I'm not dead (It just feels like it)

If it's June, it means I have dropped off the face of the earth to schlep my family to Suzuki Violin camp, more specifically the Intermountain Suzuki String Institute.

To avoid massive drives everyday, and save a scrap of sanity, I packed up approximately 57 suitcases full of everything we own and moved into my parents' basement for the week.

I haven't even opened my computer in a week. All of the blogosphere could have imploded, and I'd never know, because me entire life this week has revolved around my eight year old and her violin. By the time I get back to my parents' house, practice with Abby, (yeah, six hours of class during the day and practice at night. Tons o' fun...) and get everyone fed, bathed and in bed, there's nothing I can do but fall into bed completely exhausted. I'm not sure I could form a complete sentence this week that doesn't include the words "violin," "perpetual motion" or "Bach Double."

In fact, I'm sitting in a fiddle class right now, typing this blog post on my iPhone, so you'll have to excuse me if my auto spell-correct changes a typo into something obscene.

And we're in the middle of yet another bizarre medical crisis, because it's been two whole weeks since someone has been in the hospital or urgent care. This time, it's me, with a knee swollen approximately to the size of a basketball, and the doc at the instacare casually tossing around words like "MRI" "orthopedic surgeon" and "knee surgery." Fun, right? More about this later, after I'm off the heavy-duty painkillers and feeling more like a person. Or at least have access to a real keyboard.

So there you have it. Violins, knee surgery, and narcotics. Aren't you glad you stopped by today?