This is a "I better post so I don't go a month without posting" post. Three days to spare!
This will be my first Christmas ever without a mom. :-( It is going to be very strange to not have her here to give a present to. I am hoping her marker will be placed by Christmas. It was ordered back in August. I would like to take all the kids to see it before our college students have to go back to school.
Speaking of college students, they will both be home next weekend. Yay!
Someone at USA Radio Network ate too much fruitcake and got the idea to invite me on for an interview. I am scheduled to discuss this article with host Rusty Humphries at 1:45 p.m. CST tomorrow. Probably someone will wise up and cancel me before that time.
Christmas cards have been signed, sealed and mostly delivered. Because we were unable to get a family photo done in time, I used this one from what I thought was last Christmas.
Then I realized that the above was actually two Christmases ago. This is last Christmas.
Oh, well, maybe I'll just continue the pattern of sending out two-year-old pics and let everyone think we look younger than we really do.
I am back to trying to finish reading the Harry Potter series. I read the first book when my college kids first started reading it, but I wasn't particularly impressed and didn't continue. A few years later I read the second and third books. Now after another multi-year break I am resuming reading the series, mostly for the benefit of my youngest, who needs someone to talk to about it. I don't know why the books have not hooked me as they have so many. Maybe there are just too many characters for my aging brain to keep track of.
This was recorded today. It is probably the last time Evan will sing a high B-flat in church. Voice change is imminent. Sadness.
"E'en So, Lord Jesus, Quickly Come" - Paul Manz from Cheryl on Vimeo.
But didn't our choir do a good job?
Blessed Gaudete Sunday!
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver . . ."
(William Shakespeare's Othello, I.iii.88-90)
Showing posts with label Harry Potter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harry Potter. Show all posts
Sunday, December 11, 2016
December Update
Labels:
Advent,
Choir,
Christmas,
Evan,
Federalist,
Harry Potter,
Immanuel,
Mom
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Happiness is . . .
. . . listening to the Wicked soundtrack over and over again with your 12-almost-13-year-old daughter--the one that same daughter got you for your birthday-- and remembering . . .
. . . dusting the house together while you listen.
. . . going back and replaying your favorite tracks again.
. . . telling your daughter how the Act I finale of Wicked ("Defying Gravity"), an anthem of independence sung by Elphabah the misfit, reminds you of Fanny Brice's similar declaration ("Don't Rain On My Parade") at the end of Act I in Funny Girl.
. . . listening together to Barbra Streisand sing "Don't Rain On My Parade" on my original Broadway cast album recording.
. . . discovering a musical allusion to "Don't Rain On My Parade" in Wicked's "One Short Day to the Emerald City" (it was my daughter who figured out that the allusion occurs when Glinda mentions seeing a show--"Wizomania"--upon their arrival in the city).
. . . deciding that next week we will watch some movies together: one that my daughter wants me to see (the first Harry Potter) and one that I want her to see (Funny Girl).
. . . squishing up next to one another so that we can both read the lyrics in the CD liner notes, and discovering that when Elphaba and Glinda sing simultaneously at the end of "For Good" the normally mezzo Elphaba sings the high part while soprano Glinda sings the low part (reflecting the lyrics "because I knew you, I have been changed for good").
. . . watching a YouTube video of scenes from Harry Potter movies effectively and movingly set to the Wicked soundtrack!
Parents, myself included, often look at the children growing up before their eyes and mourn the disappearance of the various stages of that growth--infancy, toddlerhood, the preschool years--but at times like this I rejoice in the stunning people my children are becoming as they journey towards adulthood and the many yet to be revealed joys and blessings those years are going to bring. My daughter will always be my daughter and I will always be her mother, but how amazing it is to experience her more and more each day as a friend.
P.S. to Wicked fans: here are a couple of bits of trivia for you. Did you know that "Elphaba" (the name of the wicked witch in the story) was created by author Gregory Maguire by morphing the initials F. L. B. (for Frank L. Baum) into a name? And did you also know that Idina Menzell, the originator of the role of Elphaba on Broadway, played Patrick Dempsey's girlfriend in Enchanted? (She said she didn't mind that it was a minor role because she was thrilled to be hired for only her acting and not her singing talent.)
. . . dusting the house together while you listen.
. . . going back and replaying your favorite tracks again.
. . . telling your daughter how the Act I finale of Wicked ("Defying Gravity"), an anthem of independence sung by Elphabah the misfit, reminds you of Fanny Brice's similar declaration ("Don't Rain On My Parade") at the end of Act I in Funny Girl.
. . . listening together to Barbra Streisand sing "Don't Rain On My Parade" on my original Broadway cast album recording.
. . . discovering a musical allusion to "Don't Rain On My Parade" in Wicked's "One Short Day to the Emerald City" (it was my daughter who figured out that the allusion occurs when Glinda mentions seeing a show--"Wizomania"--upon their arrival in the city).
