Rehearsing the Rach 2

Blogging Slowdown

You may have noticed a downturn in posts the past week. It will probably continue a while longer, for several reasons. Number one, I am in my busiest piano season, playing for various school competitions (and the requisite rehearsals) in addition to normal practices for the ensembles I accompany. Number two, it is Lent, which means more time spent attending midweek services and extra rehearsals for Easter. Number three, my mom continues in rehab, so I am still making multiple trips each week to the facility that is caring for her (we recently moved her and are much happier with her new accommodations). And number four, I have been sick. I don't know if I had one cold, started to get better and then relapsed, or if I got a new and different cold on the heels of the first one. Either way, I have been dragging through all of the above for a couple of weeks now and still don't feel anywhere near my normal level of energy. I am supposed to be going to therapy for my foot but haven't had time. Luckily my foot seems to be doing okay. I have been almost exclusively wearing athletic shoes with custom orthotics ever since I got out of the boot.

Last night I went to bed at 8:30 and slept until 6:30 this morning. Thank you for enabling that, family! I needed the sleep--even being sick I have had my share of insomniac nights. I would like to blame something that happened earlier this week on fatigue and illness rather than on general stupidity. I filled in as accompanist at Caitlin's community youth choir rehearsal and ended up having to play the rehearsal with my bifocals rather than my prescription reading glasses because, I assumed, I had left the reading glasses at home. (My readers are preferred for playing piano because the bifocals require that I throw my head back to get the necessary magnification, a posture that causes neck and back pain in short order.) Anyway, I discovered later that no, I didn't leave the readers at home but rather switched them out with my bifocals in order to drive to rehearsal and left them sitting in my lap, whence, gravity being what it is, they fell to the ground when I stood up and got out of the car. There they lay for about three hours until I sorted out the mystery and drove back to retrieve them. By that time, they had been irredeemably stepped on or driven over, take your pick. Bummer. I now have a new $7.99 pair of readers from Target. The insurance plan does allow for me to get new glasses this year but I would like those to be a new pair of bifocals.

Ah, well. It all pales when I think about next week. In eight days we will be driving to Nebraska to see Trevor play with the UNL Symphony Orchestra! Here's a preview showing the orchestra in rehearsal, first with the graduate concerto winner and then with Trevor (the undergraduate winner). I can't wait!

The Human Condition

Last night as I tucked Evan into bed he told me, "Mom, there's something about my life I don't like."

Of course I wanted to know what he was talking about. "Really, Evan? What?"

"Well, it seems like every day I either hurt myself or something bad happens."

Sigh. I know, honey. It's all right there in Genesis 3. Thank God that wasn't the end of the story. Revelation 21:4, we're counting on you. Come, Lord Jesus.

Ashless Wednesday

Last night was our first Ash Wednesday at our new church. Even though it was Ash Wednesday, we didn't have imposition of ashes. When I discovered our new church doesn't "do" ashes, I was disappointed. For years, both as a Lutheran and previously as a Roman Catholic, I have associated the beginning of the season of Lent with the receiving of ashes on my forehead. Last night as we drove to church I decided I better let Evan know there wouldn't be ashes. I was surprised at how disappointed he was--so much so that he cried a little. To comfort him I tried to help him to see that the ashes are only a symbol--a meaningful one, for sure, but still just a symbol. I contrasted the imposition of ashes with Baptism and the Lord's Supper, pointing out that the sacraments are not symbols but are means by which God gives to us His grace and forgiveness. We need them--our spiritual life depends on them. But we don't need the ashes. God does not work through the ashes. We will not be deprived of what is truly needful if we don't get them. Maybe all of this seems terribly elementary, but I think it helped Evan to see the difference between something that is a symbol and something that is not, and to realize that the symbol might be a nice tool to aid our remembrance and our reflection, but it is not essential to our salvation and therefore not necessary to our worship life.

