Halloween: a real treat for some, tricky for others

I should have been Scrooge for Halloween this year. As an adult, that's how I feel about the "holiday". I wasn't always like that. I used to love Halloween as a kid (I mean, really, what average American kid doesn't like free candy and dressing up as whatever you want?)

When I was younger, I loved going out dressed as whatever great idea I came up with that year. One year I was a hippie, another an old man, another a princess (multiple years), a pirate, etc. For the bulk of my good trick-or-treating years, we lived in Illinois in the perfect neighborhood. Just the right amount of houses to get a full stash and friendly-enough neighbors that it never seemed awkward knocking on doors.

And we knew our neighborhood, us kids. There was the house straight out our front door down almost to the main road on the right that gave out little ice creams cups (the guy worked for the Schwan company). You had to time your trick-or-treating just right there: not too early that your ice cream melted if you didn't want to eat it right away, but not too late or else they'd be out. There was the big (somewhat scary) brown house all the way down one side of the U-shaped neighborhood (the one that ended at the cul-de-sac with the pond where we used to go ice skating). That house handed out full-sized popcorn balls. Yes! They were delicious. A couple sporadic houses would give the GIANT candy bars out each year, but you had to be really on your game to get to those houses in time.

Everybody seemed pretty good about decorations too. Though the Skitinos next door always had the best scare-the-pants-off-of-you walkway up to their main door. I distinctly remember a skeleton that sat in a chair near the front that jumped at you as you walked up. Consequently, in my more formative years, my older siblings had to retrieve my candy from their house as I refused to go up (even when my siblings *tried* to convince me that it'd be okay...I didn't trust my siblings much then. ;) )

As the years passed and we moved to Washington, I started falling out of love with the oh-so-favorite holiday of kids. It started with moving to a neighborhood that was separated by acres of land, down a dark and windy gravel road. Not so much trick-or-treating as real-life scare-the-crap-out-of-you bears or cougars or wild crazy mountain men (imagination of a twelve-year-old) potentially lurked around any corner. One year I went with a couple friends whose Mom drove us all down to the town to trick-or-treat in the neighborhoods there. It just wasn't the same. It wasn't my neighborhood. None of them were my neighbors. And no one had little ice cream cups or giant popcorn balls. Just lots of dum-dums and "fun" size candy bars (seriously, FUN? Since when is little candy fun? Since never.) And the only thing I actually remember from that Halloween is that somehow I ended up sitting on chewing gum and it stuck to my costume and I couldn't get it off.

After that, I got too old to trick-or-treat and I wasn't one to get invited to parties (not that I would have gone anyway.) And forget college years: I had absolutely NO desire to dress up as a slutty bunny/maid/policewoman/whatever skanky outfits were deemed "cool" to go to any party that involved alcohol because that just seemed a colossal waste of time, energy, money, and brain cells. Instead, my roommate and I would put a little paper pumpkin cut-out on our door (the RAs handed them out each year) to signify that all the little trick-or-treaters in the local neighborhood could knock on our door to get some candy. (Not that we gave out very good candy...we were broke college students after all. In fact, I don't even remember what we gave out. Probably dum-dums.) The ladybugs and lions and doggies were cute (most were under the age of 7). And when we weren't handing out candy, we were doing homework.

Fast forward to adult life and I realized that Halloween is kind of lame. Now I get to go out and buy candy for strangers who knock on my door in the evening and interrupt my life. Sure, I could turn off the lights so nobody knocked (not that it would stop some), but there's that tiny kid-voice in me that says, "Oh c'mon! Be a sport!" But really, the only trick-or-treaters I want to see are my neighbor kids and my niece and nephew (my niece and nephew and their parents showed up as an entire pirate family which was pretty awesome!). But other than those few kids I know, I don't want to hand out candy to anybody. How did I turn into such a Grinch? (Another costume I should have donned...)

I am glad that I live in a neighborhood with nine houses, surrounded by other neighbors that are just far enough away that most people don't want to walk up a dark(ish) road. Plus, half our neighbors' lights were out this year. And, to be fair, those few die-hards who did venture up (or down) into our neighborhood, were polite and all costumed. But it took a lot to muster the energy to open the door and smile. *Sigh*

I hope that the spirit of dressing up and make-believe comes back to me because, candy-stashing aside, I used to love dressing up. My best childhood friend and I would play dress up for HOURS on end. Now, I just have the Eeyore, "Oh Bother" attitude (another costume idea!). Perhaps when I have a family of my own and get to take them trick-or-treating I will be re-inspired. Until then, I will just have to take pleasure in seeing those few kids I really want to open my door for and be glad that my neighborhood isn't quite as expansive as the one in Illinois.

Bah Humbug.

A Week in Review: NaNoWriMo and/or Nutcracker

I decided a while ago not to do NaNoWriMo this year, until last night when I started dreaming up characters and a story. As I fell asleep, I thought to myself, "I can definitely do this!"

When I woke up, I realized I am a bit crazy.

