Solo Contest #2: Wheeling and dealing
Of the three contests I'm doing this year, this one was probably the one I was most concerned about, purely because it's at a school that, prior to last year, I'd never even heard of. I'd taught at the other two schools so I at least know where I'm going and what to expect to some degree. This school was a total crapshoot.
I was told it was in Wheeling; turns out it's actually just over the border in Prospect Heights, like the north edge of the property is the dividing line. I am not familiar with this area and I don't really know the roads. The good news is that, while driving around coming home from when I taught in Deerfield and Northbrook, I gained knowledge of Palatine Road, which is the closest east-west road to the school. This is good because, frankly, Palatine Road is an anomaly. In that area, it has express lanes and local lanes. Going there was fine; coming home, it took me a few lights to figure out how to get from the locals to the express. (At a stop light, when you get the green, just cut over. The express lanes have their own lights and only go straight; the locals have their own separate lights so you can turn, cut over, or go straight. Otherwise there's no way to get to the express lanes from the locals. The express lanes have exits if you want to do the reverse.) The other thing is that Palatine Road doesn't hit 59. It ends at Algonquin Road, but immediately east of 59, so it's just a matter of a right, then a quick left. All directions suggested it would take me an hour and fifteen minutes to get there; I made it in just under an hour, wow.
Since I was so early, we ended up doing our judge's meeting soon after I arrived. Mrs. S was going over her students with me. She inherited this school from its previous director, who needed to go make more money, to be honest. The band is pretty small; she has just 14 kids total between 5 grades. There are no 6th graders, and two each from 7th and 8th grades. Seven of the kids are beginners--and four of those are saxes. Phew. There is only one girl, a little 4th grader, and she's a drummer. There are no flutes. Mrs. S is trying to make it fun, like a club. She's doing the best she can with what she has, and rewriting parts to cover what's needed.
The good news is that the kids have a really solid base going on. There's definitely work that needs to be done, but for many of them they're doing pretty well. Nearly everyone got a first, and the boy who got a second, there are reasons for that. This is a school that apparently didn't do solo contest previously, so this was a new experience for everyone. It was also interesting to get to see this school. It was built in 1958, which for Catholic schools in the area seems to be on the newer side. It looked pretty nice to me, from what I'm used to. There were lockers built into the hallways which was not something my grade school had. She said there was one home room per grade, and maybe 18 kids in a class. She had us set up in the library for warmups, then directly across the hall in the computer lab for the solos. She had no parent helpers at this school so that worked out; as soon as the kid was done, I could send him out the door and he could just go back to the library. There were window in the doors and I could usually see a parent hanging around outside keeping an eye on things and eavesdropping. :)
I can practically go down the line with all of them...
--The first boy was a drummer. He kept a very steady beat. It was a little on the slow side but I'd rather hear that and everything played correctly than someone try to go faster and constantly stumble.
--The next one was a little sax player who inexplicably took his thumb off the octave key any time he played an F. When the rest of the notes are up the octave, and the music jumps down and then comes right back up, it sounds weird. I could see him physically moving his hand when he did it, too. We talked about this afterward and he didn't seem to have any idea it was happening, though I went, did you hear how your notes are jumping around? Oh...
--Third was the little girl. She was great. She needs to work on her flams (a drum rudiment) but she also kept a nice, steady tempo. You love to see that in a percussionist. And, people kept trying to help her carry her drum but she was like, I got this! Let her be, people.
--The fourth player was the problem. I think he took a year off during covid so even though he's in 7th grade, playing-wise he's a 6th-grader. Mrs. S offered him and the 8th grade trumpet player a choice of two solos and they picked the harder one, wanting a challenge. Unfortunately, this boy was not up to the challenge. It was clearly too hard for him. He was the only person who got a second. He also couldn't play all his scales, either. Like, kid needs more fundamental work. I would love to hear him play this again next year, to see what he can really do with it once his skill level matches this piece. Mrs. S even admitted she probably shouldn't have let him play the solo, but he was insistent, but then again he also didn't change any of the things she'd discussed with him, so there's that. She said she had sent recordings to the kids and they weren't listening to them.