Guess what? I don't think any of us missed the ashes last night. The service was so beautiful and rich in God's word and sacraments, and the theme of Ash Wednesday so powerfully communicated in the liturgy, that the message came through unequivocally without them: "We were therefore buried with Him through baptism into death, in order that just as Christ was raised from the dead to the glory of the Father, we too may live a new life." (Romans 6:4) If our new church ever decides to include imposition of ashes, or if we ever attend a church in the future where we have the opportunity to partake in this outward acknowledgement of our sinful, mortal flesh, I will probably participate. But I don't need ashes on my forehead to tell me what I already know: I am a poor, miserable sinner who, like Adam, was formed from dust and will return to dust. What I absolutely do need, to redeem me from that awful truth, is the salvation and forgiveness of sins that come through Holy Baptism and Communion, which are not mere symbols but conduits of the Father's love and grace.

To read one Lutheran pastor's thoughts about why his confessional, liturgical church has made an intentional decision against the imposition of ashes in its Ash Wednesday service, click here.

Early February Update

The orthopedic boot came off yesterday. I also had my first therapy yesterday. All is going well. The ultrasound the day before yesterday showed not a tear but simple, garden variety tendonitis, probably already improved due to a week in a boot. It was weird when I first walked without the boot. The whole leg--not just the foot--felt weak. My knee occasionally threatens to buckle. I don't get that, since my knee was not injured, but maybe it's just not being well supported by the foot and ankle? I am very glad that I had my mom's cane, stair lift, and shower chair to help me through the last week. And I have learned my lesson. No serious walking in anything but my custom orthotics in the future. 

I am very glad I got out of the boot before Solo & Ensemble season kicks off in earnest this week.

Phillip is in St. Louis right now for a board meeting for our church body. He is deep into the second module of his colloquy program. It is taking all of his non-work time, but at least he can do it from the easy chair in our bedroom! Let's hear it for technology (and comfy chairs).

We had our second wimpy round of snow this week. Evan finally did get a little snow play, but nothing like this! 

Willard the puppy continues to impress us. We truly think we got the perfect dog. We have a doggy door that he learned to use right away. Lately we have been keeping it shut for periods of time so that he doesn't go out on his own and come back in all muddy without someone wiping off his feet. A few days ago the doggy door had been shut for a while and Willard went over to it then returned to the sliding glass door, sat down, looked at me, and gave out one sharp bark. I let him out. I love that dog. 

It seems that for a very long time now I have not been able to motivate myself to give the house the attention I would like. We're not living in filth. But I am not the organization and cleanliness maven I used to be. When I was young I would clean the whole house in one day and then enjoy that clean feeling for a little while. Now I can't physically clean the whole house in one day, even with help. There just isn't time. So I never get the pleasure of that clean feeling and I think that is a deterrent. Why bother? But I need and want to bother. I have decided I need to let go of the concept of a clean house and just make it my goal to clean or organize at least one thing per day. I guess if I at least get a closet clean I can go and sit in the clean closet for a while. We'll see how that strategy goes.

While we're on the subject of keeping house, can I just say here for the record that I am not a foodie? I am so not a foodie. All those people on all the cooking shows talking at warp speed about food leave me scratching my head. Who cares? I would be overjoyed to never have to shop, cook, or for that matter, eat, again. (Unless it's chocolate.) I know people who love to think about food and plan for it and who get intense aesthetic satisfaction from talking about it and looking at it and eating it. My husband is one. Poor man, he married someone who would be happy to subsist on bread and water. 

There. True confession. I feel better. Are we still friends?

P.S. I still owe you another Washington, D.C., post.

Wordless Wednesday

Detour

I have previously written about my foot issues. I have managed them fairly well the last few years through the wearing of better shoes or shoes with orthotics. But last week within several days of returning from Washington, D.C., I was having the most trouble I've had in a long time. I can't point to any one moment the trouble started. I didn't notice it while we were walking around the city (other than what I would consider normal fatigue) or even for a couple of days after. But by Tuesday of last week I was having enough pain in my left foot* that it hurt to stuff my foot into a shoe and it hurt to walk and bear weight. I wasn't able to get to the doctor until Thursday. The x-ray looked good, so no fracture (I would have been really surprised if there had been one). I will have an ultrasound in a few days, but my podiatrist's working diagnosis is injury to my posterior tibial tendon.

If you look at the tendon in the drawing, the place where it curves around the inner ankle area before disappearing under the foot is the place where I am having pain. It may just be that all the walking on my aging, out of shape feet (walking that I did in my Birkenstocks rather than my orthotics) caused some tendonitis**. Worst case scenario is that my tendon is torn. At any rate, here is my new friend for the foreseeable future.

