Two years ago this very day!  That's when Don and I met our Dmitry for the first time. 

He's changed a trifle in the intervening years:

I'm hoping to take a picture of him and Don later on for comparison purposes.  ;^)

Molto buon!

He was wonderful . . . absolutely wonderful.  I puddled up at one
point, but having it on television tended to be distracting (why on
earth doesn't that conductor get a haircut?).

I might head down to the Bass Hall tomorrow afternoon, when Kobrin has
his recital, and a couple of other contestants perform Prokofiev's Piano Concerto No. 2 and the Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2.

[wiping eyes]  Well, I'm a mess after that.  Oh dear!

Just listened to Roberto Plano of Italy play Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2  in the Van Cliburn finals, and by the time he was finished I was a weeping, blubbing wreck.

Boy, that was fun! 

OTOH I was regretting not having headed down to the Bass Hall to
hopefully hear it in person, but considering how ravaged I was by
hearing it on a boom box in my bedroom, had I been physically present
I'd probably have had to be carried out by paramedics.  What is
more, I'm impatiently waiting for the last competitor of the evening to
play, Alexander Kobrin of Russia, who is to play Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme of Pagnini, Opus 43, which happens to be one of my favorite pieces of music in the world.

I adore Rachmaninoff. Along with Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev, and another
Russian composer or two or three.  Their literature tends to leave
me cold, but when it comes to music there is no one to touch the Russians.  No one. 

Now a Russian pianist is about to perform Rachmaninoff's Rhapsody on a Theme of Pagnini . . . is it awful that while I still hope that Christ returns tonight, He waits till after the performance? 

It's about to start!  Later....

'Tis done.

Not only does he have a driver's license, he has something to drive . .
. a 1998 Buick Skylark with 84K miles on it.  Not bad!

Here he is, glowering at me as I attempted to stealthily snap a picture
as Jerry, the salesman, pointed out the various features.

Showing off his new wheels to his brother, before heading off to his friend, Tanner's, house.

And tell you what, in that longish line at the DPS office yesterday there was precisely ONE sensible man:

See him?  The one wearing the jeans and light tan shirt? With his
head bent over the book he brought to while away the time spent waiting?

A man after my own heart.  Everyone else just stood.  Crazy! 

Tonight was Bethie's dance recital, and a lovely event it was, too:

The arrow indicates her in her first number, "Falling in Love With
Me."  Actually she was very easy to pick out, seeing as how she
was the smallest by far, and on the right end.

She's a crackerjack dancer, let me tell you.

Bethie's second dance was the ballet number, which she was a bit more
tentative in.  Obviously jazz dancing is more her style. 

That's her on the right, of course.

She graciously accepted floral tributes from her adoring public.

One of  whom was her cousin, and fellow dancer, Brianna.

To quote Gib from the movie "True Lies", y'all in the Metroplex may want to TAKE COVER! 

Charles passed his driver's road test, so has been duly authorized to
drive on the streets of our city, and any other he can manage to reach.

It would seem to me that with a burgeoning metropolitan population such
as Tarrant county has, it would behoove the state to open more DPS
(Department of Public Safety) offices.  Instead there are only the
same ones there have always been, meaning the lines are long and
everything's a nuisance.

Been trying to get Charles his driver's license, and after having
escorted four other children through the process, I feel qualified to
say the situation has deteriorated alarmingly.  Before, I would
drive the child to the DPS office in Lake Worth, whereupon we'd wait in
line, get him or her settled to take the written test, then wait till
someone was free to give the road test.

Now one shows up, waits through a long line, gets out of line to fill
out a form, stand to one side feeling sheepish because it looks like
you're trying to cut in but you're not, waiting for the clerk to wave
you to the front, take the form and go stand in line in another room so
as to be able to take the written test.

Once that's done, one has to come back at a dreadfully early hour of
the morning to try to snag an appointment for the road test.  The
office opens at 7:30 a.m., so Charles and I got there about fifteen
minutes before that time, to find a long line already waiting.  He
got in line while I went to get some (comparatively) cheap gas, then
went back and inside, to sit with my book and wait.

He was quite a ways back in the road test line.

After a while the only time open was 2:00 which he couldn't make,
because tonight's a Cow Sponge ska concert at the Ridglea theatre, and
he's supposed to meet the band at 3:00.  So we left.

Tomorrow we'll rise even earlier so we can leave the house even earlier
so he can get in line even earlier, hoping to be able to score a road
test appointment.

Sheesh!