Merry Christmas!

I'm not obligated to write anything today. But I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas!
Frohe Weihnachten!
Feliz Navidad!
Here we come, 2016!
Enjoy some family pictures:

Lights, Writing, Action!

Hey, so it's been a long time. That's a fact. Because I'm on break though, I am hoping to do a short series of written but unpublished drafts that have been collecting over the last couple months and even years. That means they are not necessarily events that are happening. It also means I have probably moved on to different struggles. However, just because my life adventure doesn't totally match up with my posts doesn't mean that someone else can't benefit.

I've come to realize that I really like hearing people's stories. People are amazing. Stupid, yes, but God did an incredible bit of work creating us. The capacity some people have to make it through trials. I've been reading about the Khmer Rouge regime in Cambodia and how people struggled for survival. Their fight to live. It amazes me.

But even here at home. It is so helpful for me to hear that other people struggle too. It seems dumb, but it's something we all wonder. 'Why am I the only one with problems?' We think. Listening to others recount tales of woe and eventual triumph is so encouraging. I marvel at how hard it must have been but see also that they made it out alive if not completely whole. This gives me hope that pushing through some things it may seem like we're stumbling through a dark and muddy tunnel, moving less than an inch at a time. The light at the end is blocked out but keep moving one millimeter at a time and it is bound to reveal at least a dot of light.

Reaching the other side is so worth it. I've been on both ends of the tunnel. I don't quite know where I am right now, it changes a lot. One day I'll be running towards the light when it turns out to be just a reflection and then I hang out in the mud for a while.

This is why I write. I think it's important for society as a whole to try to help each other a little more instead of wishing something could be done. Do it while you're young, while the fire is still lit. Don't let it die because people scoff at you. The reason for that is because they are ashamed they have done nothing themselves. This is my little way of fighting back. As a blogging community, I think we can learn from each other. Because people don't change the world by thinking about it. I think it's safe to say everyone dreams of changing the world for the better. Sorry to say, this isn't Disney world because dreams don't come true. Only actions cause results. Therefore, the world can be changed, even if it's one little action at a time.

Be looking for the promised posts. I really will try. Perhaps there will be something for you. I'm always here, always listening, just not as on top of things as I'd like to be. I'll be around so keep watching.

Blogger's Block

Day 66
I feel as if I'm writing one of those survival journals. Like I'm out in the wilderness or on an island and food is running low. I have enough water to last one more week and then I'm gone. Except I'm not in want of anything except hot water. 66 days give or take some since the water heater broke. The latest installment is that we now have the heater, but need someone to replace it with the old one.

I have a new plan. Let's say that my goal is to blog once a year. Okay, well maybe once a month. Really I think I'll aim for every other week but if I say less that way no one expects a post every week and if I am able to make it more frequent, then I get extra credit. With it being my last year in Hogwarts, I've got to make sure I leave behind a legacy. Problem is, I've had Blogger's Block. This isn't so much a lack of ideas but a lack of energy and focus to flesh them out. So I figured combatting this problem was much like writer's block the answer to which is to write garbage until you catch your thought trains and hop on. So that's what this post will be/ (is already if you hadn't noticed); A bunch of nothing on subjects with little depth or insight.

Part of the problem is that I'm a little bit of a perfectionist. I don't finish posts that don't have much content or aren't long enough. Except who decides whether something is long enough? I do! I was just looking back at some of my old posts from way back in 2014. There were some really short ones. As in a paragraph or two. Probably less than 500 words. They weren't immensely interesting at all so I guess it won't kill me to add some others. Perhaps I'll add a label called Junk under which I can put bad posts so they aren't read with equal scrutiny. Speaking of 2014, I have now missed my second blog anniversary! July 19th, 2013. Know what happened on that revolutionary day? I published my first ever post about myself and my cats! I can't believe it has been two years. I wish one could major in blogging. Or get paid for it. Then again maybe if I was forced to write then I wouldn't like it.

My thought is that if I post this, at least I will have accomplished a week's worth and can move on instead of feeling stuck. Like finally deciding to write a thank you already months late. It's not that I haven't wanted to, but nothing seemed worthy and I haven't been able to finish anything. There I've nailed the pin on the head. Is that an expression? What I mean is, I am bored with my writing and that surely means you are too. I'm already bored with this and I've given myself permission to write whatever.

How about school. I haven't said anything about that yet. First week went well. I was prepared and it felt almost as if I'd never left. Of course I had to start things out right on the second week of classes by staying up 'til 1:45 the night before.

Gosh I wish I had WiFi. I wish I had a hot water heater for pities sake!

This will be an interesting year.

Rooftop Internet

I think we'll be giving the announcement that we're going Amish any day now. This will be going on week 6 or maybe 7 without a hot water heater. A new alternative is using the gross and usually cold showers at the pool. We are also still stuck without a car although this week, amusingly, we have three. Many of my friends family's are out of town and offered up their cars for us to use.