It does not surprise me that my left foot is the one that is protesting. It is the same foot that has the Morton's neuroma. The left side of my body is the side that provides me with all kinds of fodder for complaining. When I have shoulder, back, hand, or knee pain, it is on the left side. My D.O. (Doctor of Osteopathy) has told me that my left leg is shorter than my right leg. Kind of surprising that I lean to the right, huh? ;-) The hidden blessing is that since it's my left foot I can still drive and use the damper pedal! (The soft pedal is another story--sorry that final chord on the choral offering was louder than it should have been this morning, honey.)

The boot has helped a lot, making it possible to walk without pain. It has also complicated my life, making it harder to get around, harder to get dressed, and harder to keep my foot dry in snowy, rainy weather. But I'm walking, and that's a good thing!

*It probably did not help that on Monday I dropped an exercise weight on it.

**This is how I want to spell this word. I don't understand the logic of spelling it "tendinitis."

Not From a Lutheran Pastor . . .

. . . but still one of the best things I have read in a while about what it means to be a pastor.  (Disclaimer: I have read nothing else on this blog, don't know the writer's "angle," and am not promoting his blog as a whole. But I really liked this post, which I saw linked elsewhere and thought worth sharing here.)

An excerpt:

". . . if the function of being an elder [read: pastor] . . . is to nurture the spiritual development and growth of his brothers and sisters in the church, maybe the first thing [to do] would be to spend time praying for those people? And then maybe you could spend time with them? Perhaps you might decide to read books about how to listen more, or how to encourage people? You might also want to try doing all of these things without an ulterior motive like wanting to use your influence on people to get them to do stuff, or to give you money, or to volunteer for something. Just love them and listen to them and bless them and encourage them because you love them, and because you genuinely feel called –and gifted – by God to care for people.

"See, Pastors who are obsessed with leadership are like husbands who expect to improve their marriages by reading books about monster trucks. Not only is leadership not related to loving people, it will train you to become more self-focused and less others-focused.

"Books about leadership make you a better leader – in the worldly, CEO, 'I’m the boss' sense of the word – but if you really want to learn how to please Jesus and be the best 'shepherd' you can be, just focus on learning how to love people more, and to serve people more. It’s what Jesus did. It’s also what Jesus commanded us to do. He got down on his knees and washed the feet of this disciples, and then he said, 'Now that you know these things you will be blessed . . . if you do them' (Not if you read them, or if you know them, but only if you 'do' them)."

(by Keith Giles, January 30, 2013, subversive1.blogspot.com)

He Gives to All of Them Their Names

LCMS Life Conference and March for Life 2013 from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Washington, D.C. - Thursday

We arrived in D.C. one week ago today! The plane ride was uneventful. I think I handled it better because it was dark outside. Evan spent part of the trip writing in his journal.

It was late when we landed so all we did Wednesday was check in to the hotel and go to sleep. We had planned a full day for Thursday. The hotel (Hyatt Regency, Crystal City) provided a shuttle to the Metro station. After a slight delay as we figured out what sort of train ticket to buy (we settled on all-day passes), we boarded the train for the Mall.

First stop was the U. S. History Museum at the Smithsonian. We saw one of the original Kermit the Frog puppets,

Archie Bunker's chair and Bob Dylan's jacket, 

a 1980s (I think) computer,

Dorothy's ruby slippers,

and a bunch more stuff. A favorite area was that containing Presidential and First Lady memorabilia. We enjoyed looking at the gowns of the First Ladies as well as the Presidential china. We noticed that the official china has gotten more nationalistic in theme in modern times, probably coinciding with the string of 20th-century wars in which the U.S. has been involved. We saw the desk on which Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence (not a full-size desk but more of a writing easel) and so many other items that I can't begin to remember them all. I should have taken more pictures.

Probably the highlight of this tour was seeing the original Star-Spangled Banner, the one that flew over Fort McHenry during the War of 1812 and inspired Francis Scott Key to write what would become our national anthem. It is huge, kept in a closed case in a darkened room where pictures are not allowed. Yes, I cried.