. . . deciding that next week we will watch some movies together: one that my daughter wants me to see (the first Harry Potter) and one that I want her to see (Funny Girl).
. . . squishing up next to one another so that we can both read the lyrics in the CD liner notes, and discovering that when Elphaba and Glinda sing simultaneously at the end of "For Good" the normally mezzo Elphaba sings the high part while soprano Glinda sings the low part (reflecting the lyrics "because I knew you, I have been changed for good").
. . . watching a YouTube video of scenes from Harry Potter movies effectively and movingly set to the Wicked soundtrack!
Parents, myself included, often look at the children growing up before their eyes and mourn the disappearance of the various stages of that growth--infancy, toddlerhood, the preschool years--but at times like this I rejoice in the stunning people my children are becoming as they journey towards adulthood and the many yet to be revealed joys and blessings those years are going to bring. My daughter will always be my daughter and I will always be her mother, but how amazing it is to experience her more and more each day as a friend.
P.S. to Wicked fans: here are a couple of bits of trivia for you. Did you know that "Elphaba" (the name of the wicked witch in the story) was created by author Gregory Maguire by morphing the initials F. L. B. (for Frank L. Baum) into a name? And did you also know that Idina Menzell, the originator of the role of Elphaba on Broadway, played Patrick Dempsey's girlfriend in Enchanted? (She said she didn't mind that it was a minor role because she was thrilled to be hired for only her acting and not her singing talent.)
Friday, August 1, 2008
Unplugged
What do you do when you find yourself without television, radio, internet, telephone (both land-based and cellular) or even a few family board games for five days?
You read. A lot. Last Friday my children and I landed in just this situation as we settled in for a stay at Camp Luther in Schuyler, Nebraska. During the same time my husband was lodging at the decidedly more luxurious Benedictine Monastery in the same town, serving as musician for a Lutheran pastors' retreat. When we realized that his work at the retreat would come right on the heels of our trip to Seward, Nebraska for our church body's national worship conference and that it would be necessary for us to stay in Nebraska with him unless we wanted to fly home or take separate cars, I went looking for cheap accommodations. I stumbled on Camp Luther by doing a web search for camping in Schuyler (thinking it would be cheaper for us to camp than stay in a hotel). And boy, did I hit pay dirt. When I contacted the director of of the camp, we were offered a place to stay on a donation-only basis--in other words, whatever we wanted to pay. Of course, we leaped at the offer, and the accommodations far exceeded my hopes. We had a kitchen, two bathrooms (the cabin we stayed in used to be a duplex but has been converted to one unit), a living area, and a bedroom with a double bed and a set of bunk beds. If we had chosen, we could have eaten in the camp cafeteria, but with the available kitchen facilities I just ended up cooking all week.
My husband stayed with us the first night, and after we had checked in and unpacked the car he invited me to come outside with him and enjoy the night. We stood there listening to the night, hearing nothing but the bugs--no cars passing by, not even in the distance; no voices; no radios blaring; not even any dogs barking. And no lights to speak of either, just the blackness and the stars. That utter quiet and dark is something I remember experiencing during the several years I lived out in the country in my childhood but as a Chicago burb dweller it is now unknown to me. I wish I could bottle some of that and take it home.
We were in such a remote location--several miles of dirt road separating us from the nearest highway and nothing but farms and cornfields in every direction--that as mentioned we found ourselves completely unplugged from all our electronic tethers. And because I did not have room to pack games and recreational equipment, we didn't have a lot to do except enjoy the camp facilities and our books. So other than eating and sleeping and hiking (there was a small lake with a sand beach but the water did not invite these city slickers to swim in it), we buried our noses in books. Here is some of what I read over our five days at Camp Luther:
The last 10 or so chapters of Hakim's History of US, Book 9 (catching up with my kids)
Stories of the Second World War by Paul Dowsell (again, catching up with my kids)
The first few chapters of How Should We Then Live? by Francis Schaeffer
Several issues of National Review and World magazines
Reading the Psalms with Luther (in part)
About half of The Secret Life of Bees (still working on that one--it is a stunningly good read so far)
And . . . drum roll, please . . . I finally read my first Harry Potter book! So now I can talk knowingly about all kinds of things like invisibility cloaks and Muggles and Quidditch and You-Know-Who! (But I've only read the first one, so don't spill any plot beans because at this rate--one per summer--I'll not be finishing the series until my 50th birthday.)
I will admit that unplugging was a bit of a shock to the system, because all of us are used to internet access 24/7. But after about a day of withdrawal, I was glad for the deprivation, knowing that without it I probably would have not spent as much time in my books. I used to be an avid reader, but now find myself going many months without reading anything (except blogs) for pure pleasure. Considering all the great books out there, I find that quite dismaying. So it was a treat to rediscover my passion for reading this past week. I hope come fall I can manage to set aside a little time each day to continue pursuing it.