One other luxury I do not have is internet. How did this get published? You might ask. I like to call it Rooftop internet. I am outside, in the dark, on the roof, looking like a creeper and sitting in a very specific spot in order to get the neighbor's web waves. Cool huh? It's a relatively new discovery. Only problem is, it only works during the wee hours because I'm not about to go sitting on the roof in broad daylight. The next door neighbors (who's internet I am actually not using) would probably freak. Some pluses to R.I. are being out under the stars, and learning people's night schedules. Bad part is it only gets one bar or two at most so it's not that reliable. Now for today's focus:

Surviving 6th year.....
Without internet!

I have made it through what many call the hardest year of school. Add no internet at home and the hardness level automatically doubles. So much is done on the computer. So many papers, so many videos, so much research. Now being on the other end of it, I would like to share my wealth of knowledge.

When I say no internet, I am not being entirely truthful. That is, no internet at home. If the goal were no access at all, which would never have worked, then I've cheated. But I still feel deserving of extra credit for every typed thing I turned in. My teachers didn't know it, but every assignment requiring printing or researching became a game of where can I get connection the easiest and who has the cheapest printers?

I'm getting ahead of myself though. To begin with, the public library was my only option for typing and printing. Which was fine, except documents don't save, printing is 10¢ per page, there are closing hours, and there are a bunch of weirdos who make it hard to concentrate. Then a month or so in I discovered that with a course I was taking, I had a name and password I could use to access the college library. This was better, more private, open longer into the night, and printing cost a mere 4¢ per page.

Things got even better after that. None of this would be possible without my dear brother who gave me his old tablet, thus doubling my technology. Without internet though, you might say it's useless and at the library why not use the computers? Well, to a certain extent that's true. I still took late night pilgrimages or frantic early trips to the library in order to print forgotten or last minute papers, but emails and class blogs were much easier to get at.

Throughout the year I formed a list of "checkpoints" or spots I could connect to the Internet. There were the two libraries, so even when they were closed I could stand outside in emergency and connect. Then there was the whole campus internet which I randomly had a guess at while I was babysitting and found that it worked. That brought connection to within five minutes of the house and was a huge help as I spent so much time on campus anyway. Finally, my last check point became brother's house and computers which I fell into the rhythm of hogging every Sunday after lunch in order to have a marathon of homework and hopefully finish assignments requiring web access.

I had my school WiFi password but for some reason it didn't work. Although it wouldn't have been useful anyways because everything would have to be completed already. Half way through the year I made the joyful discovery of coming across passwords in the library at the school I work at. That was nice to have a full hour at the mid point of the week while I waited for kids to show up or for my ride home.

Other random places I occasionally connected to were restaurants or stores with guest WiFi. Panera was a frequent on my list. I love to study there. God really showed me he was taking care of me with all the ways I was able to keep up with school. Sure, it took a little creativity, and definitely stress, but who else can say they made it through 6th year without internet? Honestly I think I kept more on top of those assignments than other students with 24/7 access. Yes, I may have spent one winter night outside watching an hour long documentary I forgot to watch. Yes, I definitely typed a whole paper with my thumbs and printed it half an hour before class. And I definitely submitted multiple blog comments at 11:59 p.m., a minute before their deadline.

I am not sure what to expect with 7th year approaching. Hopefully there is less need, but at least I know I can do what must be done. God will provide. In fact, In recent weeks since school let out, internet has traveled as close as possible without entering the house. A kind neighbor down the street got a new internet provider and thus a new password. As she set it up, she happily remembered me and wrote the code down. Now I can get internet at the bottom of my stairs, and on the roof.

So how exactly can you survive 6th year without internet? Well, start with a tech savvy brother who has his own fast computer he let's you take over once a week. Then in pursuit of bigger and better, you might inherit his tablet, and then you simply have to find all the places in town that have free internet connection. I don't know what I would have done without this magical device. My blog posts are only able to continue through it.

Take a moment to be thankful for your 3G, at&t, or whatever provides your home internet. It doesn't seem to be something teachers question in today's society. Thankfully, at Hogwarts, books have not yet been totally replaced and much of my homework is still doable without it.

I am off to bed now, my feet are getting scratched by the shingles and Lily might be trying to come out. Goodnight.

The Sick, Dead, and Dying

This is a post which I have adapted/ added to which I never completed last summer after visiting my Opa. It has some bits which aren't true to timing, but I've chosen to leave them. The original title was Realities...you'll see why.

Reality number one, summer is over.
Reality number two, school is starting.
Reality number three, all good things on earth must come to an end.
Reality number four, this post is late.