--Next came one of the two 8th graders. He was on clarinet and overall was fine, but he needs to tongue more and not slur everything. One of the solos I heard had these 16th note motifs where the first two notes were slurred and the second two should have been tongued. Consistently, everything was slurred.
--Number 6 was the little sax player who kept having to stop because he was getting lightheaded. In little flute players, that's not uncommon because of how you blow into the flute; you lose a lot of air because you're not blowing directly into a mouthpiece. On sax, this far down the line? That's kind of an issue. I wrote that he should be taking in enough air to make it through 2-4 measures at a time. If he can do that and he's still getting lightheaded, it's time to see a doctor. (In the first month, learning how to breathe can be an issue. It's six months down the line. I'm concerned for this child.)
--Numbers 7 and 8 were twins. They did the same solo. First was the little sax player, whom I'd been warned was playing his 3/4 piece in 4. I had to write a note that said, the accent mark just means to give a little oomph to the note; it doesn't double a quarter note into a half note. And his brother on clarinet, while his counting was better, his sound was terrible. I actually called him over to see what brand of clarinet he was on. It was a known brand, not well known, but not an internet special that I'm aware of, but it really sounded like an internet special. (A new instrument should not cost $100. If it does, it's a toy. Add a zero and you're closer to the ballpark these days.) Mrs. S has also noticed how terrible he sounds--how can you not?--and wanted to talk to the family about getting him a different mouthpiece. I hope that helps.
At this point came our lunch break. She went to lock the door so no one would wander in...and her key got stuck. We both tried to get it out and it just wouldn't budge. There were several maintenance people wandering around so she was able to find the main guy, who told her the trick, and out popped her key. Phew. We ended up eating in the library, and when I walked in I went, was this formerly a church? It was! It has a vaulted ceiling, and to the right there's an area that looks like it could've held an altar; now it has a couple of levels like kids could sit there for reading time.
Since I last saw her, Mrs. S has been put on an anti-inflammatory diet. No carbs, no meat, no dairy, no preservatives. This is pretty close to how I eat this time of year, so one, she was picking my brain, and two, this made it pretty easy for her to pick stuff up for lunch. She just played off of what she's gotten the last couple contests and maybe modified it to be sure we both could eat it. I was impressed that she managed to find gluten-free wraps at her Woodman's. I looked at mine and couldn't spot them. I need to double-check the specialty food aisles again. She'd brought so much food that it wouldn't have been possible to eat it all anyway, but then there was knocking at the door and the maintenance guy let in the next kid at like 12:25--the next solo wasn't until 1--so we quickly finished and packed up and I went back to the computer room. She'd told me there had been some sort of water damage and the floor had been redone, maybe the previous summer, so the room had a smell to it. With both doors open to start, it wasn't that bad. I told her I'd worked in a place that produced plastics, so I could deal with it for a few hours. Thankfully I didn't have a problem, though back when I started that job in 2007, I came home sick with headaches every day for three weeks until I acclimated to it.
The little boy who showed up early wasn't even the first kid listed after lunch, but he warmed up and practiced for a good 45 minutes before his solo time. I knew he wasn't the next kid because, since I'd had time, I'd written down the instruments to expect when, and my next kid up was a trombone player. The lunch breaker was a sax player.
--Trombone kid didn't seem to show up until just before 1. I was honestly wondering if he was going to be a no-show. He had some trouble with his higher pitches, and his D is a little on the flat side--not uncommon in beginner players, based on what I heard at the first contest--but otherwise he's doing okay.