My earlier decision to abstain from this year's NaNo will remain in effect. Why? Mostly due to the fact that I get the opportunity to play the principal clarinet part in The Nutcracker this year, something that I have always wanted to do. And, since I do not want to be one of those people who show up unprepared (it baffles me how even after 20+ years of playing the exact same thing people are unprepared...it's called P-R-A-C-T-I-C-E, people!), I intend to spend all the time I would be writing, practicing.

This was a hard decision as the writer in me is throwing an outright temper tantrum, which, to be fair, is fair. I keep putting my writing aside in order to pursue these musical avenues, but sometimes decisions need to be made. If I find myself with extra time this November, I will certainly try to write down the story about the characters that made an appearance last night (and whom I am sure will start pestering me incessantly). But this November is dedicated to practicing both for The Nutcracker as well as the Winds of the Sound quintet recital (which you should all come to on November 23rd; it'll be great music!)

Meanwhile, to all those NaNoers out there: Best of luck to you all!

P.S. And, if I wasn't already convinced that I need to expend my energy into practicing this November, I got a sign this morning as well: Northwestern University has released archived audios of Robert Marcellus masterclasses! *Nerd Alert* Robert Marcellus is a big name in the clarinetting world of yore (and continues to influence the clarinet world, though he passed away in 1996). A fantastic player, he also taught brilliantly and intellectually to both students and fellow clarinet teachers. There's rumored to be 175 hours of pure listening pleasure in these audio files as he talks about technique and repertoire, critiques pieces and he provides constructive criticism to those performing the pieces in his masterclasses. I've already gleaned pearls of wisdom from the bits and snatches I aurally flipped through today. Suh-weet!

A Week in Review: A blow to the knees

I feel like I am 80 years old. I cringe thinking about getting up in the morning because my knees are so stiff and painful. The thought of going downstairs makes me want to crawl back in bed. Each morning I think I'll feel better, and each morning it still hurts. A lot. It's been a month and a half now.

It happened after we went backpacking, but I can't figure out how to fix myself because I'm not altogether sure what's going on. It's not like we hadn't gone backpacking before. I did have new hiking boots, but it wasn't my first time using them. My only thought is this:

I had been wearing my Keens and my super comfortable yoga-mat flip flops almost nonstop this entire summer. Then, when I went backpacking, I actually wore my orthotics (*pats self on back*) and when we hiked down, I also put my knee brace on (*another pat on the back*). I thought I was doing the right thing: good posture and good support. But here's what I actually think happened: My feet/knees/hips rebelled because they were over-corrected after an entire summer of being lazy. (That and my orthotics are about a thousand years old, a.k.a. I got them in high school...and as much as I hate to admit it, probably are doing me more harm than good.)

Ever since that hike down, I haven't been able to bend my knees. I can't kneel. It takes me a long time to just get up and walk to the bathroom or the kitchen.

I used to be able to do this:

Now it hurts to put on socks.

Why, you  may ask, did I not go to a doctor a month ago? Well, I don't believe in doctors much. Or, perhaps I should say I've just been extremely disappointed in them. When I sprained my ankle a few years ago, I put off going in...knowing that they'd just tell me that I needed to rest it and take drugs, etc. It finally got so bad that I went to the urgent care (bad idea). They told me to rest it and take ibuprofen. (Shocker...) That bill ended up being $1000 (the doctor wasn't authorized to read the x-rays so they had to call in a radiologist that I had to pay, the crutches and ankle brace went through different companies which each billed us separately, so on and so forth. Good thing the husband sorted most of that out.) Speaking of  him, let's talk about the time he went into physical therapy for two months for an IT band issue...which the physical therapists actually made worse. And yet we still had to pay a copay twice a week for two months. Or how about the time I tweaked my wrist and it hurt every time I played my instrument? Yep, you guessed it. Multiple doctors appointments, MRIs, x-rays, poking, prodding, and copays, just to be told they "weren't really sure..." which resulted in the option of steroid shots or nothing. I took nothing. What a colossal waste of time, energy, and money.

Now, this isn't a knock against doctors. They definitely have merit and worth in society. Nor is it a tirade against insurance.

But how do you decide when to go into a doctor and why? I feel like if you can rest and recuperate without going into a doctor, then do it. You'll save yourself time and money, and you'll save others time and money.

So what about prolonged injuries like what I now am battling? How do you decide when and where and who to see? Do you go see the doctors just to play a guessing game and be prescribed drugs that you aren't willing to take? Do you try to exercise it out? (Movement, in this case, does seem to be the only thing that sort of helps alleviate pain.) I have rested, iced, heated, compressed, and elevated. And yet nothing. I suppose each day is mildly better, but the slope of improvement is so gradual that I am worried that nothing has changed.

I don't want to go to the doctor just to have them tell me I need to RICE some more. Nor do I want to go and be put through a battery of tests that end up being inconclusive. I would consider physical therapy, but ever since my husband's experience, I am afraid that it'll just be a waste of money AND make me worse.

I guess it's time to go back to RICE and start strength-exercising the muscles in the lower half of my body.

Meanwhile, I have made an appointment with a podiatrist to get new orthotics.