The Sick
My house, as you might know from last week, has become a hospital for sick cats. Fred and George decided to get sick within a few days of each other. Now they are both home and steadily recovering. George you might never have known was sick. Differences as a result of this drama include diet changes, and for now at least, a pill. Each cat has successfully claimed their own personal food needs. So now Lily eats with George downstairs, Lily eats the boring dry food and George gets spoiled with a scoop of prescribed dry and a little wet. Meanwhile upstairs Fred is scarfing down chicken. The twins are on the same medication for swollen bowls and they are both due for a follow up appointment sometime in the next week or two. The ordeal has reminded me how much we take health for granted. Life is so temporary. A seemingly healthy cat one day might be dying the next. I'd like to note that the sick stage is hardest for me. I don't like others to be in pain. The uncertainty of of whether it is goodbye or if a cure is possible is something that haunts me.

The Dead
I don't often contemplate death even knowing it could happen at any minute. Lately however, with three Old relatives, one of whom might not be far off, I've had to. I have been to more funerals in my life than weddings. Two of those I supplied the music for. Four of them were for relatives. Causes have been old age ailments, cancer, and suicide. Just this week I attended a service for Elizabeth Elliot, an incredible woman whose husband and his group of friends were killed by a tribe they were bringing the gospel to. Elizabeth and her daughter then lived with that very same tribe for many years afterword. This particular service was good. Many friends, and relatives spoke of their memories. Joni Eareckson Tada was the big speaker which I didn't know until I was there. In general, I don't know what I think about funerals and burials. Perhaps it seems as if too much emphasis is put into holding on to those passed. I mentioned that I handle sickness worse than death, at least I think I do. At funerals, and I am including those for whom I was directly related, I cannot cry. Perhaps I am cold and unfeeling but I can recall sitting in services among other mourners who were weeping their eyes out and I could not summon a tear. Does this make me a horrible person? You could excuse me for being young at the time, but I do not think that children feel things any less strongly than adults. This was all merely an aside, I am not going to linger on the subject.

The Dying
I have been off in the far flung corners of the states, soaking up the last bit of freedom and sunshine. Along with that, I have been visiting with the Old, and with that came the awful realisation that no matter how great you live your life, we will nearly all leave this world as pitiful and clueless as we came into it. Needing help possibly even more. So small, forgetful, and broken. The Old are simply little wisps, hovering around, worrying about what they cannot control and wondering what they are forgetting.

I am reminded of a quote by T.S. Elliot which says,
"Death has a hundred hands and walks by a thousand ways."*

I'm not sure exactly what it means, but it sounds creepy and expresses how death is unavoidable. Another quote goes,
"A man may walk with a lamp at night, and yet drown in a ditch."

No matter if you follow the most regimented workout schedule and eat super healthy. No matter if you work from home and never drive a car. No matter if you spend your entire life holed up in an empty room and have your food delivered to you through a cat door, death will find you. It's like Sleeping Beauty who, threatened with the curse of 100 years of sleep if pricked by a spindle, took precautions to banish every sharp object from the kingdom. Of course, one little slipup is what got her in the end. But who would want to live with that kind of fear and never take risks? It's like that proverb about the fool who says he won't go outside because there might be a lion in the road. Well you might also have a heart attack. Or be bitten by a disease carrying insect. The what-ifs are endless.

I just finished reading a book by Madeleine L'Engle called Summer of The Great-Grandmother. It was very good and I'd recommend it to anyone because at some point almost every person has or will have to deal with an aging parent. It helped me know how to handle my grandma when she asks who I am, or when she points at the tv commercial and says something big is going to happen. Or asks where I live for the 100th time. She can't help it. Doesn't know she's doing anything out of the ordinary. It scares me though, when I can't get myself to laugh it off. Will mother be like that? Will I?

"We have gone on living,
Living and partly living."

Being Old just doesn't seem like there is much life left enough to live. A shriveled shell which is susceptible to viruses, cuts, and diseases. They must be careful whatever they do. Their schedules involve menial tasks which they spend hours on when in reality it should take minutes. When they go places they must hurry not to be late and then hurry home so they can do nothing.

"I am not in danger: only near to death."

I would like to point out that dying isn't something God designed when he created the world. It came as a result of sin. Still, if you know where you're going, it isn't something to fear because glory is on the other side. As Revelation 21:4 puts it,
"He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever."

Okay, enough on that. I'll end by writing briefly about something we don't usually associate with death: babies. They signify more like new life, right? So a day or so after I got home from the trip, I got a call asking if I could watch a 14 week old baby while the granny was away. This is new...and only a month after being asked about watching an almost newborn! That's the third one this year. Who decided I would be good with babies? I agreed, and have become officially impressed and empathetic for mamas with little babies. I babysat this kid for ten days, 8 and a half hours per day. That felt like a looong time. I think a full time job is something like 40 hours a week. I was doing 42 and a half. But I can't imagine what 24 hours seven days a week would be like. Add on a couple more young children who can crawl and walk? Ahhhhh! I'm pretty sure I am going to be having nightmares about crying babies for at least a week.

I'm going to stop now because, and here's a last quote,
"Human kind cannot bear very much reality."