From U.S. History we went to the building known as "The Castle."  It houses the Smithsonian administrative offices and serves as a repository of information/memorabilia about how the Smithsonian came to be. There is also an exhibition room that I think changes content periodically; currently, it houses a collection of Civil War photography, which we found very interesting. We had lunch at the Castle cafe and nearly had a heart attack when our bill (for things like sandwiches, salads, and chips) came to over $60 for four people. Lesson learned the hard way (as so many of them are).

Our third stop for the day was the National Gallery of Art (see previous post). Evan liked this atrium room. The focal point was the French fountain in the middle of the room, Cherubs Playing with a Lyre. I know that is what it was called because Evan took time to take notes about it in his journal. :-)

I am so glad I happened to walk by Renoir's Girl with a Watering Can. I didn't know it was in this museum, but it is one of my favorite all-time paintings. My mother had a print of it when I was a little girl and she used to tell me I was the girl in the painting. I have used it for my profile pic in the past here and on Facebook. Maybe some day I will have a reproduction hanging in my house.

From the National Gallery we had hoped to visit the National Archives, but it was already closed for the day. :-( So we boarded a train for our last planned stop, Arlington National Cemetery. Our goal was to make it in time for the final (5:00 p.m.) public Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns. It was a long, cold hike up the hill (and an even colder walk down), but we made it, and I am so glad we did. I will never forget it.


Changing of the Guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns from Cheryl on Vimeo.

I will write about Friday in the next post.

Mini Art Lesson: The Copley Family

Last week while in Washington, D.C., we were able to visit the National Gallery of Art. We had only a few hours to spend so saw only a small number of rooms. We made a point of seeing Michelangelo's David-Apollo, currently on loan from Italy. And we sought out the French impressionists and the Americans.

One painting that held our attention for a while was this one by John Singleton Copley. (I'm sure our tarrying near it had nothing to do with the fact that there was a nice bench, big enough for all of us, positioned right in front of it.) Copley was a Colonial painter born in Boston who moved to England in 1774 for artistic, not political reasons, and ended up spending the rest of his life there. Copley was known best for his portraits, and the painting below is one he painted of himself and his family. We knew from the label in the museum that this painting was of the Copley family and that it was painted in 1776, but we didn't know anything else and so set about trying to interpret it. After some discussion we decided that the seated gentleman is probably father to either the woman or the man standing behind him and we wondered if perhaps his sour expression reflects some dissatisfaction with his son/son-in-law. Could he be a Royalist and the younger Copley a Patriot? We also noted the older gentleman's disinterest in the little girl on his lap and wondered if his unhappiness is due to the apparent absence of a male heir (all the children looked female to us). We also noted that the little girl in front seems to reflect a seriousness and maturity older than her years--she struck us as almost queen-like. And we thought that there must be some significance to the doll that has been tossed aside. Could that in some way represent the loss of innocence of a young nation?

Most of our conclusions were wrong. (Hey, we are musicians, not artists, remember?) We were right that the seated gentleman is the grandfather of the family. His son, standing behind him, is John Singleton Copley, the artist. But it turns out there is a male heir--the youngest child, sitting in his mother's lap and commanding all of her attention. (We forgot that very young male children of the period typically had long hair and wore long gowns.)

We sincerely enjoyed looking at this painting. It is a very large work, almost life-sized, and there was just so much story in it. We wanted to find out more about it so did a little research when we got home. Here is one article I found that, although it is highly gender-driven in its approach, nevertheless had some interesting and helpful observations.

And People Say There Is No God

We got back from Washington, D.C., and the 40th Annual March for Life, a few hours ago. Our flight was due to depart D.C. at 2:00; it was delayed, and we didn't get off the ground until about 3:30. Here's a photo of our tired crew waiting at Ronald Reagan National Airport.