A Week in Review: The long and the short of it (tee hee)

I am not intentionally pushing the posting dates back each week; somehow life just gets busy.

I almost didn't post this week; first because I forgot on Sunday (big day with quintet rehearsal and lessons and youth symphony and lessons and finally getting home to eat dinner). Then, as Monday slipped by, I thought, "Should I bother this week? It's already Tuesday..."

But NO! I said I would do this, so barring any actual forgettage (English major is allowed to make up words), I will persevere.

A short snippet for the week (pun intended):

My hair cut rocks. (Pun intended again.)

The bass players in the symphony in which I play are located across the entire room from me, stage left. Due to this location, rarely, if ever, do we interact. A new bass player joined us last season, an older, slender black man from Chicago, who wears a newsboy cap with some grays underneath. I don't believe we've even nodded a "Hello" to each other (due, again, merely to location).

The first rehearsal after my hair cut, I walked into rehearsal and sat down. Incredibly early, I was one of only a few people in the room. The bass player walked in and as he was about to put bow to strings, said (from across the room), "You got your hair cut!"

Catching me completely off guard, I at least responded with a, "Yes, I did!"

He made my day. The only other person in my section doesn't notice I chopped off multiple inches of hair, but a pleasant gentleman from across the room does—and comments on it! :)

Just goes to show you that you never know who's watching. And not in the creepy, stalker way, but in the "being aware of your surroundings" kind of way.

Remember, people like to be noticed and acknowledged. Even something that may seem trivial to you could make a difference in somebody's day.

A Week in Review: Gov. shutdowns, puppy-dog tooth extractions, eBay, and hair cuts

When people ask me, "How was your week? What did you do?" I generally stare at them for a moment, trying to remember what I actually did in the past week. If somebody asks me this week, I'll ask them to pull up a chair because it was a doozy of week!

* * *
Earlier in the week, the government shut down. For some, this just comes as a minor inconvenience; others don't even give it more than a passing, "That's unfortunate" or "No surprise" thought. But for many, especially in the area where we reside, it's a huge deal. Many people have been furloughed (no work, no pay). My husband gets to still go to work, but he doesn't get paid (until everything gets settled...and then theoretically we will be paid retroactively). That was how this entire week started for us. I count us one of the lucky ones, at the moment, as we still have a job (sort of) and we will get paid (eventually...we hope). But for all those who live pay-check to pay-check, my heart goes out to them.

My husband said that the day notices went out, he saw a man walking down the stairs, crumpling up a piece of paper with a look on his face that said it all: "How am I going to afford to live?"

The feeling is terrible. For those of you who have steady, paying jobs right now. Count your blessings and don't belly-ache about stupid things. Have some consideration for those millions affected who suddenly went from stability to uncertainty in a matter of hours. Cross your fingers that our government can put aside their petty differences and start working together.

I won't say anymore on the matter as it's something that is largely debated and could end up being an entire novel. Suffice it to say: I'm grateful that we have savings, that I work (even though I only pull in enough to pay half a mortgage), and am equally glad that we have great family and friends if we end up needing help.

* * *
As the week progressed, we found out that our puppy-dog had a cracked molar. :(

Good thing my husband has been good about brushing her teeth, as he noticed it. She went in for a vet appointment on Friday which confirmed the situation. The vet gave us two options: root canal (no bueno) or tooth extraction. On Saturday morning, my husband took her into the vet again for a tooth extraction surgery. Later that day, she came back to us, sounding like a tea kettle and completely out of it. Poor puppy :( Already in her life she's had two knee surgeries, so we have gone through much more major "after anesthesia" deals, but it still doesn't get any easier.

Ellie is no longer allowed to have any nylabones (sad day), but on the plus side she gets a steady diet of chicken and rice all week (soft food)! Lucky doggy! She is already sounding and looking a lot better. Though drooling a lot...hopefully that'll stop sooner rather than later ;)

Now of course Murphy's Law says that this'll happen as soon as the Gov. shutdown happens and we aren't getting paid, but that's why we have pet insurance (GET IT!!) and hopefully this will be covered! (Ironically, we also had to buy new tires for my car the day after the Gov. shutdown, but again, sometimes you just have to roll with the punches...and now all those who ride in my car are much safer!).

* * *
This is just touching the surface of the many strange and unusual things that occurred this week. There were a lot more frustrating moments, some learning moments, some very exciting moments, and a lot of good that really did happen this week along with the unfortunate circumstances.

Like, for instance: my first eBay experience!

Now and then I poke around eBay, usually hunting for nerdy clarinet paraphernalia. (There was that one time I bid on a clarinet using my husband's account.) But I never actually buy anything, in fact I didn't (up until this week) have an account at all.

This week, my life changed. I—became an eBayer.

What, you may ask, compelled me to actually make an account when not even a prior clarinet bidding convinced me to get my own?

Two words (try not to laugh): Polly Pocket.

Yes, that is right my friends, if you didn't think I was a nerd before, now you really know I am one!

Back story:

I used to play with Polly Pockets as a young child. Not the ones you see nowadays, but the legit inch-high dolls that came in the little shells. They were awesome. You could take them with you and entertain yourself for hours.

