Jam packed

This has really been one of the busiest weeks in recent memory. Work has been absolutely insane, just wall-to-wall meetings separated only by sporadic crises and the shrill cry of lawyers: “I need to talk to you!” The Tour, of course, takes up all my nights, and keeps me up too late to do any morning biking (ironic, eh?) — though it is also the perfect kind of television to do exercises and stretching in front of, so July is typically my fittest, most limber month. We’ve had a bunch of things to get done — vacation plans, switching phone service, try to fix the fax machine. Lee’s been overloaded with her work, which seems to involve radiotagging truckloads of paper and tracking their movements like Mission Control.

And tucked in there was Rebekah’s 9th birthday. With nothing but a tiny Casio keyboard and a beginning piano book borrowed from a friend, she has been diligently teaching herself to play the piano, and we were so impressed by how hard she has worked at this that we decided to upgrade her a little bit and got her a full-size Yamaha keyboard — really good sound, it can imitate dozens of instruments, and it can plug into the Mac for use with Garage Band, which interested me most. She screamed when she saw it. My ears are still ringing.

Tonight, the birthday party — just a couple of friends and cousins at the ballpark, followed by fireworks and a sleepover. Should be fun.