Sheldon Plays the Cello

Lovely Sheldon sent me a photo someone took of her playing cello at their recent wedding causing me to wax nostalgic on her affair with her instrument. When she was in 4th grade, the junior high music program gave a hard pressed pitch to the little budding musicians for a bigger cello section. Surely, she’d want to play the sweet, portable violin? Or perhaps viola? But no, she dug her heels in because she wanted to be unique, like I should have seen that coming. This is the same girl who took French rather than handy Spanish living in a state that borders Mexico.

Entering the world where the leader waves a stick to keep the little ruffians in line was certainly a learning curve. Who knew that instruments came in sizes, half, three quarter and full? Or that they have to compete to be first chair? Or those private lessons are the norm? The most embarrassing part was that as unskilled classical music parents we were always clapping at the wrong place. If you’re new to the world, just because the music stops doesn’t mean they're done, it’s the end of a mooooooovement.

I had to upgrade to a pickup truck with a full size crew cab for Pete’s sake. Heaven forbid our new expensive baby rode in the bed unsecured by a seat beat. The plus of the bigger vehicle is it could also fit her stinking golf clubs. We were never so happy as when she got her own freaking car to cram her stuff in so we could actually put our own junk in the backseat. The first 500 concerts were painful squeaky affairs, but by the time they creep along to junior high you begin to almost enjoy it. I have to say she stuck with it and in her sophomore year began playing in the elite high school chamber orchestra.

Her talents did score her a trip to Russia to participate in a Music Festival in Saint Petersburg. As usual, I was focused on all the wrong stuff. The cello needed its own passport, too many snuck out of the country and we didn’t want Sheldon to be arrested by stealing a national treasure. The week before she went, eleventy zillion people froze to death in Moscow from the worst cold streak on record, but she refused to pack long underwear, it would involve too many panty lines under her concert skirt. And finally, St. Petersburg has some weird bacteria in the water, Europe’s answer to Montezuma’s revenge. The kids ended up fighting like Survivor contestants over fresh bananas. After having eaten smoked and freeze dried food, she begged us to make her favorite meal on her first night back.

Beef Stroganoff

1 pound beef stew meat

½ cup flour

Salt and Pepper to taste

3 tablespoons olive oil

2 cans beef consommé

1/2 cup sour cream

Combine flour, salt and pepper in a bowl. Dredge meat in flour mixture. Heat oil in large skillet, brown meat on all sides. Remove with slotted spoon to saucepan. Add consommé to sauce pan and cook for 20 minutes over medium heat covered. Add sour cream and cook until heated throughout. Do not boil. Serve over hot egg noodles.

I could end this blog by attaching an audio clip as the proud parent, instead, I will default to my usual mode and make fun of my little flower. Attached is a video of a little walk through the Russian snow, something we don’t get in sunny Arizona,  where Sheldon biffs out. Cause I’m sensitive like that.  Happy week Team Tuna!

Updated by request, actual music from when they were in Russia. Bear in mind this performance was by about twenty high school kids, 15 to 17 years old....