As I grew up, my two precious Polly Pocket sets were packed away along with my other dolls, stuffed animals, Beanie Babies, and all the other countless toys. In the attic they sat, for years. Then I moved into my own house and found myself poking through all my boxes as I moved all my stuff out of my parents' house. Strangely, my Polly Pockets were no where to be found! How could this be?!

I brushed it off for a for more years, mentioning it to my mom who also found it strange. For some reason, just this past week, I finally decided I'd had enough. It was time to accept that for some reason, two of my favorite toys were officially AWOL.

I began an intense online hunt, finding out more than I ever thought I'd know about the Polly Pocket world (and that there are some crazy enthusiasts out there). But, given the power of the internet, I found my two sets floating around on eBay.

Naturally, I stalked every option and finally went in for the kill. Never having actually eBayed on my own (I'm making up all sorts of words in this blog today), I watched the countdown eagerly for the first set, face plastered to the screen as the one hour mark turned into minutes...45 min...30...15...10...I am still the highest bidder!...8...5...3...30 secs and I WIN!!! Yes, I did a happy dance. I love winning. (Who doesn't?)

Polly Pocket Beach House with two original dolls AND a bonus doll. Also in the original color that I had (other ones have dark purple scheme in the seating and beds, but this lighter color is the one I originally owned).

Thrilled with my first awesome encounter, I eagerly pushed forward into my next bid for my other set, this time being even more daring and finding not just the one original that I was missing...but the entire set! WOWSERS!

Original  Polly Pocket
Jeweled Sea that I used to own.
Comes with a little otter
as well as the mermaid doll!

The entire jewel Polly Pocket set! Wahoo!

This one I couldn't watch actively, so I just had to cross my fingers that nobody outbid me. And nobody did. Because nobody messes with me and my Polly Pockets. WINNER AGAIN! Even more exciting though because I get not one, but FOUR! (They should arrive in the mail today or tomorrow.)

Perhaps one day my two sets will show up, but if they don't, now I have them again. I feel pretty darn good about my eBay experience! (Also, I think I may have lost the boy polly from the beach set in our family Oldsmobile when I was playing with them in the car...pretty sure he slipped down where the seatbelt comes out...so now if I do find them, I'll have all the pieces again!)

Laugh all you will, but everyone has something that they would love to see again. In fact, I told my in-laws we should have a vintage toy Christmas this year. :) Wouldn't you love to open just one gift and have it be something special from your past? I think it'd be pretty neat.

* * *
Meanwhile, the most exciting thing that was supposed to happen last week was getting my hair cut:

Before

After

Neither are great pictures, but you get the point. I love my new hair cut. It's a bit more "Short 'n' Sassy" ;)

* * *
As I said, this only barely scratches what happened this week. I didn't even go into the Tea Festival, staking out the grand opening of REI in our area for free water bottles and gifts cards, my sister adopting her first cat, one of my best friends adopting her first dog, teaching a lesson that tested my patience (I wanted to pull my hair out by the end), or really any of the other myriad of subjects I could talk about.

But at least this time, when somebody asks me how my week went, I'll have something to say!

A Week in Review: Etiquette and Common Courtesy

In the age of technology, there are some—nay, many—common courtesies and etiquette that have gone far out the window.

Let's start with the hard one: R.S.V.P. 

Yes, it's French. If this were a Jeopardy question, how many people in each generation (on average) do you think would be able to actually SAY what that acronym means—without Googling it? (It's okay if you can't spell it. After all, those French like to add a lot of vowels unnecessarily.) I am going to speculate (with all my powers of intuition), that for each new generation, the likelihood of this gets smaller and smaller. 

It stands for répondez, s'il vous plaît, which means RESPOND PLEASE. (I won't go into the semantics of how accurate my French translation is as it could actually mean "respond, if you please" which is NOT where I'm going with this entry so I'm sticking with what's in all caps.) 

I have been taught that you respond. Period. (If I could capitalize the actual period instead of writing out the word, I would. Consider it capital.)

Understandably, we get busy with life. The invitation, whether paper or cyber, gets lost in the day-to-day. But anybody who has thrown any kind of extravaganza in the last few years from birthday parties to weddings (especially weddings), understands that when one doesn't RSVP, things get very tricky. The host is usually trying to pinpoint how much food and drink to make or purchase, how many party favors to acquire, seating arrangements, party activities, so on and so forth. If you don't RSVP, you leave the host with the unfortunate quandary of: "Do I call or do I just assume?" Neither is a great option. Personally, in the last few years, I've done my fair share of calling and Facebooking and e-mailing just to get people to respond.

To that I say: "Ugh!" Get with the program, people! 

If somebody puts RSVP on an invitation, do yourself and the host a favor and actually take the time to respond. It's the polite thing to do. I am sure Ms. Manners would back me up on this one.

