Thanksgiving Day

It's always nice to have an extra day. I get so caught up in the hustle and bustle of work that I forget to take time for myself. After a hearty Thanksgiving dinner, I set out to so some organizing in my craft area.

When I'm planning a project, I love to get messy. I pull out every piece of fabric I own and match them, put them in sunlight and turn them to get the right look. I love to just sit in a pile of fabric and bask in the colors and textures of what might be. And usually, in my hurry to get to work on the next purse or hamburger pillow, I have wads of fabric that are simply thrown back on the shelf to make room for sewing.

I refolded and carefully restacked all of my pieces and put them to sleep for another day. All of the scraps that aren't big enough to fold up are now in a pile on my couch, waiting for the iron. I'm cutting what I can into 3" squares. After that, I'll cut what I can into 2" squares. I think it's time for a scrap quilt!

Now for another day off......

Thanksgiving

We've all read it before. Lists and lists of things of people and things that everyone is thankful for on Turkey Day. Well, not everyone feels quite the same about this holiday. In fact, here is my Top 10 List of what I DON'T HAVE today:

1. I don't have DSL or dial-up.
2. I don't have any worries.
3. I don't have an empty house.
4. I don't have to go to work.
5. I don't have enough room in my refrigerator for all of the
food my mother-in-law prepared.
6. I don't have to stay awake all day.
7. I don't have shoes on.
8. I don't have to watch the clock.
9. I don't have a phone that isn't ringing off the hook with
friends and family wishing me a "Happy Thanksgiving."
10. I don't have to wonder whether or not I'm a child of God.

Stop the Madness!

Somewhere along the way, maybe it was when I turned 35, my digestive tract took a turn for the worse. Since that time, I have gained approximately 80 pounds. Ooh. Even looking at that in actual print makes me squirm. But there it is. Admitting it to myself was the hardest part. But confessing it to others has been entirely something different. So now that I've done that, I think I may be ready to move in an entirely more productive direction.

I have allowed myself to excuse my weight gain for long enough. No, scratch that. I haven't excused it, I have allowed myself to think that I couldn't do anything about it for long enough. I am a comfort eater and have always turned to food as a stress relaxer. This particular digestive problem, however, has turned that attitude into a disaster - an 80 pound disaster.

Now, mind you, I'm no Barbie Doll. I've never been what you would call pretty. I don't think I'm homely but let's face it, I'll never be running for Miss Missouri. And I've never been skinny, either. But I have been more fit than I am now. I guess what I'm trying to say that I don't have any intentions of trying to become something I'm not. I just want to be able to walk up the stairs without being out of breath.

August Vacation

I am from Ohio but currently living in Missouri. It's a long drive between the two states and it makes for infrequent visits with my family.

Just recently, my father and my two twenty-something nieces (and one tag-along boyfriend) made their yearly visit. I look forward to this time with immense anticipation and have many text conversations with my nieces to try and decide how to spend our time. When asking Jennifer what she wanted to do, her stock answer this time was, "Everything."

Well, we didn't quite do everything, but we did do a lot:

1. Watched three movies
2. Made jewelry and clay sculptures
3. Made chocolate-covered strawberries
4. Planned to make several purses (never did get them done)
5. Went to the state fair
6. went to the Main Street Music Hall
7. Made breakfast out of nothing
8. Played putt-putt golf
9. Fed the fish at the state park
10. Bought an iPod Touch :)
11. Painted our toenails
12. Launched sheep
13. Went shopping at Stonecrest Mall
14. Watched Grandpa command fish just like Aquaman
15. Saw an armadillo (finally)

I like to make lists like this because it's such a great reminder of all the fun we had together.

When I look past all the fun, though, I see that of all the places that my family could go on their vacations, they keep coming back here. Then I realize what a blessed aunt and daughter that I am. And I feel loved.

Bam!

For those of you who don't know, my mother-in-law lives with me. There are good things and bad things about it, of course. But she is currently on hiatus in her hometown of Poplar Bluff which means that I get to do the cooking. I'm torn as to whether or not this is a good thing...