The flight was extremely full and it was a chaotic and rushed boarding as the crew tried to recoup lost time. We had to divide ourselves as a family between the two sides of the aisle, one of which had two seats and one of which had three. Caitlin and Phillip took the two-seat side, and Evan and I took the three-seat side. There was already a young man sitting by the window, and Evan demurred at sitting by a stranger, so I took that seat and gave Evan the aisle seat. By this time, rather stressed by the boarding process, I looked at the young (20-ish) man by the window and mouthed a "Phew!" He smiled sympathetically and we struck up a conversation. He asked what had brought us to D.C. and said, "Cool" when I told him my husband had served as the musician for a Lutheran conference that was held in conjunction with the March for Life. He asked what sights we had seen and then volunteered that at this point in his life he was rather unimpressed with the nation's capital since it was his hometown and he had been going on field trips to all of the attractions for years. Further conversation revealed that he is currently studying video game design at Columbia College in Chicago. Well, that was all it took. I became invisible as Evan and our traveling companion proceeded to talk video games nonstop for the rest of the 1-1/2 hours we spent in the air. About ten minutes in I suggested that Evan and I trade places, a move which afforded me a good hour's worth of personal time for reading, prayer ("Please, God, let us land in one piece") and reflection. Evan's new friend pulled out his computer and shared one of his current school projects, showing my budding game designer what is actually involved in working with a team of people to create a video game, from conception to planning to writing code to testing and I'm not sure what else. He was impressed that Evan has designed his own video and board games on paper and encouraged him to keep doing so. He kindly listened to and encouraged my son's nine-year-old thoughts delivered in nine-year-old fashion. About halfway through the flight the lady sitting directly in front of me turned around and smiled: "You hit the jackpot, Mom." It turned out she was a retired third grade teacher and was so impressed with Evan's knowledge and conversational skill that she asked whether he was in the Gifted and Talented program in school. When I told her we homeschool she nodded and said, "Good for you." With an bit of an eye roll she said she used to be one of those "evil Chicago teachers." I noticed that the friend she was traveling with was wearing an "I regret my abortion" button.

As I think back on the day I find myself picturing God sitting up in heaven grinning at the dots that got connected on this flight. A young video game designer in the seat next to me? A former third grade teacher (Evan is in third grade) in the seat in front of me? And to think that during the last 30 minutes or so before we boarded I was beginning to have pretty serious anxiety as I imagined everything that could possibly go wrong with our flight, in spite of having taken the anti-anxiety medication my doctor prescribes to help me deal with my fear of flying. Instead, a more tolerable--nay, perfect--flight I could not have conjured. My one regret is that we will probably never see that young man again, and I was not bold enough to ask for his contact information. I think I will wonder in years to come what became of him--whether he succeeded in his chosen field and whether that success earned the approval that he said his father was only starting to show signs of granting his vocational choice. One thing I know: whether Evan ends up clinging to or letting go of his video game designing goals, I will always be thankful for a young man in the seventeenth row who took the time to listen to a nine-year-old's dream.

International Center Recital

French Suite No. 2 in C-minor by J.S. Bach from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Rhapsody in G-Minor, Op. 79, No. 2 - J. Brahms from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Gargoyles, Op. 29, by Lowell Liebermann from Cheryl on Vimeo.

I ran out of memory before the final movement of Gargoyles. Here is another performance that includes that final movement at about the 4:20 mark.

 
"Gargoyles" - Op. 29 by Lowell Liebermann from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Piano Recital

"Round Dance" Op. 101, No. 60 - F Beyer from Cheryl on Vimeo.
Sonata in D, L. 463 - D. Scarlatti from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Nocturne in E-Flat, Op. 9, No. 2 - F. Chopin from Cheryl on Vimeo.

Norman Dello Joio Suite for Piano from Cheryl on Vimeo.

January Update

My mother, who broke her hip on Christmas Day, continues in rehab. She had her first post-surgery appointment and x-ray last week, and healing is progressing on schedule. In two more weeks she will have another x-ray, and if things still look good, she will get the go-ahead to start bearing her full weight on the repaired hip. I am hoping that at that point her progress will accelerate and she will soon be back home.

We are going to Washington, D.C.! My husband is serving as musician for the LCMS Life Conference, which is taking place in conjunction with the 40th Annual March for Life later this week. We decided we couldn't miss this opportunity to see our nation's capital--my husband has been there, but the rest of us have not. We will leave on Wednesday so as to enjoy a full day of sight-seeing together on Thursday. On Friday Caitlin will be accompanying her dad on the March while Evan and I do some more sight-seeing. We realize two days in Washington, D.C. are hardly sufficient, but we will see what we can. At the top of the list is the Smithsonian, which Evan learned about from a Peanuts history video. We also hope to visit some of the monuments, at least see the outside of the White House, and if time allows, drop by Arlington National Cemetery. We come home on Saturday. Prayers for safe travel--and for calm for your aerophobic blogger--would be most appreciated.