*all quotes from today's post unless otherwise noted are from Murder in the Cathedral by T.S. Elliot

Home Sweet Home

I am probably done with my travels for the summer, the big journeys anyhow. I got my dose of summer, even if it's not going to visit me. However, getting back home again I had a lot of exciting things to look forward to. A couple include: no air conditioning, no internet, no car, no hot water, a disgusting kitchen, and sick cats. I said it was exciting.

Yeah, so maybe getting home wasn't a thrill. The air conditioning I can deal with, the internet is closer than it might have been, and the car has been out for months. But the broken water heater? Not fun. Can't even take showers because it's got a dial instead of separate handles for hot and cold which makes the spigot not work at all. Guessed it yet? This means cold baths. Not just cold as in the refreshing showers you might challenge yourself to take once in a while when it's hot. No, this is ice cold water. Lake Michigan cold. Makes your brain freeze every time you go under. It's been a couple weeks now but thankfully a hot water isn't in the same league as a car that the P.U. thinks we can do without.

Also when we got home the kitchen was nasty. What's new? Flies everywhere, and odors of rot and who knows what else. I could barely feed the cats it was so gross. The cats. I left knowing Fred was lighter than he had been before, but I didn't think I'd come home to a skeleton. Not dead, no, but ravaged. I could feel his spine and see his hollow sides. The little meow he had regained was completely gone. Then there was the multiple piles of urp. We waited another day, realized he was not getting any better, and brought him in Wednesday to get weighed. He had lost nearly 3 and a half pounds. What is that for a cat? A quarter or a third of his total body weight? Things weren't looking good. The doctor was booked until Tuesday. Fred couldn't wait that long. We brought him home and hoped for a cancelation. 

On Thursday, it came. The phone rang and I picked it up. It was the clinic saying they could take him at 5:00. I wasn't sure how I'd get him there, but he needed the appointment so I said I'd take it.

Two hours later, I came to the conclusion that I would be walking Fred the half mile to the clinic. So I packed him into the pet taxi, and off we went, slowly but surely. 20 long minutes later, with very sore arms, we arrived with time to spare. As we sat in the waiting room, I felt like someone waiting to hear if their best friend has cancer. I let Fred out and he curled up behind my back and began purring. When the nurse came in Freddy continued purring through the exam. She told him he was a sweet cat and he liked that. Then the Dr. came for his part, and said that losing so much weight was bad. I knew that. Then he felt around Fred's belly and said that his artery walls were thickened. That was the most likely reason Fred wasn't able to keep his food down.

He also voiced the suspicion that there could be fluids that shouldn't be there, which, he didn't say directly, but probably meant eminent death. That was a scary thought. But after taking Fred back and running a quick test, he said there was nothing there. What they'd do then would be take some blood so they could run a panel and also test for Leukemia. I could pick one or the other or both. I didn't know what to do. I got some numbers of how much it would cost and called my sister. After consulting, we went ahead and told them to run both tests. He said the results would come in the morning. I began the trek home and it started to rain. I draped my raincoat over Fred's carrier so he wouldn't get wet and arrived home sore, wet, and worried.

Friday morning I took the call and the Dr. explained all Fred's levels of health. The gist was that Fred did not have leukemia, but a case of severely enflamed bowels. All I had to do was pick up some antiinflammatory pills, follow the dosage, and he should be fine. I picked them up ready to begin that night. Relief.

Then, Monday night, I came home from rehearsal to find George outside lying on the ground, face in a bowl of water, lying completely still as if dead. Not George! I thought. The dear p.u. said I'd have a dead cat if I didn't do anything about it. I nearly lost my wits. I picked him up and brought him in. He was cold. More than normal. So I frantically began thinking of a friend who would still be awake and whose car we could take to get George to the emergency care. I found someone, and after much anxiety trying to find the clinic, got him in. Waiting. I was a complete mess by this time, and was unhelpfully thinking
"No, Fred dies first! George loses an ear, but Fred dies." I guess that shows where my heart is. What a jerk I am. After a minute with the nurse, she said his temperature was low and took him to the back. I knew that was a bad sign. Waiting. 

Then the Dr. came in and explained very bluntly how George had a urinary tract infection, his pee was blocked which was fatal, and how he was near exploding point. It is what Fred had last year, and is apparently the most common emergency they see in male cats.

Dr. then said what the procedure was, how some die in the process, how Georgie's kidneys might be damaged, all the things that could go wrong, whether or not we wanted George to be given CPR if his heart should stop. I suppose he mentioned at some point that the procedure had a high success rate, but mainly I heard that George was about to die because of his elevated levels. Of course we gave the okay and after a short visit, George was taken behind closed doors. Before he went, I whispered in his ear "hang in there George." Waiting. About 1:00 a.m. they were finished with the chancy part. He'd made it, peed, and we could think about his future. He was transferred to our local clinic in the morning. Waiting.