I decided that my first task should be to head to the grocery store. After all, you can't cook if you don't have food. Has anyone else ever noticed this?

I began my excursion looking for things I knew I needed: coffee creamer, bread, laundry soap.

I picked out a few things that looked easy enough to fix such as Hamburger Helper (actually I often wonder if it really helps) and some throw-together side dishes. I get several packs of hamburger, some chicken breasts, crackers, etc.

I loaded everything in my car and started to drive home. At about this time, I realize that I don't really have anything to make a real meal. I have completely neglected to plan at all. After four years of not cooking meals, I have forgotten how to go about it.

I guess it's a good thing that that my husband will eat anything you put in front of him. In fact, he eats everything that you put in front of him.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to getting back on the chef horse and using my kitchen again.

And I've decided that yes, it's a good thing.

Finally

Okay. I finally did it.

After MANY years of depression, I have finally made it to see a psychologist. He says that he got the big picture and wants to see me again. I must tell you that this was one of the hardest decisions that I have ever made.

I felt fine going there. Almost cancelled, actually. I parked my car and found my way around the unfamiliar office space rather quickly. I met the receptionist and started filling out the initial paperwork while she cleared me with my insurance. Then it started.

Feelings of worthlessness. Tears. I should be stronger than this. I should be normal. I shouldn't need this. The inevitable bits of Kleenex all around my eyes. I don't want to be here.

He suggested that I feel responsible for how others are feeling. He asked me who put that responsibility on my shoulders. Well, I guess I did.

I told him about W****, S**** and Pastor M*** and how disappointed I was in them (after three years!). I told him about S******** and what happened to her and how I was treated afterwards for trying to stick up for her (this was way back in high school!). Where is the justice? Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord.

I know I need this but I'm not really looking forward to it.

Celebrating

So I'm sitting here pondering my existence, God, my relationships and why on Earth do I have the world's smallest stapler (Sorry, I cannot contain random thoughts at times) when my thoughts turned to yesterday.

Yesterday was a great day. Many wonderful things transpired, some of which I don't dare actually write about. Suffice it to say that the whole day was filled with things that directly affected my near future and made a promise so exciting that I couldn't come down from the ceiling.

I celebrated by having dinner alone. I ate what I wanted with no deep discussions about the entire menu. But there were flashbacks. Ending with my usual "Why don't you order what you want and I'll order what I want and then the waitress will be really happy?!"

Two drafts later I felt like an engorged tick. I was surprised when I actually fit behind the steering wheel and could still reach the pedals.

I went home and watched a couple of shows on TV. The beer made that really easy. There was no other noise in the room. Heaven. I even had the sound turned down low. By that time I knew that if I didn't go to bed soon, I would be up all night. Nine o'clock is a little early even for me but what the heck, I was celebrating, right?

I awoke this morning to the sound of the rain and was in heaven once again. There's just something about the sound of rain that makes me feel as if my soul is being cleansed. A little coffee spurred me on to write this blog.

But wait, what's that?

I think I hear my pillow calling for another toast.

Photo courtesy of winstonberry.com

I Gave

Today:
I gave myself a glance in the mirror.
I gave the washing machine a good workout.
I gave money to the cable, phone and mortgage companies.
I gave a deposit to the teller at the bank.
I gave my violin some attention.
I gave in on an argument.

Then:
I gave a hug to my husband.
I gave a student a little spark of what it feels like to experience music emotionally.
I gave a hand-made baby blanket to a friend.
I gave the baby a kiss.
I gave a student hell for not practicing.
I gave my husband a good back scratching.
I gave another student a shot of confidence.
I gave a concert.

After all that, I'm tired.
I give.

The first time...

On Monday night, the lake area will experience its first youth orchestra concert. I am excited and overwhelmed.

Bows will be rosined, strings stretched. We will warm up and then we will play.

And history will be made. It will be a glorious beginning.

Please join us at the Lake Presbyterian Church in Osage Beach at 7:00 pm this Monday night and support this very important cause. Thank you!