And, while we're still on the topic. If you RSVP, "Yes" and then FAIL TO SHOW, it would be nice to let the host(s) know why. It's one thing if something unavoidable comes up or if you just had a plain ol' brain-fart—but apologize and let the host know why, if you can. A simple, "Hey, so sorry, this came up and unfortunately we won't be able to (or couldn't) make it," would suffice in most situations. It's that common courtesy thing a lot of people seem to lack these days.

Good thing there are still some out there picking up the slack for others! Here is an example of above and beyond when it comes to being unable to attend after having already RSVPed:

One couple we invited to our wedding shared our wedding date with their wedding anniversary, but still RSVPed "YES!", enthusiastically. They were thrilled to share such a special day with us. When we didn't see them, I found it surprising. It turned out that the husband had a heart attack while on a boat that same day. Luckily he ended up being okay, though they obviously were unable to attend our wedding. How did I find this out? We received a card in the mail after our wedding: the wife wrote telling us how sorry she was that they had to miss our wedding and the why. On top of that, they gave us a check! Now that is some unbelievable etiquette!

Needless to say, we wrote a very nice thank you and get-well card to them!

This segues into my next etiquette which is: writing Thank Yous.

My mom instilled in all of us early on that you write thank you notes. I don't know how well my siblings kept up, but I made sure to write notes for each birthday and Christmas to grandparents, to aunts and uncles, to whomever was nice enough to send gifts. I would take the time to write a personal thank you and let them know how I liked their gift and, if it was money, how I spent it (or intended to spend it). The same was true for graduations and bridal showers and bachelorette parties and weddings. To this day, I still write thank you notes. In fact, Grandma should be receiving one in the mail this week!

Why are thank you notes such a big deal? (Or perhaps the better sentiment, why should thank you notes be such a big deal?)

People take time to pick out gifts, especially when it comes to the "important occasions" like birthdays and graduations and weddings. Most people like to give something that they know the receiver will appreciate—and that takes thought as well as the literal time to purchase it and wrap it and send it (if applicable). Shouldn't the person(s) who take that time deserve to have the same courtesy returned in the form of a thank you? Besides that, most people like to know that their gift was received and wasn't lost or stolen or ignored. And if it's a monetary gift, remember too that it comes from their finances. Monetary gifts deserve just as much of a thank you as physical gifts. 

I thought that this was a common courtesy. Turns out this kind of etiquette has fallen so far down on the list that people don't bother thinking a "Thank you". Gifts are taken for granted. Gifts are assumed and expected and yet get no response.

There have been entire weddings where the bride and groom don't bother writing thank you notes AT ALL. Forget birthdays or graduations or new babies—those are hardly important gifts for which to thank someone. *Rolls eyes* Heck, in those situations I would have settled for a text message: Hey, got your present. Thanks! It is the digital age, after all—takes mere seconds to communicate! But even that—that simple pick-up-your-phone and take literally 30 seconds to type and send—people can't be bothered.

There should be no excuse. Pick up a pen and find that RSVP and respond. Put it in the mail. Find a nice card and write thank you notes to the people who take time out of their day to give you a present. Go to the new neighbors and welcome them to the neighborhood. Bonus points if you bring them baked goods and/or flowers! (I confess, I still need to greet one of our newest neighbors.) Common courtesy and etiquette extend beyond the pages; they are an essential vertebrae in the backbone of our society.

I sincerely hope that with each new generation, the art of RSVP and thank you notes, of sending birthday cards and writing an "I'm thinking of you note" will start to resurface. Facebook and e-mails and Skype and all those programs should help—not make obsolete what generations before have crafted into a meaningful way to communicate. And remember, too, that everybody enjoys opening the mailbox and finding a personal letter or card. 

People absolutely get a free pass every once in a while. To err is human, so we might forget to RSVP to that one event (especially some of those socialites who get invited to everything!) or write a thank you note seven months late (sorry about that Grandma!). Don't make it a habit though. Don't consider it a "normal" part of your life. Instead, put that RSVP card somewhere you'll be able to find and put a deadline on your calendar ahead of the RSVP date to make sure you respond in time. Keep some nice-looking cards around and next time you receive a gift in the mail, pick one up and jot a quick thank you to the person who sent it to you. And if you really aren't one to write personal snail-mail thank yous, then use your phone or your tablet or iPad or computer and take advantage of all this technology at our fingertips! (Though I still am wholly in the snail-mail personal box!)

Acknowledge those who've taken time out of their lives for you. It's important.

A Week in Review: Gifts come in all sizes and shapes

Every day we are given countless gifts that, oftentimes, we don't even realize are gifts. To that extent, some say that each and every day itself is a gift. I say keep your senses alert and appreciate all the gifts in your life, no matter the size or shape, tangible or intangible.

For each day that passed this week, I could name something that I felt was truly a gift to me. On the outside, some of these moments may seem like nothing more than a phone call or a book, but in truth, each of them held something more: each was a gift.

Gift of Trust:

At the beginning of the week, I received a call from a grandfather whose young eleven-year-old granddaughter had joined the youth symphony. At the first rehearsal, there was a parent meeting in which my primary role was to show up in concert black dress attire so that all parents and students know what is acceptable for concerts. 

