moscow memory

I just had a memory of Moscow, Idaho.

We were there for one of my performances, though I don't remember that part clearly; I was performing with an orchestra (I don't remember what) and at the end of the performance I was presented with the key to the city. I don't remember that clearly either, except thinking that the city must have very, very small locks.

What I do remember is wandering through some sort of campus with the ... conductor? and my mother and my little sister, who rampaged ahead with her typical enthusiasm. She was younger, at the time: not yet in her teens. Eight? Nine? At any rate, the grown-ups were engaged in conversation, and we eventually discovered Sako high up in the branches of a massive tree.

'Planted by John F Kennedy,' the plaque said. (Or maybe it was Roosevelt? I don't remember. Anyway, it was a big tree.)

Mom looked up. "Masako?"

"Hi, Mom." Two stockinged, mary-janed legs waved at us from above.

Mom disapproved. Sako was wearing a dress. "Come down," she ordered.

"Okay," said Sako, and let go.

She came down with some crashes, some whacks, and a thump. Mom shook her head. The conductor, I think, was appalled.

Sako, of course, was fine. She stood up, dusted herself off, and ... I don't remember what came next. It wasn't quite as memorable, I suppose.

Anyway, there you go.

It starts early, in my family.