My new friend

He got my phone number from a magazine.
And he called.
And called.
And called.
He said, “I love to play!”
He couldn’t wait to see me.
And he called.
And called. Every day.
“Is this weekend okay?” he asked. “I just love to play.”
She drove, not him. He can’t drive anymore.
Both were old. Very old. Both had walkers.
It was difficult getting them up the stairs and into the house.
And we played, this stranger and I.
Duets, solos – two violins in bad timing and desperately out of tune.
As his wife sat and smiled.
After an hour, she was tired. He could have gone on all night.
And so they drove back – four hours across the state.
All this way just to play one hour with me.

He called today and told me that he had a good time.
“Did you?”
Yes, Richard, my new friend. Our joy was mutual.

Mom

When I was little, my mother was my world.
In elementary school, I thought that things had changed, somehow.
In Junior High, I knew that she didn't like me very much.
In Senior High, I no longer liked her.
In college, we spoke occasionally.
After that, we hardly spoke at all.

After I moved out of state, and thanks to my Lord and Saviour, we reconciled. There were no admissions of guilt. Just an understanding that things shouldn't be the way they had been in the past. We spoke. We loved. She was my mother again.

And now that she's passed away, she is once again my world.

Practice Every Day

When it comes to learning, especially on an instrument, I have long been a proponent of short practice sessions on a daily basis rather than one long one.

Let's take two student examples. Jimmy plays six days out of seven for 15 minutes per day. Johnny returns home from his lesson, puts his instrument in a corner and then waits all week to put an hour and a half in just before his next lesson.

They've both put the same amount of practice time in. However, Jimmy will come to his next lesson confident and prepared and with a greater understanding of what the lesson was all about. Johnny will play as if he's not practiced at all.

The constancy of daily practice goes a long way toward evolving your playing from point A to point B. Your brain has time to absorb, sort and calculate all of the minute activities that have to happen to make your performance consistent and available at a moment's notice (i.e., the day of the concert!!!).

Practicing only just in time for a lesson only exhausts you. (And your teacher.)

The bigger question really is: how much do you really enjoy playing? Think about it!

Lake Area Strings

By the way, this is my adult string ensemble, the Lake Area Strings, collectively. We are currently preparing for a concert on the 18th of May.

We are also guest appearing on a concert for the benefit of Medical Missions for Christ on the 19th of April.

Top left is Paul Morrison, viola; bottom left is Lyn Hoeft on violin with Penny Williams across from her on the right. Top right is Mike Nichols on the 'cello and that's me in the middle.

Not pictured here is Dr. Thomas Hoeft who joined us regularly after this photo was taken.

E-mail me at fiddlin1@gmail.com if you'd like to be on our mailing list for future concert information.

For Samantha

I love to take things apart and put them back again.

I'm getting ready to work on a violin and potentially do some things to it that I don't really understand just yet. You know, you'd think as long as I've been around these instruments that I would know a little more. The technical stuff is usually left to the experts, though, so I've always taken my violins to someone else to have work done.

I have to cut a bridge and possibly move a soundpost. And new strings, of course. I hope the thing still plays when I'm done with it.

Samantha is waiting....

I Could

I could organize my scrapbooking supplies.
I could practice my violin.
I could clean my bathroom.
I could exercise.
I could fix this old violin.
I could organize my Strings music.
I could do laundry.
I could go to Wal-Mart.
I could fly to the moon.

I could!

Lessons in Lessons

I give violin lessons. Lots of them.

Kids never cease to amaze me. Their ability to learn. Their ability to do as little as possible. Their ability to exceed their wildest imaginations. Their ability to be adults.

Teaching a child and seeing their eyes light up at a new thought learned or a new skill developed is just about the most awesome thing I've ever witnessed.

I'm blessed beyond words to be able to experience it over and over again.

Blogging

I love diaries. Well, blank ones at least.

It always starts with the best of intentions. "Every day," I tell myself, "I'm going to write what I've done so I can look back some day and remember all the tiniest details." Then after three whole days of loyal diligence, I skip a day, then a week, then a month and then the point seems to get away from me. I think I'm just busy.

Well, this time it will be different. This time I have a reason to keep going. Now I have to learn how to diary...er...um...blog.....because of my job.

I hope they know what they're getting into.