Concert Black Attire
(Picture courtesy of the gift of a clarinet photo shoot from my sister-in-law)

This grandfather had been so impressed with my professional-looking outfit that he telephoned me the next day to discuss how his granddaughter could find just-the-right outfit to look professional, yet still age appropriate.

On the phone to me, he expressed that he just wanted to make his granddaughter feel comfortable as she was very excited to be a part of the symphony but also apprehensive as she is one of the younger players.

After the first rehearsal, the grandfather had taken his granddaughter out to dinner: "Wherever she wanted," he'd told me. At the restaurant (Red Robin), they had talked about the symphony and the conversation had turned to the topic of her dress attire for the concerts. When the elder queried the younger about what she might want to wear for the concerts, she said she'd liked what I had worn. He agreed that the outfit looked "quite sharp." 

I talked to this gentleman for at least a half an hour discussing all sorts of options as to what I thought would be appropriate for a young female student and where one might purchase outfits.

"I know you are a busy woman," he said to me, "and I greatly appreciate you taking the time to talk to me about this."

Honestly, I'd never discussed clothing so in depth. But, by the time I hung up I'd realized that he'd made my day. Why? Because he'd given me a gift of trust. It might sound silly to some, but that simple phone call, a grandfather wishing to make his granddaughter feel important and comfortable, made me feel important as well. He saw me not only as an adult* but as a leader and somebody he could trust to give him an honest and authoritative answer. He trusted my style (what!) and my knowledge as a musician and instructor enough to call me and ask something that to some might seem entirely ridiculous. He trusted that I wouldn't take it as something inane, but instead that I would respect it.

It's important to remember: sometimes the smallest things make the biggest changes.

In an ironic turn of "what a small world" events, it turns out this gentleman's son graduated from the same high school I did (which is three hours away in a completely different area) six years prior to my graduation.

*("Oh, so you're a real adult?" has actually been said to me before. I was 22. Sometime I'll share that story on here.)

Gift of Thanks:

My students are always gifts to me. Each one I have reminds me how much I enjoy teaching clarinet lessons. I work with some of these students for many years. As such, I get the privilege to watch these boys and girls grow into young men and women. In due time, each must move on in his or her respective futures.

This week, another student had his final lesson and is embarking on a new adventure as he heads off to college. At the end of his lesson, I received a gift of thanks from him:

 (The vase was a gift from my sister for my college graduation.)

On a similar note, I recently had a current student (and parent) give me a gift of fresh-caught salmon. YUM!

Gift of Friendship

Every Friday, there are a few of us who have a girls' night. I never thought that I would be one to actually have something like that. There are those shows on TV where girls are close-knit and really connect, sharing all manners of life subjects. I am not one of those. Nor have I ever been. Except, recently, I realize that I do actually have a pretty darn good group of girlfriends who I have come to really connect with and really trust (gift of trust!) and enjoy sharing time and experiences.

Unlike TV, however, our girls' night are usually fairly low-key. We cook dinner together and chat and sometimes play a game. More than likely these days, we end up doing house projects together!

This Friday, we painted some of the rooms in K's new house. And while we were dressed in our finery of cut-off jeans and old ragged t-shirts, I told those ladies that I was going on record and let them all know how much I appreciate their friendship. Because they (and several others who would be part of girls' night if they lived closer) are true friends. I know I could call on them any time for anything, no matter what.

So to E and L and K: Thanks for girls' night! It's fun anytime, even if it's painting rooms (or refinishing a deck)!

And for all my good friends out there: THANK YOU for your amazing gifts of friendship.

Gift of Love:

Throughout the week, my husband cooked every single night. That's right ladies and gentlemen, I've got a keeper! (As if there was any doubt...)

Just about the time I'd think, "I should probably pull out something for dinner...", my handsome hubby would text me and say: "I've got a dinner plan."

Oh joy! Rapture!

How doth he love me? Let me count the ways: shredded bbq beef sandwiches, shredded beef omelettes and banana macadamia nut pancakes with coconut syrup, soup with meatballs and ravioli, shredded beef tacos with avocado and garden-fresh tomatoes, and BLT croissants.

Not to mention he changed the oil in both vehicles, cleaned the garage, and put the backpacking gear away. Meanwhile he still found time to work on his master's after work and go over to my brother's to help put up a shed.

Each and every day I am honored to have this man by my side. He is constantly and consistently a gift of love to me and to others.

Gift of Thoughtfulness:

My mother is one of the most thoughtful people I know. Whenever she sees me, or "sees" me through other people visiting, she gifts me with little notes or books or whatever reminded her of me. (Along with the mail I seem to still receive there...) I got home on Saturday and found that my dad had dropped off a box of goodies from my mom. In that box, and the true inspiration for this week's blog, a book: The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations.

This book is chock full of quotations from the bible to Shakespeare to presidents to common sayings. It has an alphabetical index of keywords. Can't remember a full quotation or phrase, but know that it has "March" in it? Just look up that word and you find 17 quotations with "march" in it. The index gives a brief three or four word blurb so that you can decide which quotation most fits it before you look up the full quote.

GEEK OUT!