George has been there since Tuesday now. They are keeping him while he recovers. He has a catheter still so they can see when his pee isn't bloody, an IV connected by a tiger bandage to his paw for hydration so they can keep him cleaned out, and a cone collar so he doesn't mess any of it up. I visited him on Wednesday, Thursday, and today. My designated driver was along as well, and though I know I'm being irrational, was being slightly annoying because I don't agree with people only petting and enjoying a cat when they're sick. 

Anyhow, George is doing well and they said he can come home tomorrow. He'd have been back today except he had another bout of red and they wanted that monitored. George has everyone there loving him, of course. Who can help themselves from falling for a drugged kitty who is already overly friendly? One of the nurses called him a dork. It's not just me, he's special. He seems to be enjoying himself though. They say he likes all the flavours of food so far, and always wants belly rubs. I pick him up in the morning.

I'm still worried about Fred. I thought he'd gained weight because he wasn't throwing up, but now I'm not so sure. I think we'll bring him in for a weight check tomorrow as well. I wish these dear twins could just be cute as always and not cause all kinds of heart wrenching trouble. God is definitely testing my trust and how I view my pets. I always thought of Fred as a kind of younger brother because he is so annoying. He meows, he eats icky food, he smells, he catches gross animals and eats them, and he is always sticking his wet nose at me. But like a younger brother, however much I sometimes am angry with him, I don't want him to die. I would miss that cracked meow, cuddly head, motorcycle purr, and long nose. He's the only semi normal cat we have. And what would George do without his brother?

I already have a post picked for next week, the topic in any case. Tune in if you're in need of some more depression in your life. I'm off to do some more waiting.

MC part 2

It's still Friday and here is Part 2, as promised.

The viola professor. I don't know how to describe her. She's a super cool person, has very much her own style, and a way of speaking that makes everyone like her. Demanding at the same time though, it's a strange combo. By the end of my first lesson I was already so much better. I've been working on the same dratted piece on and off for about a year and a half. I didn't practice it much except for a few isolated measures because I didn't like the piece. I listened to other people play it, but couldn't get myself to enjoy it at all. Until music camp. My ears were opened up not only to how painfully lifeless and boring I was playing it, but how I could fix it, make it interesting to play and listen to.

Now I really like it. It's still probably not my favorite, but there is real music in there if only I pay attention. That probably made up half of the lessons I learned. Listen. Listen to yourself, both to what sounds bad and what sounds good. Enjoy what is pretty. We musicians too often get stuck on the bad, ignoring all the good and beautiful, never truly enjoying what we play.

Something mentioned during devos or a career lecture, can't remember which, made me feel pretty good about myself and music in general. About how music lessons are helpful in so many different ways beyond learning the instrument itself. The process of learning it teaches skills such as focusing on super small details. Working effectively to get the smallest trills perfect. A surgeon better pay darn close attention to little details, because if she doesn't, things aren't gonna go well. There was an amazing opera singer who went on to become a very successful lawyer using the skills she'd developed. Confidence from performances, and the ability to tell convincing stories which no doubt came from the many dramatic roles she played in operas.

I didn't get a lesson on the third day because my teacher has a couple week old baby and understandably can't be everywhere and do everything anymore. That was disappointing, but also means I have an extra lesson to look forward to over the summer. Instead of our lessons, I got to play the coolest viola duets ever with a councilor who is also a violist. We were given them with the instruction to have fun and enjoy great viola music together. Which we did. Who knew there was sight readable interesting music for violas out there?

My last lesson was super fun. Mainly because she said she wanted me to be in her viola studio class during the year. It's like a group masterclass lesson for viola majors. She thought it would be beneficial for me but also for her students. So I said yeah, I'd love to! And then she asked if I would babysit for her during a class she teaches. Of course I said yes! I got to start right away though because Baby was asleep and Mrs. G was teaching another lesson after mine. So I carried Baby around the halls for a little over 30 minutes probably. It seemed like a long time though because my arms got so tired. Mothers must develop huge muscles from having children. First iron feet and back before the baby's born, then carrying around weights balanced on their forearms non stop, weights which are always getting heavier.

Okay, sorry for the tangent. The last thing, non chronologically, that we worked on was vibrato. I know that I have a rather terrible vibrato. My hand is too tense and in order to have smooth and controllable vibrato, it must be relaxed. It might be the one technique that frustrates me more than any other. I've had numerous teachers give tips on learning it, one who I've mentioned before. He's kind of famous. He said to hold the wrist against the shoulder in third position so that it would stay still and only move above where it is stuck to the instrument. Work on it every day and it will be immensely better in two months. Two years and I'll have it down, worst case scenario.

I have a lesson with the camp teacher and she says that vibrato isn't or shouldn't be wrist motion, it's the whole arm. Which is so different! I can't just switch by thinking about it. My entire vibrato career has been from the wrist. I hadn't gotten far with the other instruction either, but arm vibrato is starting from scratch. So I'm not sure who to listen to. The older and perhaps wiser? Or the other who is also talented and uses arm vib? I suppose if I were to study with her further, I would go with her technique.