--Next was the little sax player. He's been struggling all year. Mrs. S even brought him up at the first contest; it took her six weeks to convince him that his left hand goes on top and his right hand goes on the bottom. (Like...it's not even physically possible to play the sax the other way. The bell prevents you from easily getting at the lower stack keys.) He was the only person who had stickers on his keys that I saw. I think she said that he was sticking his mouthpiece way into his mouth, too. She allowed him to use his notes (this isn't common and in fact is discouraged) and even cut his solo short for his sake and mine. And...he actually did pretty well. He must've been working his tail off the past couple days because, per Mrs. S, he did *not* play it that well at rehearsal on Thursday. Well, good for him. He's peaked at the right time. I guess when he left the room he was really upset; he'd gotten confused on his scale and I had him try it again. Aw, poor kid. He's far from the only one who had to replay his scales, and most of them appreciated the second chance. There may be some other issues going on with him but he made it through and he got a first, so I hope he takes this as a real accomplishment.
--The child afterward was another sax player. I'd heard him warming up across the hall after the little trombone player and I was like, wow, he's really improved since he first got here! ...And then I realized it wasn't the 1:10 kid I was hearing, it was the 1:20 kid. Oops. He ended up tying for the top score of the day (the little drummer girl was the other one). The first part of his solo was fine, and the second part was fine--but it was way slower. They should have been at the same tempo. Weird.
--The last in this grouping was the brother of the previous kid, and also the other 8th grader. He's in the same group as the trumpet player who got the second place. It was nice to hear this solo the way it was supposed to sound, though he kept doing something weird at the end of his sections, like he'd somehow get an 8th or 16th note off. I was busy writing other notes and didn't catch what exactly happened, but aurally I could tell something was strange.
At this point we only had two other kids, but not for a half-hour, then another half-hour again. The one boy was already there and I took him when he was ready, and the last boy, his mom is friends with the pair of brothers I'd just seen, so their mom called the last boy's mom and said, they're ready for you whenever you get here!
--The second to last boy was one of the two 7th graders, and during covid his previous band director had taught him the chromatic scale as something to do. I could hear him working on it in the library, the only child to play it (nobody else had learned it and I was given their possible scales to perform on their score sheets), so after he played his three scales I went, did I hear you practicing the chromatic? Why don't you play it for me? Mrs. S would later say he hadn't wanted to admit that he knew it, so she was highly amused that I called him on it. His solo had 8ths and maybe 16th notes in the first part, with the second part being mainly quarter notes...and somehow the second part was the shakier one. His quarter notes were really uneven. That's...odd.
--Finally, the last boy was one last little trumpet player. He had some issues with his higher pitches but otherwise was fine.
That last one had come early enough that we actually finished cleaning everything up at 2:30, which was his original call time. Sweet. I knew she'd wanted to go out, so we spent some time scoping out a place. This is very close to her house, as well as Randhurst Village, so she suggested a restaurant she knew and said, you'd better follow me; the parking lot there is weird. Now, when I'd gotten to the school and church, I parked next to a van I thought was hers. It was some other person's; she'd actually parked around the back. She ended up giving me a ride to my car, and then I followed her to the mall lot in this circuitous route. We walked over to the restaurant, where the sidewalk salt was super chunky and actually was uncomfortable to walk on, only to discover the restaurant didn't open until 4. It wasn't quite 3:30 by that time. Okay...what now... We went online and found another restaurant in the area and started looking at that menu, but ultimately we wanted to go to the first one and needed to kill time. It was too cold outside to walk around the mall itself. I saw the back of Costco across the lot and went, wanna wander Costco for half an hour? So we did. Here's the funny part--she drove out to the ring road around the mall, then all the way around to the Costco entrance, insisting on parking as close as possible (mind you, it's Saturday afternoon at Costco), then when she left, took the inner road that led right back to the lot we'd been at. Like...it was right there...whatever. I'm not someone who needs to park close to anything on a Saturday afternoon so I'm just glad nothing and nobody got hit, because that seemed to be a possibility. Also, we tested out sofas. That was pleasant.