I called my mom to thank her and of course she'd responded with, "I just saw it and thought of you." :) She then told me that it caught her eye because there are often quotations in the beginning of books and she thought that I might find it helpful if I wished to do that sometime. I told her, "I actually do have a quote at the beginning of one of my novels already!"

She was pretty tickled that I'd already begun doing that and I told her that I appreciated her random, "I thought of you" gift even more.

Thanks mom! You're the best.

So to end, a quote from Percy Bysshe Shelley:

"Familiar acts are beautiful through love." (Prometheus Unbound, Act IV)

A Week in Review: It's a bug's life (Part II)

I opened the door, leash in hand. Ellie pushed past me, eager to get into the sunshine, knowing that the leash meant exercise of some kind. As she brushed past me, I noticed a rather odd sight on the door frame:

Curious, I peered at this gummy-looking thing. I had several thoughts flash through my mind, instantaneously competing with each other:

"What is that?"
"Is it real?"
"Is somebody spying on me?!" (I'd been watching a bit too much Revenge recently...)

The thing started swaying. There was no wind. Not even a tiny gust of air. And yet it slowly rocked back and forth with its beady little...fake eyes.

After the initial shock of "What the...?", I used my powers of observation (and morbid fascination) and noted that those "eyes" were clearly not real. It looked as though they were painted on (again, a fleeting thought of feeling spied on...).

At this point, I reached over to turn the handle of the door to go inside and retrieve my phone. But, ALAS! I'd already locked myself out. I hustled to get myself back into the house, not wanting to miss this strange alien creature. By the time I returned moments later...it hadn't moved. Except for its steady sway—back and forth, back and forth. I captured the above picture and then proceeded to stare at it intently.

Those eyes...

What does one do at at time like this! Why...Google of course!

With my handy-dandy phone, I popped onto Google and typed in the following:

alien caterpillar with fake eyes

Behold the power of Google! Instantly it popped up this video.

Not to be outdone, I took a video of my own:

As the caterpillar began to investigate the door frame, I investigated the caterpillar.

I went on an online hunt, seeing what else Google pulled up, website-wise, for my "alien caterpillar with fake eyes" search.

And, voila!

This alien-looking caterpillar will turn into the beautiful Tiger Swallowtail butterfly:

Though this is actually the Eastern Tiger Swallowtail and not the Western.
(Photo Website Link; Western Tiger Swallowtail Info)

I'd say, that's a pretty neat find!

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And, on a poetic side note, what a great metamorphosis example for me, don't you think? :) (See A Week in Review: It's a bug's life (Part I)

A Week in Review: It's a bug's life (Part I)

Question: What does a ukulele, boudoir-themed shower crafting, and an alien-bug have in common?

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For a while now, I've been getting bugged about posting. (You know who you are, Graham.) ;)

In all honesty, I appreciate the inquiries because it forces me to think and rethink how I will manage to carve out writing time in my life. It's tricky, and it's getting trickier. The music side of my life has taken over. Just in private lessons alone, I have gone from 2 to 10 students in the course of the past six months, which is very exciting, but time-consuming. This doesn't even include all my own practice hours and symphony rehearsals and youth symphony rehearsals and master classes. But we won't go into that.

As if I didn't have enough music in my life, at the beginning of the summer I finally picked up the ukulele I bought on our honeymoon trip to Maui five years ago, dusted it off and figured out how to tune it. Then, I proceeded to teach myself how to play it, passably well, in an hour (very proud of myself for that). I took it camping that same weekend and pestered my family with it. And when I returned, I thought to myself, I should document this.

About that same time, I was working very diligently on my good friend's boudoir shower invitations and, feeling very proud of my crafts, thought that I should also share that endeavor.

That's when I starting thinking about doing a "week in review" blog wherein every week I write about something that occurred in my life that I find interesting, challenging, fun, boring, witty, snide, laughable, culpable...really...anything goes (within reason).

In my mind, as I lay in my bed at night trying to sleep, I'd draft these excellent blogs with witty comments and visual stimulants of my superb ukulele playing and crafty crafts. And by morning, I'd forgotten my wit and realized (especially this summer) that I had no time for dilly-dallying around on my blog.

Or did I?

Why did I have this new-found exploration into previously dormant (redundant, I know), facets of my creative life (i.e. ukulele playing, extensive craft-time)? And why, more importantly, was I feeling a need to share these things? The ever-sought-after social need for approval? I'm sure there's some part of me that nods in agreement to that. But, I honestly think it's more my need to write. And since I'm having a hard time editing novels at the moment, my mind is finding other avenues for me to hone my writerly instincts: 

a) I have a perpetual need to be creative. If I'm not playing my instrument or writing, I'm trying to find other avenues to express creativity. Hence the other activities.

b) When engaging in these other creative activities, I still feel that urge to write. The little blog birdie in my ear that whispers, "Write about this" is just encouraging me to find a different way to keep writing. Because the number one thing us writers need to remember (and always remind ourselves) is to just keep writing.

I love to write. And when I am not working on my novels, I get this built-up anxious feeling. My characters start to have lives of their own in my head. They answer my novel questions, but never at good times for me to sit down and capture them. 