Enough musical terms. I think I've probably bored you to tears. I will finish with a description of free time, which there wasn't much of. One thing we did was square dance. Yep, musicians are cool like that. And we had real live fiddle music to dance to. When I say we, I don't really include myself because I was simply watching with some others. The dance only required eight. We also played Ultimate Frisbee, walked through downtown at 10:00 for ice cream that no one ended up buying, and watched big hero 6 while eating popcorn.

On Saturday we had a recital for anyone who had signed up and wanted to play. I soloed the exposition I had fixed up and my quartet played our piece. Both went well, as did the rest of the recital. Then came packing, number exchanges, a last lunch, and farewells. I could have gone for another week. It was an experience I shan't soon forget.

Music Camp Part 1

Go ahead and say it. I'm an unreliable, untrustworthy, irresponsible, inconsistent, deceptive, oath breaking and lazy blogger who can't manage my time or priorities. Summer seems just as full as the school year but in a sneaky way. Each Friday comes and goes and I'll lie in bed thinking "darn, I didn't post today!" *sad face* Though we are now into July, I'm going to go back a bit into the middle of June in which I wrote the beginning of this post.

I just had one of if not the best week of my life! I have been at music camp with some of the coolest, friendliest people I'll probably ever meet, super great professors, funny councilors, and one awesome viola teacher. Seven whole days spent living on the other side of the train tracks. But seriously, it was incredible. Stick 17 Christian musicians together and there are instant friendships.

God works in a mysterious way. What started as a camp that didn't look like it was going to make it off the ground turned into the perfect amount of attendance for a terrific week. I signed up not sure how I would pay for it. In the end a number of people contributed money so that I could go. That was just the beginning of God showering blessings.

I was the only local kid at camp, others coming from places as far as Indonesia, Philippines, and Alaska. It was kinda fun being asked for directions. I've practically lived on campus this past year with orchestra and all. It was weird getting to take lessons from professors, most of whom I have known since I was a little tyke. But enough sentimentality. About the camp.

Every morning we had breakfast at 8ish(a.m.!!). Then afterwards we had group devotions which might have been one of my favourite parts.
We reflected a lot on the verse Ephesians 2:10
"For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them."
And decided that even if that were the only verse in the whole Bible, it would be enough to think about and enough comfort to ponder for a lifetime. The other thing we did was read through a short book called Art For God's Sake. Each chapter was assigned to a pair of kids who volunteered to read it beforehand and then prepare a little summary/ lesson. I surprised myself and volunteered to lead the second to last chapter. Of course, despite our best intentions, the other girl and I didn't get a chance to talk about it with each other until a couple minutes beforehand that morning, but it worked out.

After devos we headed to "movement class." This alternated between two techniques called Alexander and Feldenkrais. I definitely preferred one over the other. Whereas one is feel good stretching with some yoga-ish poses, the other we spent the entire 45min lying on our backs on a mat trying to visualize and feel each individual vertebrae along our spines move up and down. Someone was snoring quietly during it.

Next on the schedule was practice time, which didn't turn out to be enough at all. However, some practice is better than my usual none and it was probably more productive than if I had been given a few hours. After a short period which seemed like only enough to get unpacked, it was lecture time. Some of these were about applications, a bit about majors, volunteering, careers in music, and two were spent with one very vivacious music history prof. He is one of the most energetic, passionate- about- music guys I've met. On two nights we went into the city for orchestra concerts. The afternoon before each of these, we had the pleasure of previewing the concert pieces, composers, and were told what themes to listen for by the history prof.

Normally, I'd much rather play music than listen to it. But this guy made it so interesting, that everyone caught the bug. During both nights I could recognize parts the prof. had pointed out. I focused much better. Ooh and the first time we went, the Walton viola concerto was played! I was probably the only one that liked it that much. The second concert, both were outdoors, it rained. And everyone was wet and varying levels of miserable. I didn't mind all that much because it's okay to be having a bad time if it's together with friends. All in all, the concerts were good.

The first night, instead of the outdoor orchestra, we watched a faculty recital. I love the music profs and it was sooo fun to hear them perform. My favorite was a cello and viola duet (my two instruments!). They were having so much fun together and you could hear it, feel it, and see through the music and the way they smiled and communicated with one another. Almost everyone said it was their favourite too. Why are violists so made fun of?

Theory class, surprisingly, was a blast. I'm not sure I learned all that much because half of it I knew and the other half I can't remember, but the teacher was hilarious. He was almost always making jokes, or puns, and brought in desserts twice. Then came the best part of each day; lessons. First was a group/technique class. This I could have cared less about because, as the only violist, I was in it with a bunch of violins. I learned a couple useful tips though. It was after that that was great. Private lessons with Mrs. G.

