAT), and then found it hiding back in some corner. It wasn't working properly, but he had no actual evidence that it had been tampered with. I told him to show his band director and have him look at it.

The next day, he said that he showed it to the director who said, "The octave key is broken. Go sit down." Houston asked what he should do, and the director answered, "(Shrug) I didn't do it." I asked Houston, "But...those weren't his actual words, right? He was...nicer about it?" And...nope. According to Houston, that's exactly what he said. I've not been a big fan of this director already, mostly because Houston went from LOVING band under his previous director to asking (several times) if he could quit band altogether because he didn't like it AT ALL. (Katrina doesn't really like him either, so it's not just Houston.)

ANYHOW. Today i brought the saxophone in to get it looked at, to see how broken it actually is. Turns out! Not the octave key at all! Not even remotely! It just needs some basic maintenance that, according to the lady at the store, needs to be done every year or so, and it's been two and a half years, so it's definitely due. "Right now, he could play the top parts, but the bottom third is completely unplayable, so...." So we're getting it fixed.

And scowling in Mr. Director's general direction.

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