As mentioned a few posts ago, Caitlin and I have started reading Paradise Lost. She has read some of it before, but this time we are going to work our way through the whole thing. I am looking forward to it. Milton holds a special place in my literary heart. 

Speaking of Caitlin, she is reading Evan his first Little House book (Little House in the Big Woods). Earlier this week, after reading about how the Ingalls made butter in a churn, Caitlin asked me to buy some cream so that she and Evan could make some, too. It is so nice having not only another teacher in the house, but one who enjoys the hands-on approach to learning that I tend to neglect. 

Phillip has recently started a program of study to receive his colloquy as a Director of Parish Music. Until very recently there was no such path for a musician in the LCMS. We are so pleased that now there is and that in a matter of months Phillip will be able to complete the requirements leading to his becoming a rostered worker in the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod. He began studying for his colloquy some years ago but put it on hold due to the unsuitability of the program. It was geared towards teachers and there were classes that were not a good investment of his time and money and that in fact duplicated courses he had already taken or ignored his extensive on-the-job experience. Now our church body is offering a program of study customized to the parish musician, and Phillip is very much enjoying his studies.

If you've been wondering about the ABP (Anything But Politics) Challenge, it is still mostly on, but it really isn't a challenge anymore. I am still not watching cable news or listening to talk radio. I gave some thought to downgrading our cable package but discovered that even going down one package would save us very little. We would have to go all the way down to basic and if we did that other people in the house would probably object. So I guess we will keep the news stations and I will keep on ignoring them. Every now and then I click on a link on Facebook or an article in my Google reader, but I'm wondering if I will ever again feel that it is worth my emotional investment to pay much attention to the outside world.

We got a light dusting of snow in Chicagoland this morning. There is the possibility of more later this week while we're out of town. Poor Evan. He has been waiting for a good snow all winter long.

It seems that so many people are sick! Way more this winter than I remember hearing about the last few years. We have somehow avoided all of it so far--both the flu and the intestinal virus that has been going around. We do not get the flu shot, and when I hear about people who did get it succumbing nonetheless, I feel vindicated.

Willard the puppy is about six months old now and is fully trained and settled in to the family routine. My kitchen floor is staying much cleaner between sweepings these days!

This Is Marriage, Part 2

As illustrated in the previous post, being married for a long time means being able to communicate, sometimes, without even talking. It also means accepting the other person even as he or she changes over time. For example, in the old days my husband and I would sit in the same room together and he would read politics while I read Shakespeare. Now we sit in the same room together and he reads theology while I post silly pictures on Facebook. What is rather surreal is when he reads the theology out loud while I am posting the silly pictures.

Sir, I am too old to learn. - William Shakespeare, King Lear, 2.2.99

This Is Marriage

When your husband lifts his eyes from the pages of Koehler's Dogmatics long enough to look deep into your own, and, relying not on words but on the strength of nearly thirty years of communicative history, to send the silent but unequivocal and performative message: "Coffee."

Here you go, love. Mind if I join you?

He speaks (or not); therefore, he drinks. 

Caitlin, On First Looking Into Milton's Paradise Lost, Book I

"Satan's a windbag."

 (She's right, by the way. Total windbag.)

Things I Learned (or Relearned) in 2012

It is the time for taking stock, no? Here are some of my random thoughts about 2012--either things I learned or things I was freshly reminded of.

That thing you think is impossible? That you would never in a million years have believed could happen? It can happen.

If you think you can safely predict where you will be and what you will be doing at this time next year, think again.

The human capacity for self-deception and rationalization is truly unlimited. (I include myself in the category "human," by the way.)

The things that people say are often not the things they believe but rather the things they are trying to convince themselves to believe.

If someone is mean on the internet, he will be mean in person.

If someone is mean to others, he will be mean to you.

You find out who truly cares about you when you become less useful and more inconvenient.

Your gut instinct is more reliable than you know.

How people behave around children says a lot about their character.

The best way to salvage a relationship is in person, not writing.

Ninety-nine percent of internet debate is a waste of time.

I am happier when I don't watch, read or listen to the news.

You can't make someone care about you.

God takes care of His children. 

A Very Good Day

 Lecturing

Playing

Still playing

Celebrating!