You'll have to wait until next week for that though. I've decided to split this up into two parts because I can, and because it's long. Tune in next week to read about what I learned during lessons, a dilemma in advice, and exciting news about prospects for this school year. You won't want to miss it.

Musical Cars

I have a theory that someone's personality can be determined based on the music they listen to while driving. I have been without a working car since about the beginning of March, so I have had a number of lifts with other people. Here are just a few types of music/ radio I've come across:

1. Opera
This was on the way home with a couple I like to call Frog and Toad...I won't say why. It was very softly playing in the background but honestly, who listens to opera? I'm not a huge fan. Anyway, it tells me that either one or both lead rather hectic professional lives. Not sure what's calming about incomprehensible shrieking, but to each her own.

2. Accordion
Honestly I'm not sure what to make of this one. I am told that she bought the CD not knowing what was on it and now enjoys turning it on to bother her children. Nearly every track sounds the same. I suppose enjoyment of this could signify needing time to zone out with some mindless music after escaping a crazy household.

3. Child sing-along
I feel pretty bad when I get in a car and hear this. Sometimes they turn it off, but this is a huge indication of a mother perhaps slightly overwhelmed by looking after small children. She may even begin singing along with it. Don't act like it's weird, it's her life.

4. K-love
This might be the most common among friends. It's just kinda always on in the background. It's okay, in my opinion, but my biggest peeve with it is that it is soo repetitive! It's fine to circle around the same 10 songs for a week maybe, but not in the same day. It gets old. I think it's for people who can't handle silence. Who can honestly listen to the same song all the time and really be thinking about the words?

5. Moody radio
This is frequently on during the morning and night around my place. It is Christian radio with a mix of sermons from different speakers and also music. It could possibly be most listened to by people with nothing to do but also those in need of help. A couple times a day it is also useful for weather and news, with my favourite meteorologist; Joe Lundberg!

6. Rock
I spent two years car pooling a 45 min. drive to orchestra and back with this girl who really liked rock music. As a result I got a lot of experience I never wished to have. I'm not sure what personality likes it. Slightly unsettled or unsure of themselves? Not usually one that I would say enjoyed classical music as well, but I'm not sure. There are different types of rock but this seemed a little more tuneless and laid back than say heavy metal. That could be something entirely separate though. I feel educated and well rounded as a result of those times. Now I can truthfully say from experience that rock music isn't my cup of tea.

7. Country
Now I like country music, the real kind, but last year I drove up to camp listening to nothing but country-ish/ bluegrass-ish music and old time radio the entire six hour ride. For a long time after that I was very sick of it, as was everyone else besides our driver. Only a true fan could stick it out that long. Maybe he likes a predictable life. Once a good genre is found, there seems no need for variety. And by old time radio shows, I mean really really old shows with the straight forward plots, deep, southern accented narrator, and cheesy sound effects.

8. Dulcimer
I didn't know there was so much dulcimer music in the world...until I rode to a convention with my teacher. Her entire iPod is full of it. Fiddle tunes, Irish tunes, Scottish, bluegrass, hymns, you name it. Mountain dulcimer might get the prize for being able to play more genres of music than any other instrument I know. Those who listen to it indicate quirky, right brained people who aren't afraid what others think.

9. Classical quartets
Being rather involved in music, I know a number of people who do this. Don't they ever get sick of it? Not to say that I don't listen to classical music, quartets are even my favorite, but in the car I feel like I'd rather a different atmosphere. It's too complex to be listening to with only half a mind. Especially Brahms or Shostakovich. Leave that for the practice room.

10. Gregorian chants + old music
I have a professor who I wouldn't be surprised at all if he has an iPod full of this stuff and listens to it in the car. We are always watching weird videos for homework and frequently listening to his favorite ones in class. These are all signs of a serious history nerd with a lot of extra time to surf the net.

11. Audio books!
Occasionally a car will turn on and along with it, a book in the middle of a chapter. I suppose they think it rude to leave on so I never hear more than a couple words before it gets turned off. I believe audio book listeners tend to have somewhat stressful jobs and listen to books to cool down or so they don't have to think about the craziness they just left. This might be a separate category, but I believe one snippet I heard was from a cookbook. I've never heard of cookbooks on audio before, but it sounds awful. I'm not sure I want to know the reasoning behind it.

12. NPR
This is for people who don't like boring rides. Not everything is interesting on it, but it fills the silence and usually has a good story or fact to teach.

13. News
For boring people who enjoy being depressed.

14. Loud, obnoxious Screamo
Need I say more?

So what is your go to station? Do you fit in with any of the quirky personalities above? Or are you that person who doesn't listen to anything but enjoys the peace and quiet? I admit I was slightly more interested in the wide variety of music than in actually interpreting people, but it definitely could be done. Muggle radios have yet to be installed in broomsticks though, so I haven't listened to any road music lately.