While my novels are my first priority in my writing life, I need to be writing even when I'm not noveling (or not making the time to novel). So after a long, exhausting summer (full of very fun and exciting events), I am collecting myself once again. I am preparing for noveling by accepting that earlier this summer I was onto something with my other creative expressions and desire to write about them. I will be, like I dreamed up, making a valiant effort to do a blog entry each week: A Week in Review.

As I embark on this journey, I am hoping it will lead me down my noveling-path more easily. One can hope!

Here we go!

See: A Week in Review: It's a bug's life (Part II)

It's Marathon Time!

It seems to me that everyone these days is running half-marathons or marathons (not to mention mud-runs, rock-n-roll runs, color-runs, you-name-it runs). I can't quite decide if it's the era or the age bracket I've entered. Or both.

As a former varsity cross-country runner, one would think I'd jump on that marathon-running bandwagon. But, really, I'm not that interested in the marathon-stints. I certainly don't mind doing the Hood-to-Coast relay races and I'd probably enjoy the aforementioned runs in the parenthesis up there yonder, but the thought of marathons just makes me tired.

I will, however, be participating in a marathon this Saturday.

A marathon of words! The first annual NaNoWriMo Writing Marathon! And I can squeeze it in between my concert on Friday night and my concert on Saturday night. Woot!

Since I've been struggling to work on my novel whilst all this musicky (technical term) is going on (did I mention that my students are going to state for soprano clarinet, bass clarinet, and in a wind quintet?!), this is just one more incentive for me to keep plugging away as I attempt to balance my life. Just like I used to balance on a balance beam when I did gymnastics.

Wish me luck!

Life, Procrastination, Realization, and why a 50,000 goal isn't just for novels

I have been silent for a while on this here my blog. That's a bad sign. Why? Because it means I haven't been writing. Granted, life has gotten a bit in the way. But really that's just a way to say I'm a procrastinator.

Well shoot. I already knew that about myself. After all, I did (and do) my best work at the 11th hour (or should I say the hours between 1 and 3 am? ;) ), while burning both ends of the candle (how many metaphors can I fit into this?).

That's why NaNoWriMo is so good for me. After all: it gives me a clear and steady deadline.

This past year, I chose not to do NaNoWriMo. Not because I don't have a thousand story ideas calling out to me from the ethers of my mind (au contraire, mon ami!), but I felt I owed it to my two previous novels to really hunker down and get to some serious revising.

That lasted all of three days until...I ordered new A clarinets to test out...(*note: that is not a typo, I ordered clarinets in the key of A, as in not Bb clarinets.)

On the plus side, I have a fantastic and beautiful new instrument to play. The downside, of course, my writing greatly suffered.

So November passed in a blur of instruments,  December in a flurry of holidays with no snow, January hit and suddenly I turned a year older (seriously, how is it that 27 actually feels older?). My brother temporarily moved in with us (which totally threw off my groove) and my grandfather passed away. And forget February, that's an entirely separate beast all of its own: SOLO/ENSEMBLE. And while it was worth every minute I spent working with my students (it totally paid off! State here we come!), I found myself at the end wondering why yet another month disappeared.

I sit here now, though, fully aware that it's March. And I'm okay with that. Here's why:

A few weeks ago I realized that while I may list a thousand reasons for why I'm not working on my writing and while I may be an inherent procrastinator, here is the real truth as to why I hadn't started seriously revising:

I had absolutely no idea where to start.

I had a full-blown draft of a novel (two, actually), and every time I sat down to edit or revise or do anything besides stare at words...I just felt completely overwhelmed. In all the years of writing I took in college, in all the years I've counted myself a writer (since I was about 3...) I have never truly been taught by myself or anybody how to revise anything longer than a short story.

Thankfully, I remembered I bought Scrivener. One day I sat down and inputted my stories. I felt pretty darn pleased with myself. Days passed. That dreadful overwhelming feeling started to creep back into my system.

Then I realized something else:

I don't have to work on the entire novel at once! 

I know, I know, this seems like such a simple concept. But it's akin to realizing that I didn't have to start at the beginning either. More importantly, Scrivener is set up in such a way that I can just isolate scenes and work on sections or subsections — whatever inspires me that day.

Renewed, I finally started tampering with words. Even deleting some. Heck, today I removed an entire sentence! (It was a bit superfluous after all.) I felt so empowered, so good about how much I accomplished that I even felt I'd written something good enough to allow my husband to read one scene. And if you know anything about me and my writing, you know how incredibly private I keep it.

So there you have it folks. I'm recommitting to my writing: one scene at a time.

Meanwhile, I've also taken the idea of 50,000 words and translated it into my practice-time on my clarinet. As of last week, I start a 50,000 hour practice log countdown. It will probably take my entire lifetime to accomplish (hey, it's more realistic than using my serial number on my instrument: 633994!). But I need goals and deadlines. I thrive on those. And after only a week, I am down to 49,990.50

Moral of the story?

Well, I don't know. I haven't finished revising it yet. ;)