Back to the restaurant, it was Blackfinn. We'd had so much to eat for lunch--and again, since we were interrupted, we didn't even get to try everything--that neither of us wanted anything big. I'd scoped out a few sides that seemed interesting and went with the sweet potato mash and the blackened Brussels sprouts. Alas, since I was considering something else when we'd perused the menu online, I hadn't noticed the sprouts were covered in parmesan and after getting them had to ask the waitress, is this salt or cheese? It was cheese. Rats. I had fun scraping off as much as I could in order to eat them. Mrs. S had already gone over all her dietary restrictions with the waitress, but I hadn't; it was only after getting the food that I mentioned I was on a dairy-free diet currently. The waitress was really concerned and offered to get a fresh dish for me, but I didn't want to have to have it completely remade. I ended up with a pile of leaves in my bowl, and at one point, after having eaten the rest of the mash, I returned to the sprouts only to go, okay, which is the food side and which is the detritus side? It was hard to tell at first.
We finished eating and were ready to go around 5, and Mrs. S's phone started going off; she has to medicate one of her cats, and so her phone meows, and since she kept delaying her alarm it would go off every five minutes. But she kept talking and it turned into a therapy session. I'd known there was an incident with her family that caused her husband--still in the divorcing process I believe--to be removed from the house; I now have more knowledge as to why that happened, and yeah. His removal was fully warranted. It's a trying situation with three teenage girls in the house, two in high school, one in college, plus the myriad other things she's dealing with. My life seems frivolous in comparison. I can't relate to a lot of it, but I can empathize, and sometimes that's all you need.
Eventually we left; it was probably about 6 by then. I had a feeling it would take me about an hour and a half to get home, and I was right, partly because I was further south than the school and I chose to go back home the way I'd come. After we'd gone out last year to her favorite pub, I'd wandered my way back home and actually passed Randhurst, so I knew staying in that area wasn't ideal. At least Palatine Road moves in spots, just not through Palatine itself, when it's down to one lane and it's 30 MPH. (On the west end, it goes through forest preserves and it's 55 MPH. Palatine Road has identity issues.) Now that my phone has internet again, I was able to figure out how to get out of there and I made it back home eventually. Two down, one more to go.
I was told it was in Wheeling; turns out it's actually just over the border in Prospect Heights, like the north edge of the property is the dividing line. I am not familiar with this area and I don't really know the roads. The good news is that, while driving around coming home from when I taught in Deerfield and Northbrook, I gained knowledge of Palatine Road, which is the closest east-west road to the school. This is good because, frankly, Palatine Road is an anomaly. In that area, it has express lanes and local lanes. Going there was fine; coming home, it took me a few lights to figure out how to get from the locals to the express. (At a stop light, when you get the green, just cut over. The express lanes have their own lights and only go straight; the locals have their own separate lights so you can turn, cut over, or go straight. Otherwise there's no way to get to the express lanes from the locals. The express lanes have exits if you want to do the reverse.) The other thing is that Palatine Road doesn't hit 59. It ends at Algonquin Road, but immediately east of 59, so it's just a matter of a right, then a quick left. All directions suggested it would take me an hour and fifteen minutes to get there; I made it in just under an hour, wow.
Since I was so early, we ended up doing our judge's meeting soon after I arrived. Mrs. S was going over her students with me. She inherited this school from its previous director, who needed to go make more money, to be honest. The band is pretty small; she has just 14 kids total between 5 grades. There are no 6th graders, and two each from 7th and 8th grades. Seven of the kids are beginners--and four of those are saxes. Phew. There is only one girl, a little 4th grader, and she's a drummer. There are no flutes. Mrs. S is trying to make it fun, like a club. She's doing the best she can with what she has, and rewriting parts to cover what's needed.
