Christmas Must Be Tonight

Enjoy Jeremy's Christmas tune,  and merry Christmas tonight!

Our Hearts Are Home

I have loved him since I was a girl.  Now I have loved him longer than I have not loved him.  He is not perfect, we do not love each other perfectly, but we are doing our best.  Loving him has made my life bigger and more beautiful than I could make it.  His love for me has brought out the best in me, inspired me, and been the fertile ground where I can flourish.  

I am a fiery plant: temperamental, passionate, impatient, insecure, and angry. I remember today, 16 years in, thankful to the mystery that orchestrated this exciting, magical, adventure of love.  I am thankful we can celebrate that our love can overcome the obstacle that is marriage.

Icy Morning

I took this photo this morning on a popular trail from town.  It is popular when it is warmer, which by 11am it was, and I passed many trekkers on my walk back.  On my way though, I was alone, but I didn't feel alone.  It seems so forested and dense now, but several generations ago the hills were bald and miners were busy on the creekside.  I tried to imagine them as I walked, and hummed Christmas music.

War is Over for the Race Horse

War is over, if you want it.  This silly Christmas song jabs me every year.  One reason is, it is so catchy. I can't stop humming it.  My childhood was full of folk music the Beatles, and Peter Paul and Mary.   They sing an old folk song that Lennon (or Ono) used the melody for his Happy Xmas song.  The former was about a race horse.


I'll tell you why I think it is silly: the lyrics.  I'm supposed to be moved by their benevolence yet the poetry is so flimsy, that I am not.  It may be sacrilege to openly state that this song does not move me, even as I am nearly a pacifist.  It's just that it could be so much better.  "I'll be Home for Christmas" tells the story.  After saying that, today I'm making an exception.


"War is over if you want it".  I've always wanted war to be over, wanting it has made no difference.  War is a primitive response to conflict.  I can see how warring tribes thousands of years ago used it, but can't we evolve?  Packs of wild dogs war for territory, as well as primates.   


If we have learned anything, it is that war causes global suffering.  As our troops leave Iraq, even that will cause suffering.  Leaving a fruitless war you start, causes suffering, staying causes suffering.  It is a dead end.


Today it is nearing Xmas (or for some of you, Christmas) and once again I can't get that 'Old Stewball' melody out of my head.  Today a war IS over.  Today those children singing "war is over" as a descant to Happy Xmas has taken form.  Just like those angels who came to the shepherds, saying "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."  A sliver of heaven on Earth.


I hope you have fun

I shall proceed from the simple to the complex. But in war more than in any other subject we must begin by looking at the nature of the whole; for here more than elsewhere the part and the whole must always be thought of together.

Karl Von Clausewitz

Trying New Things II

I'm trying a lot of new things lately, but I'm not the only one.  My girl is crazy about her children's chorus.  She is eight, and because she has parents in a community choir, and mad vocal skills, her choirmaster asked her to participate in an advanced choir.  Last weekend the community choir and her children's chorus joined together for holiday music.  It was a great opportunity for our community to see the FANTASTIC work these kids do.  

The first concert I attended, I was wondering if I had low expectations.  Would it be so terrible that it wasn't worth paying for a ticket?  It was quite the opposite.  People spend 2x as much to be a part of such wonderful choral music (if they like that kinda thing).  They sound so pure and perfect.  They perform music that children much older don't get.  I am a proud mamma.

Look how she is concentrating and so focused.
Not even the adults are that determined.

My girl is busy.  She would rather climb a tree or do a puzzle than read a book.  She rarely focuses on anything for too long.  I saw a determined and focused person, if she loves what she is doing.  She sat through 4 rehearsals and performances perfectly.  She sang perfectly.  Every night they sang "In the Bleak Mid-Winter" I had to brush away some tears.

Forest Floor

Our new home is pressing up against 700 acres of forest.  There are miles and miles of trails.  I found these tiny umbrellas on the forest floor.  They sparked my imagination.  I hope they do the same for you.

