(from 2011) Grand
daughter A, at the height of one of the better thunderstorms in years
last night, announced she wanted a sleepover with the grandparents. Her
mom and sister departed during a break in the storms and we all kinda
waited on pins and needles until they got home safe.
Turns out Abby has a bit of an issue with lightning and the following thunder - certainly something that most all 3 year old otherwise brave hearts have. I tried the "Gods are bowling" stuff with no reaction. We tried counting "1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi" to figure out how far away the lightning was but I have trouble with the speed of sound and the conversions and gave that up in a hurry.
We tried a good book and another and then something about some kid who looked like a rodent going with his grandfather to buy a brown striped suit, tie and shirt....she even thought it was bad. I tried the radio and although it didn't work at all, Gershwin's Lullaby was on the Internet. She went to find the dog who had fled the bed when I started the rodent story, gathered him up, and we stayed together and listened.
This piece is so New York in the 20s or so. It feels the city and isn't intended to put anyone to sleep but rather an ode of sorts to last call at Clancy's Bar or a cab ride after a rain - with streets glistening, puddles mirroring and night people cleaning for the dawn. I can see it in the music. Plain as day.
Turns out Abby has a bit of an issue with lightning and the following thunder - certainly something that most all 3 year old otherwise brave hearts have. I tried the "Gods are bowling" stuff with no reaction. We tried counting "1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi" to figure out how far away the lightning was but I have trouble with the speed of sound and the conversions and gave that up in a hurry.
We tried a good book and another and then something about some kid who looked like a rodent going with his grandfather to buy a brown striped suit, tie and shirt....she even thought it was bad. I tried the radio and although it didn't work at all, Gershwin's Lullaby was on the Internet. She went to find the dog who had fled the bed when I started the rodent story, gathered him up, and we stayed together and listened.
This piece is so New York in the 20s or so. It feels the city and isn't intended to put anyone to sleep but rather an ode of sorts to last call at Clancy's Bar or a cab ride after a rain - with streets glistening, puddles mirroring and night people cleaning for the dawn. I can see it in the music. Plain as day.
She could too as could the dog. They slept like angels.