The good news is that the kids have a really solid base going on. There's definitely work that needs to be done, but for many of them they're doing pretty well. Nearly everyone got a first, and the boy who got a second, there are reasons for that. This is a school that apparently didn't do solo contest previously, so this was a new experience for everyone. It was also interesting to get to see this school. It was built in 1958, which for Catholic schools in the area seems to be on the newer side. It looked pretty nice to me, from what I'm used to. There were lockers built into the hallways which was not something my grade school had. She said there was one home room per grade, and maybe 18 kids in a class. She had us set up in the library for warmups, then directly across the hall in the computer lab for the solos. She had no parent helpers at this school so that worked out; as soon as the kid was done, I could send him out the door and he could just go back to the library. There were window in the doors and I could usually see a parent hanging around outside keeping an eye on things and eavesdropping. :)
I can practically go down the line with all of them...
--The first boy was a drummer. He kept a very steady beat. It was a little on the slow side but I'd rather hear that and everything played correctly than someone try to go faster and constantly stumble.
--The next one was a little sax player who inexplicably took his thumb off the octave key any time he played an F. When the rest of the notes are up the octave, and the music jumps down and then comes right back up, it sounds weird. I could see him physically moving his hand when he did it, too. We talked about this afterward and he didn't seem to have any idea it was happening, though I went, did you hear how your notes are jumping around? Oh...
--Third was the little girl. She was great. She needs to work on her flams (a drum rudiment) but she also kept a nice, steady tempo. You love to see that in a percussionist. And, people kept trying to help her carry her drum but she was like, I got this! Let her be, people.
--The fourth player was the problem. I think he took a year off during covid so even though he's in 7th grade, playing-wise he's a 6th-grader. Mrs. S offered him and the 8th grade trumpet player a choice of two solos and they picked the harder one, wanting a challenge. Unfortunately, this boy was not up to the challenge. It was clearly too hard for him. He was the only person who got a second. He also couldn't play all his scales, either. Like, kid needs more fundamental work. I would love to hear him play this again next year, to see what he can really do with it once his skill level matches this piece. Mrs. S even admitted she probably shouldn't have let him play the solo, but he was insistent, but then again he also didn't change any of the things she'd discussed with him, so there's that. She said she had sent recordings to the kids and they weren't listening to them.
--Next came one of the two 8th graders. He was on clarinet and overall was fine, but he needs to tongue more and not slur everything. One of the solos I heard had these 16th note motifs where the first two notes were slurred and the second two should have been tongued. Consistently, everything was slurred.
--Number 6 was the little sax player who kept having to stop because he was getting lightheaded. In little flute players, that's not uncommon because of how you blow into the flute; you lose a lot of air because you're not blowing directly into a mouthpiece. On sax, this far down the line? That's kind of an issue. I wrote that he should be taking in enough air to make it through 2-4 measures at a time. If he can do that and he's still getting lightheaded, it's time to see a doctor. (In the first month, learning how to breathe can be an issue. It's six months down the line. I'm concerned for this child.)
--Numbers 7 and 8 were twins. They did the same solo. First was the little sax player, whom I'd been warned was playing his 3/4 piece in 4. I had to write a note that said, the accent mark just means to give a little oomph to the note; it doesn't double a quarter note into a half note. And his brother on clarinet, while his counting was better, his sound was terrible. I actually called him over to see what brand of clarinet he was on. It was a known brand, not well known, but not an internet special that I'm aware of, but it really sounded like an internet special. (A new instrument should not cost $100. If it does, it's a toy. Add a zero and you're closer to the ballpark these days.) Mrs. S has also noticed how terrible he sounds--how can you not?--and wanted to talk to the family about getting him a different mouthpiece. I hope that helps.
At this point came our lunch break. She went to lock the door so no one would wander in...and her key got stuck. We both tried to get it out and it just wouldn't budge. There were several maintenance people wandering around so she was able to find the main guy, who told her the trick, and out popped her key. Phew. We ended up eating in the library, and when I walked in I went, was this formerly a church? It was! It has a vaulted ceiling, and to the right there's an area that looks like it could've held an altar; now it has a couple of levels like kids could sit there for reading time.