North by Northwest

This week, 2 people told me I should blog about movies I love.  I love movies.  The problem with blogging about movies I love, is I haven't seen many I LOVE for over a year.  The fact is I have seen quite a few movies I end up falling asleep in, not because I am too tired, but because they are too boring.  I love a good story.

I have seen thousands of movies.  My dad got me started on old movies from when he was a kid and before.  B-movies about blobs and monsters from the 50,  musicals, thrillers, academy award winners, Danny Kaye,  and science fiction.  I think he has good taste.  Really I don't care what genre a movie is, as long as it has a well crafted story.  This is why so many movies I have seen lately have been so terrible: un-compelling stories.

I am going to review movies, but only movies I like.  It will be more like a recommendation.  I usually don't watch a movie twice (except for Christmas movies), but I'll watch some of my old favorites again, and then tell you what I think.

I'll start with recommending 'North by Northwest'.  It was made in the late 50's and is by Hitchcock and stars Cary Grant and Eva Marie Saint.  What's not to love about that?  If you only watch new movies, you should try this old one.  It might remind you of some newer movies, but this one is fundamental.  There is mistaken identity, a beautiful girl, a lot of running, an airplane and did I mention Cary Grant?

5 Reasons I love Science

Our brains are mysterious things.  I'm sure there is much for us to learn about, that is beautiful and will answer so many mysteries.
Enjoy!

Stupid Fun

I've neglected this spot for 2 reasons.  One, I had to move last week.  Two, I got injured in a rear-end car accident 4 days before I had to move.  Wasn't it also Thanksgiving last week?  My favorite holiday?  Now my house is moved, thanks to some generous friends and family, and my neck, back and arms are working again.  Mostly my brain is working again and we found the kitchen table.

Here are the photos of us making "ginger bread" houses with graham crackers and frosting.  It was a blast and as soon as the kids started, the adults couldn't help but join in.  It was what I call 'stupid fun'.

Merry Christmas.

Before the mess

Pre-sugar spike

What Would Developers Create?

Silly boy mid sugar consumption

Letting the sugar go to our head after a creative afternoon!

Kittens

I've been reduced to watching kitten clips on You Tube.
I don't really like cats so much, and I don't know why I think this is so cute, but it is so cute it borderlines saccharin.

Send Somebody

I learned this song today, and it made me happy, so I'm sending it on to you.
Thank you for stopping by!

Trying New Things: UPDATE

This is the video of me concentrating, and trying not to say "One-and, Two-and, Three-and, Four-and".  My back up plan for missing my notes has been to sing the note in time, but you can tell that it is not a bell.  What Wondrous Love Is This?  40 seconds of video seems long.

I'm a fledgling musician.  I can accompany my voice with a guitar, mandolin and ukelele (which means I'm a big hack).  I can sing, and my voice is my instrument.  I can count time, read music and I have relative pitch.

This morning I debuted as a bell ringer in a hand bell choir.  I played the E's and F's in the base clef.  I have been to 3 rehearsals, and it is fun, and new.  I joined because I really like the sound of the bell choir, and my mom is in it.  I'm such a newbie, but I'm having patience with myself to learn a new sport instrument (?).  I have traditionally thought that bell choirs were cheesy. Certainly there is that element, the quilted vests, the white gloves, but it is fun.  My husband thought it was so funny that he took video of me, and was laughing so hard.  I think he is just jealous of how much fun I am having.  

So what if I am liking it?  

It is like the video games that you pretend to play an instrument, waiting to strum the guitar at the exact moment, but there is sheet music, and you get weeks of rehearsal.

I think I am the only ringer with a tattoo.   

Veterinarian Day

8 year old-     Mom?  What's a veterinarian?

35 year old-    Oh!  Someone who is a doctor for animals.

8 year old-     Mom, why are we celebrating veterinarians?

I'm grateful for veterinarians and veterans today.

Murmuration

Murmuration from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.

