Merry Through Music

So our Christmas season officially started on Thursday, Thanksgiving. Not because we went and got a tree (we didn't) and not because we went shopping (we didn't), but because we made some music that evening.

In anticipating other music events this past weekend, I realized that music largely defines the Christmas season for me. The kick-off is rehearsing with the community choir and/or BYU's choral concert, followed mid-month by a rousing carol-sing at our house to celebrate Martin's birthday, followed by the community choir concert my Dad puts on, and ending with the King's College broadcast on Christmas eve. In the last couple of years we have also added the carol service at the Cathedral of the Madeleine; as this somewhat approximates the King's College service, it is probably my favorite. In total, this ends up being some major music event at least once a week in December, not including advent singing or any other concerts that we sometimes attend.

Some years we go to a Messiah sing-in if I am on the ball enough to find out when it is being put on. In college I got to sing the whole piece with the Early Music Ensemble and it remains another of my all-time favorites (this year I started listening to it mid-November). On Sunday Martin and I went with my mom to the sing-in hosted by the Utah Symphony. Although they cut some parts out, it was still great. "Great" is such a weak word, it hardly conveys the bouncing excitement I felt as we ran through the snow storm to make the orchestral tuning or the happy satisfaction and tired voice afterwards. It was worth braving the storm and bad roads.

Our schedule accommodated another concert on Saturday, an organ concert my dad gave at a private residence in Holladay. This time around, he played a lot of his own arrangements including some carols. I had heard most of these, of course, but I hadn't heard all of the stories around the composing, nor had I ever heard them in a setting quite like that. (Can I add a private Bigelow pipe organ/library to my list for Santa?) Johanna loaned me her digital recorder so I (hopefully) have it all documented. If I figure out how to work with the files, I will post a snippet here.

But back to the Thanksgiving strains. Said musical strains consisted of jamming with the lovely Tryst Press folks and a fellow in the neighborhood. I wish I'd had the camera on me to take photos of Martin playing his nose (pinching it and experimenting with vocal sounds) and throat (pinching his would-be jowls and shaking vigorously), and Eden with the slide whistle or croaking wooden frogs. My musical education is sadly lacking in jamming skills but I enjoyed the show, learned the blues chord progression, and strummed a banjo in my turn. I hope there's a next time.

Though the turkey blues weren't captured, Martin did snap a photo on his phone at the Messiah:




And, just for kicks, here is a shot post-Messiah, just before Martin went to shave off his beard:

Happy Christmas season to you. If you're looking for something in the merriment department, I highly recommend music making or consuming. It's good for the soul, you know?

(Oh, and call me. I might join you.)

Thanksgivingish Thoughts

1. I've always loved Abraham Lincoln; he is one of my personal heroes. I love that he used to give speeches to the creatures in the forest. I love that he was/is considered ungainly and homely. I love that he schooled himself in the law. I love that he was willing to face difficult questions. And I love that he declared a day of Thanksgiving. I was so struck, listening to part of this recently, with how religious the language is.

And I love his humility. (More on this in a minute.)


2. Daffodil and I have been reading our way through the Little House books. Though there are some aspects to these stories (Native American history) and characters (Ma) that can sometimes be a little hard to stomach and/or require me to make some asides while we're reading, I love these books. We recently finished The Long Winter and I find myself continually amazed at how much food (and variety!) we have to eat, a warm house, and light. Eden now mocks my frequent references to Laura Ingalls.

I find myself compulsively buying more wheat. (For real.)



3. A couple of nights ago I finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns for book club. This was a difficult book for me to read; I frequently leaked tears into my pillow trying to go to sleep and it disturbed my dreams. But I liked it, if "like" is the right word. It woke me up to other things I take for granted besides food and heat and light. Like civil rights and redress. Like being able to walk outside or get on a bus by myself. Unveiled.

Have I mentioned lately that I love my good, tender-hearted, loving and adoring husband?


4. As one who sort of looks on in amazement to shows of confidence, I've often wondered about the relationship (if any) between confidence/chutzpa/pride/humility. When and how is the line between self-confidence and arrogance (or ignorance) crossed?

How do you foster the one without the other?

I felt like I was given an unexpected answer to this ongoing, internal debate a few weeks ago. This will sound cliché, but I think it's true despite the platitude. The key is gratitude. A thankful heart acknowledges the giver of the gifts/talents/opportunities/orchestrated circumstances, etc., and is thereby safeguarded from the temptation to credit the self.

It might even be a reciprocal relationship; thankfulness may also bolster confidence. I'm still thinking on this one. In any case, I know when I am more aware of the ways I have been shepherded, it is easier for me to hope in this continual care.


With that I leave you with this one, final tidbit: I am now dreaming logic games. See, I still want to be like Abraham Lincoln.

Amphibious Fish

I love the rain.

Maybe it's because I grew up and live in the desert where the rain is a rare treat. Maybe I have an inherent love for water; I am a fish, after all.

I loved the rain in Hawaii too, though the rain there is usually not cold enough to stop you from swimming or other outside play. In fact, the torrential downpours could be sport in themselves. Witness below:


Oahu 2004

I miss those downpours actually, and the rushing in the culvert up behind our apartment complex. I had never experienced a rain so enthusiastic as to completely drench me in a 1/2 block before.


I dream of the Northeast. Maybe I would tire of the rain there? I have a hard time imagining it with my appetite for green and wet. Fish aren't meant to parch up in the desert.

I remember our first rainy season in Hawaii I felt like I was breathing water; nothing ever felt dry. But you know, just this weekend I found myself having a hard time breathing in a steam shower so maybe I am really an amphibious fish instead.

They don't exist you say?

Well I think at least one does now.


Kauai 2003

Halloween

I was hoping for better photos of this year's charade, but this is the best I've got.

Eden as magician/ringmaster:


Soren was such an active jester that he lost all of the jingle bells off his costume:


I stayed up really late a couple of nights while Martin was out of town knitting this scarf for a would-be Hermione:

(Aside: Halloween suits Daffodil's hair; her naturally messy, bushy hair is in fashion for 24 hours a year.)

Anna looks like a cross between Little Red Riding Hood and Dorothy:



My mom held a fun party for all of the grandchildren again this year. She freaked half of them out with her witch-acting. Just today I caught Anna playing witch and speaking in a low, raspy voice....




And speaking of costumes, today I finished making a bonnet and apron for Daffodil to be a pilgrim named "Mary" for the month of November at school:



I hope you all had a fun Halloween!