Since I last saw her, Mrs. S has been put on an anti-inflammatory diet. No carbs, no meat, no dairy, no preservatives. This is pretty close to how I eat this time of year, so one, she was picking my brain, and two, this made it pretty easy for her to pick stuff up for lunch. She just played off of what she's gotten the last couple contests and maybe modified it to be sure we both could eat it. I was impressed that she managed to find gluten-free wraps at her Woodman's. I looked at mine and couldn't spot them. I need to double-check the specialty food aisles again. She'd brought so much food that it wouldn't have been possible to eat it all anyway, but then there was knocking at the door and the maintenance guy let in the next kid at like 12:25--the next solo wasn't until 1--so we quickly finished and packed up and I went back to the computer room. She'd told me there had been some sort of water damage and the floor had been redone, maybe the previous summer, so the room had a smell to it. With both doors open to start, it wasn't that bad. I told her I'd worked in a place that produced plastics, so I could deal with it for a few hours. Thankfully I didn't have a problem, though back when I started that job in 2007, I came home sick with headaches every day for three weeks until I acclimated to it.
The little boy who showed up early wasn't even the first kid listed after lunch, but he warmed up and practiced for a good 45 minutes before his solo time. I knew he wasn't the next kid because, since I'd had time, I'd written down the instruments to expect when, and my next kid up was a trombone player. The lunch breaker was a sax player.
--Trombone kid didn't seem to show up until just before 1. I was honestly wondering if he was going to be a no-show. He had some trouble with his higher pitches, and his D is a little on the flat side--not uncommon in beginner players, based on what I heard at the first contest--but otherwise he's doing okay.
--Next was the little sax player. He's been struggling all year. Mrs. S even brought him up at the first contest; it took her six weeks to convince him that his left hand goes on top and his right hand goes on the bottom. (Like...it's not even physically possible to play the sax the other way. The bell prevents you from easily getting at the lower stack keys.) He was the only person who had stickers on his keys that I saw. I think she said that he was sticking his mouthpiece way into his mouth, too. She allowed him to use his notes (this isn't common and in fact is discouraged) and even cut his solo short for his sake and mine. And...he actually did pretty well. He must've been working his tail off the past couple days because, per Mrs. S, he did *not* play it that well at rehearsal on Thursday. Well, good for him. He's peaked at the right time. I guess when he left the room he was really upset; he'd gotten confused on his scale and I had him try it again. Aw, poor kid. He's far from the only one who had to replay his scales, and most of them appreciated the second chance. There may be some other issues going on with him but he made it through and he got a first, so I hope he takes this as a real accomplishment.
--The child afterward was another sax player. I'd heard him warming up across the hall after the little trombone player and I was like, wow, he's really improved since he first got here! ...And then I realized it wasn't the 1:10 kid I was hearing, it was the 1:20 kid. Oops. He ended up tying for the top score of the day (the little drummer girl was the other one). The first part of his solo was fine, and the second part was fine--but it was way slower. They should have been at the same tempo. Weird.
--The last in this grouping was the brother of the previous kid, and also the other 8th grader. He's in the same group as the trumpet player who got the second place. It was nice to hear this solo the way it was supposed to sound, though he kept doing something weird at the end of his sections, like he'd somehow get an 8th or 16th note off. I was busy writing other notes and didn't catch what exactly happened, but aurally I could tell something was strange.
At this point we only had two other kids, but not for a half-hour, then another half-hour again. The one boy was already there and I took him when he was ready, and the last boy, his mom is friends with the pair of brothers I'd just seen, so their mom called the last boy's mom and said, they're ready for you whenever you get here!
--The second to last boy was one of the two 7th graders, and during covid his previous band director had taught him the chromatic scale as something to do. I could hear him working on it in the library, the only child to play it (nobody else had learned it and I was given their possible scales to perform on their score sheets), so after he played his three scales I went, did I hear you practicing the chromatic? Why don't you play it for me? Mrs. S would later say he hadn't wanted to admit that he knew it, so she was highly amused that I called him on it. His solo had 8ths and maybe 16th notes in the first part, with the second part being mainly quarter notes...and somehow the second part was the shakier one. His quarter notes were really uneven. That's...odd.