I have a terrible case of ornithophobia.  I have had it my whole life.  Even songs about birds as a child scared me (...Seven blackbirds baked in a pie...).  At the same time that I am afraid of birds, I am thrilled by them.  I enjoy seeing them, if I am inside and they are outside.  I am terrified of them if they are near me.  It makes my knees weak, like some folks get if they are up too high.

Starlings (I call them Parking Lot birds) are especially nerve-wracking, which is why watching this as a video is perfect for me.  It is amazing, and terrifying.

Less From the Back Seat

The universe has shifted.  I know I said it may be 5 more years of bickering in the back seat, but it may be a bit less, three minutes less.  Today driving home from school I was the loudest person in the car.  I asked how the kids' day was and halfway through the sentence, I released I was interrupting.  I was interrupting silence, so I stopped talking and enjoyed the three minute car ride.

Those three minutes in the car were full of quiet because my two ruffians were BOTH with their noses in a book.  The smaller one, Little Farm in the Ozarks, and the bigger, one of the last of the Redwall series.  Also, my son is just big enough to sit in the front, so they can not physically fight, and that extra 6 inches helps out with the bickering (who knew?).  Now they both have the reading bug, and it was a perfect storm!

I've gotta say that I'm gloating.  And even now they are quasi-bickering over the fairness of Halloween candy distribution.  For three minutes this afternoon, I felt a successful parenting moment.  

Thanksgiving is the New Christmas

Everyone is supposed to love Christmas.  I do.

Now I am going to explane why I don't like it as much as I'm supposed to.  I'm admitting it, even though it is close to taboo to admit that Christmas is a bit much for me.  It is my feeling that Thanksgiving is everything that Christmas could be.  Let me explane.

You know all the reasons there is to love Christmas.  The weeks of parties, music, cookies and sweets, gifts, more parties, children, travel, decorations and family.

Every year my children have class parties, my husband has work parties, my church has youth parties, there are family birthdays as well as our anniversary.  This year we have added a Jr. High Bollywood dance recital (really?), our daughter's choir performances, our choir performances, and hand bell performances.  All of these activities are tromping on top of buying gifts and celebrating Advent (counting down the days 'till Christmas).  We also have to be moved out of our house on the 1st of December, but that is just this year.  Most of these festive activities are not unique to this year (Bollywood Jr. High dance recital?).

Last year I watch the Charlie Brown Christmas and cried tears of "good greif".  There is too much to do at Christmas.  I am missing the point of Christmas and there is no way around it.  I have to participate in the menagerie of festivities. On their own, each activity is manageable, but in quick succession, it is a flood of fun.  A serving of ice cream is yummy, but not so much if you have to eat a gallon right now.

I used to think it was that I was putting some imagined expectation on Christmas, because it was magical when I was a kid, thanks to my parents.  I want to love it, like I used to.  Now I don't have the expectations I used to, but a calendar and a schedule to keep.

If I could have what I want for Christmas, it would be that Thanksgiving is the new Christmas.  There aren't piles of music to learn, months of preparation and pre-Thanksgiving parties.

All I have to do is deliver juice boxes to my children's classroom the day before school is out, and a potluck item for the actual day of Thanksgiving.  Then, I get to enjoy the people around me and remember how thankful I am, all weekend.  It is just as spiritual and sacred as Christmas.  I am so thankful for that.  

Bully Dog in the Grocery

I pretty much love my pets, and I love the people in my life more.  This seems reasonable, but I guess not to everyone.   

The other day at the grocery store, I realized that some people love their pets more than I do.  I think some people love their pets as much as they love a human.  They have a strong and satisfying relationship with a dog, or a cat.  This is a feeling/thought that I have never had.  I have felt the unconditional love of a pet for me, and that is nice.

Last week in the paper product isle was a pitt bull.  We call them "Never-let-go" dogs.  That pretty much sums up what I think of them.  They are cute, but if they get ahold of you, they will never let go.  This is bad.  I hear people say that it's an undeserved, bad reputation.  I know why they have a bad reputation.