Busy as a Bee

My dear, faithful readers,
I am sorry to have been M.I.A. for so long, it was very unintentional. Had I known I would have told you. I don't believe I wrote a single post the entire school year! Life happened. I was extremely busy. Perhaps to excuse myself and because some might find it interesting, here is what most days of the week looked like for me.

Sunday
7:20 rehearsal (on occasion)
8:00 church
9:30 youth group
1:00 lunch visitation
Homework marathon

Monday
Homework
1:30-2:45 class
Homework
4:30-6 orchestra sectional
Work like crazy to finish school homework!!!
3:00 or 4:30am bed

Tuesday
9-3 school
4:15-6 orchestra
6:30-8 awana

Wednesday
11:00 viola lesson
11:45-2:00 babysit
2:30-6:30 teach violin
7:00 youth group

Thursday
11:45 dulcimer lesson
1:00-3:00 science T.A.
4:15-6 orchestra

Friday
12:15-1:30 class
1:45-3:45 babysit
4:00-5:15 babysit elsewhere
6:30 class
8:30 cello lesson

Saturday
8:30 music group rehearsal
10:00 viola or cello choir
11:00-12:30 chamber group

Keep in mind that any of the fifteen minute segments in between are likely used for traveling, not resting! And there is always an extra babysitting job, or extra rehearsal, or extra class prep. that wasn't listed. You may wonder...how does she ever eat? The answer is: I don't! I run around all day on empty with bites of this and that and then I stuff myself at dinner, assuming there is one.

Near the end of the school year, in May, I had a concert at least once every weekend if not two, final papers/projects in every class, and an art show. That meant more rehearsals, more homework, more stress, less food, and no sleep! I was so swamped and nearly went overboard. I didn't even finish about ten of the books I should have ( sorry teachers!). I tried, I really did, but it was just too much. I know I'm whining but I don't mean to. I sincerely loved all of my classes, some more than others, and I wouldn't have dropped any if I could, but I hope 7th year isn't as bad.

So forgive me for not updating. I would have loved to forget about my homework and just blog, but when you're given a second chance at something, and you're paying for it, it's best not to slack. I will be around for the summer at the very least. If I'm being super productive I'll even backtrack into some highlight posts I'd half written during school. Until next time friends :)

Principles To Live By

Hello? Anyone there? I feel as if I should do a brief summary of what I've been doing instead of blogging, but this is all I have ready right now so that will have to wait.

So I was having a lesson with an amazing viola teacher from Oberlin a few months ago and he told me that there were three main principles of practicing. One of them was to make things harder than they have to be. I figure that this is also somewhat of a life skill. In fact it is one that I have unknowingly put into practice.

As I've said before, I do not currently have internet. I might soon celebrate the anniversary of not having it for a year. Now it's not like this hasn't happened before. I spent multiple years before now without it, but at this point in my studies, it has proved a difficult barrier not only for homework, but for communicating as well. But because everything in life has a good reason for happening, I have been looking at the whole situation differently.

In the beginning I was saying how making things harder than necessary will ultimately lead to making them easier. So I was thinking that since I don't have WiFi now, think what a relief if I go on in school and can use theirs! I will not simply take it for granted.

Same thing with driving I suppose. Won't it be nice when I have my own car and don't have to worry about the weather because of riding conditions. Had I grown up using the car all the time for every little errand, I wouldn't know the difference enough to appreciate it.

Another profound thing this teacher told me was that in order to do something well (specifically music) you can't just not do the wrong things, you have to do the right things. This is applicable because as Christians, we can't simply pat ourselves on the back for not doing drugs, or not being mean to people. Even non Christians can be good in that way. The difference should be that someone living for God isn't simply not doing something bad, but is doing something good and helpful to advance his kingdom. If you think about it this should make sense. You say "I haven't stolen anything or killed anyone." Well good for you, but have you loved those who hate you? Have you helped someone out who has less than you?

Bottom line: it isn't what you don't do that is going to accomplish anything, it's only what you do do. That was definitely a new perspective for me. I tend to sit at church listening to the sermon and when I'm not thinking about it, I start this checklist in my head thinking I don't do that, I don't do that, I don't struggle with that, wow I guess I'm good to go. Then I have to think about it and danger signals start flashing in my mind because I'm being prideful.

Last principle, and please read the the explanation or you might take it wrong. Here it is: Practice Wrong! Okay so that doesn't really make any sense. No, I'm not giving you liberty to give up trying to do what is right in favor of what is wrong. The reason this is helpful is because, at least in terms of music, it helps us to see clearer what the right way is. I think this is probably the easiest to apply in other areas because we mess up all the time unconsciously. That's not the helpful part. The lesson of it is only if you can look back at the experience, identify what didn't work, and be able to do better next time.

Want the three principles again? Here you go:
1. Make things harder than they are
2. Don't not do wrong things, do right things
3. Practice wrong

I hope dearly that no one skims and reads just that one part or they will be severely misguided.