--Finally, the last boy was one last little trumpet player. He had some issues with his higher pitches but otherwise was fine.
That last one had come early enough that we actually finished cleaning everything up at 2:30, which was his original call time. Sweet. I knew she'd wanted to go out, so we spent some time scoping out a place. This is very close to her house, as well as Randhurst Village, so she suggested a restaurant she knew and said, you'd better follow me; the parking lot there is weird. Now, when I'd gotten to the school and church, I parked next to a van I thought was hers. It was some other person's; she'd actually parked around the back. She ended up giving me a ride to my car, and then I followed her to the mall lot in this circuitous route. We walked over to the restaurant, where the sidewalk salt was super chunky and actually was uncomfortable to walk on, only to discover the restaurant didn't open until 4. It wasn't quite 3:30 by that time. Okay...what now... We went online and found another restaurant in the area and started looking at that menu, but ultimately we wanted to go to the first one and needed to kill time. It was too cold outside to walk around the mall itself. I saw the back of Costco across the lot and went, wanna wander Costco for half an hour? So we did. Here's the funny part--she drove out to the ring road around the mall, then all the way around to the Costco entrance, insisting on parking as close as possible (mind you, it's Saturday afternoon at Costco), then when she left, took the inner road that led right back to the lot we'd been at. Like...it was right there...whatever. I'm not someone who needs to park close to anything on a Saturday afternoon so I'm just glad nothing and nobody got hit, because that seemed to be a possibility. Also, we tested out sofas. That was pleasant.
Back to the restaurant, it was Blackfinn. We'd had so much to eat for lunch--and again, since we were interrupted, we didn't even get to try everything--that neither of us wanted anything big. I'd scoped out a few sides that seemed interesting and went with the sweet potato mash and the blackened Brussels sprouts. Alas, since I was considering something else when we'd perused the menu online, I hadn't noticed the sprouts were covered in parmesan and after getting them had to ask the waitress, is this salt or cheese? It was cheese. Rats. I had fun scraping off as much as I could in order to eat them. Mrs. S had already gone over all her dietary restrictions with the waitress, but I hadn't; it was only after getting the food that I mentioned I was on a dairy-free diet currently. The waitress was really concerned and offered to get a fresh dish for me, but I didn't want to have to have it completely remade. I ended up with a pile of leaves in my bowl, and at one point, after having eaten the rest of the mash, I returned to the sprouts only to go, okay, which is the food side and which is the detritus side? It was hard to tell at first.
We finished eating and were ready to go around 5, and Mrs. S's phone started going off; she has to medicate one of her cats, and so her phone meows, and since she kept delaying her alarm it would go off every five minutes. But she kept talking and it turned into a therapy session. I'd known there was an incident with her family that caused her husband--still in the divorcing process I believe--to be removed from the house; I now have more knowledge as to why that happened, and yeah. His removal was fully warranted. It's a trying situation with three teenage girls in the house, two in high school, one in college, plus the myriad other things she's dealing with. My life seems frivolous in comparison. I can't relate to a lot of it, but I can empathize, and sometimes that's all you need.
Eventually we left; it was probably about 6 by then. I had a feeling it would take me about an hour and a half to get home, and I was right, partly because I was further south than the school and I chose to go back home the way I'd come. After we'd gone out last year to her favorite pub, I'd wandered my way back home and actually passed Randhurst, so I knew staying in that area wasn't ideal. At least Palatine Road moves in spots, just not through Palatine itself, when it's down to one lane and it's 30 MPH. (On the west end, it goes through forest preserves and it's 55 MPH. Palatine Road has identity issues.) Now that my phone has internet again, I was able to figure out how to get out of there and I made it back home eventually. Two down, one more to go.