They are used to fight and kill.  They are used to guard illegal and legal drug cultivation.  If they get you, the owner can get his drugs and money back, and then the dog can continue to eat you for lunch.  People mostly have this breed to be intimidating, or to seem tough because they are not.  Also, some of these kinds of people love their bully dog.  So much so, that it is not okay to leave them in the garage at home, but rather bring them along to get oranges and toilet paper.

The dog at the grocery had an orage vest on, and one of those collars that if you tug on it, it will pinch the dog with pokey spikes. The pokey-spike-thing (and the breed) was what alerted me to the farce the owner thought she was pulling.  She was masquerading her dog as a helping dog, so that it could come shopping with her.  I'm sure no one would ask her to leave.  One, because you would not want to insult someone by questioning their motives, and two, the dog could kill you and your small children if you got close enough to talk to her.  

I know folks who raise helping dogs.  They are labs.  They are not intimidating.  They are endearing, soft and well behaved.  They are smart.  They do not require special spiky collars.  If you see one in the store, you are not afraid.  No one is fooling me (or rather for very long)!!

Moving Box

I think the cat does not want to be left behind.  The thought has crossed my mind.  I guess I should wait to tape up this box?

A Winner Never....

"The Upside of Quitting"

I initially listened to this podcast because I thought the title was, "The Upside of Quilting".  I was pleasantly surprised that it was about "quitting" not "quilting", though both would be nice to hear about.

Sometimes being dyslexic is exciting, because you never really know what you are going to get, or if you are at the right address, at the right time.  It can be interesting, or embarrassing, but I am choosing interesting.   If you ask my husband, he would pick "annoying", and to his "annoying" I would say, "I make it worth it".

Not quitting got me to the top of Mt. Whitney

Back to the quitting thing.  This episode made me feel better about myself.  It made me remember that my failures are often stepping stones.  What a terribly boring saga, if all I did was win, win, win.  There are times I have quit at winning.

In college I never got a "B".  I only got "A's".  I'll admit that I chose something that was not terribly intellectual, but I still tried hard.  I learned what professors wanted, and I gave it to them 91%-100% of the time.  By the time my senior year came around, I no longer cared about getting good grades, but by then I had a 4.0 and 4 months of school left.

My last semester, a speech professor told our class that she did not give "A's".  That was throwing down the gauntlet, as far as I was concerned.  It was on!!  I was going to have to get "A's" my last semester of university, and I did.  Really?  A speech class that no one gets and "A" in?  She did give me a 89.4%, and I went to her and pointed out that her assessment of our speeches, by nature, was subjective.  It was not a math class, and her margin of subjectiveness would bump me into the "A" range.  I graduated Summa Cum Laude.

A few years later, after one semester of Grad school, I flunked out.  I received a letter from University of Nevada, Reno, stating I was not longer qualified to participate in their university education.  I failed because I quit 2/3 of the way through the semester, knowing what quitting meant.

What a liberating feeling, to be a quitter.  Since then, I have been striving to be a better quitter.  I did not crumble into a million pieces when I quit grad school.  I survived, and well.  Now, if I don't like a book, I quit reading it.  If I don't like my dinner so much, I quit eating it.  If a movie is terrible (which is often) I turn it off.  I realize those don't cost me much, but it is a start.   Even though I am the first born in my family, I am trying not to act like it.  

Perplexing Story

I love telling the story.

I have seen some fun things that I could tell a story about, and then sad and terrible stories spring up around me.  It makes me reconsider the worth of a story about a dog in a grocery store, or what costumes my kids are wearing for Halloween.  Are those really important stories?

This morning as my kids were eating breakfast with us around the table, talking, energetic and happy, I had to remind myself that this time with them is my story, and it is one that I can't attach any language.  Today is the day I have with them, and it is a beautiful, enchanting saga.

I do want to tell about the dog in the grocery store, but it isn't amazing, or beautiful.  There will be a time for silly stories, but for now it just doesn't seem important to me.