Sunday afternoon

I think the kids upstairs must have music lessons on Mondays. I always hear a lot of trumpet, clarinet, and piano on Sunday afternoons. Right now, I'm listening to the daughter play one of my most favourite songs on the piano. It feels so comforting, like I'm at home and Mom's playing the piano.

But earlier? The boy was playing "The Locomotion" on the trumpet. (As in "Everybody's doing a brand new dance now...") It was unspeakably awesome (well, in a "he's been playing trumpet for less than a year" sense).

This next part is especially for Trillwing, who has been doing a bunch of research and thinking about scrapbooking. Yesterday, Chris and I ordered prints of our wedding photos (the portraits that Chris's uncle and cousin did for us), and we bought a big scrapbook to hold the photos.


Now, a good friend of mine did a wedding scrapbook after she got married. It took her months, as she carefully crafted every page, cut the photos, and added all sorts of decorative do-dads. I put in all of my photos over the course of yesterday evening. This is how elaborate my scrapbooking gets:

It would hurt my brain to cut a photo. I'm just happy to have them neatly in an album, in such a way as you don't have to turn the album sideways to look at the tall photos:


QoWP, champion scrapbooker. I have a feeling that the Creative Memories people would have a problem with me. (You want me to clutter the page with what?)