It was a great five days, clouded only by a summer cold that started with my youngest and has now made its way through the whole family, hitting me much harder than anyone else (why is that?--does the fact that I got way sicker than the others say something about my general degree of healthiness?). Yesterday we left Schuyler and drove to St. Peter, Minnesota (what a gorgeous town) to stop in at the worship conference being held there by the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod and to make an early college visit to Bethany Lutheran College in Mankato, which we are considering for my 15-year-old son in a few years. (Glenda, lack of time and colds ruled out a stop by your place this time--please forgive me, but I would not have wanted to make your family sick!) Today we're driving home. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed tonight! Tomorrow it's a marathon of laundry as my son and husband prepare to leave for another road trip on Sunday--this time it's to the U.S. Open (chess) in Dallas, Texas followed by a stopoff to see my husband's parents in Houston.
That's the report from the last few weeks. Stay tuned for more road stories!
You read. A lot. Last Friday my children and I landed in just this situation as we settled in for a stay at Camp Luther in Schuyler, Nebraska. During the same time my husband was lodging at the decidedly more luxurious Benedictine Monastery in the same town, serving as musician for a Lutheran pastors' retreat. When we realized that his work at the retreat would come right on the heels of our trip to Seward, Nebraska for our church body's national worship conference and that it would be necessary for us to stay in Nebraska with him unless we wanted to fly home or take separate cars, I went looking for cheap accommodations. I stumbled on Camp Luther by doing a web search for camping in Schuyler (thinking it would be cheaper for us to camp than stay in a hotel). And boy, did I hit pay dirt. When I contacted the director of of the camp, we were offered a place to stay on a donation-only basis--in other words, whatever we wanted to pay. Of course, we leaped at the offer, and the accommodations far exceeded my hopes. We had a kitchen, two bathrooms (the cabin we stayed in used to be a duplex but has been converted to one unit), a living area, and a bedroom with a double bed and a set of bunk beds. If we had chosen, we could have eaten in the camp cafeteria, but with the available kitchen facilities I just ended up cooking all week.
My husband stayed with us the first night, and after we had checked in and unpacked the car he invited me to come outside with him and enjoy the night. We stood there listening to the night, hearing nothing but the bugs--no cars passing by, not even in the distance; no voices; no radios blaring; not even any dogs barking. And no lights to speak of either, just the blackness and the stars. That utter quiet and dark is something I remember experiencing during the several years I lived out in the country in my childhood but as a Chicago burb dweller it is now unknown to me. I wish I could bottle some of that and take it home.
We were in such a remote location--several miles of dirt road separating us from the nearest highway and nothing but farms and cornfields in every direction--that as mentioned we found ourselves completely unplugged from all our electronic tethers. And because I did not have room to pack games and recreational equipment, we didn't have a lot to do except enjoy the camp facilities and our books. So other than eating and sleeping and hiking (there was a small lake with a sand beach but the water did not invite these city slickers to swim in it), we buried our noses in books. Here is some of what I read over our five days at Camp Luther:
The last 10 or so chapters of Hakim's History of US, Book 9 (catching up with my kids)
Stories of the Second World War by Paul Dowsell (again, catching up with my kids)
The first few chapters of How Should We Then Live? by Francis Schaeffer
Several issues of National Review and World magazines
Reading the Psalms with Luther (in part)
About half of The Secret Life of Bees (still working on that one--it is a stunningly good read so far)
And . . . drum roll, please . . . I finally read my first Harry Potter book! So now I can talk knowingly about all kinds of things like invisibility cloaks and Muggles and Quidditch and You-Know-Who! (But I've only read the first one, so don't spill any plot beans because at this rate--one per summer--I'll not be finishing the series until my 50th birthday.)
I will admit that unplugging was a bit of a shock to the system, because all of us are used to internet access 24/7. But after about a day of withdrawal, I was glad for the deprivation, knowing that without it I probably would have not spent as much time in my books. I used to be an avid reader, but now find myself going many months without reading anything (except blogs) for pure pleasure. Considering all the great books out there, I find that quite dismaying. So it was a treat to rediscover my passion for reading this past week. I hope come fall I can manage to set aside a little time each day to continue pursuing it.
It was a great five days, clouded only by a summer cold that started with my youngest and has now made its way through the whole family, hitting me much harder than anyone else (why is that?--does the fact that I got way sicker than the others say something about my general degree of healthiness?). Yesterday we left Schuyler and drove to St. Peter, Minnesota (what a gorgeous town) to stop in at the worship conference being held there by the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod and to make an early college visit to Bethany Lutheran College in Mankato, which we are considering for my 15-year-old son in a few years. (Glenda, lack of time and colds ruled out a stop by your place this time--please forgive me, but I would not have wanted to make your family sick!) Today we're driving home. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed tonight! Tomorrow it's a marathon of laundry as my son and husband prepare to leave for another road trip on Sunday--this time it's to the U.S. Open (chess) in Dallas, Texas followed by a stopoff to see my husband's parents in Houston.
That's the report from the last few weeks. Stay tuned for more road stories!
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