Some days are just better than others

Some days are just better than others. I think we all agree on that. So here's my day today. The endodontist moved up my appointment for my very first root canal. So it's today instead of next week. Fun, fun, fun. And to cap that (excuse my pun), it's sleeting. Yes, indeedy. March 30th and my car is covered with ice. Even though weather.com says it's raining in my zipcode, the radar shows a tiny pocket of ice and it must be stuck over my house. So I'm counting the minutes until I can dress warmly, scrape off my car and go have my teeth drilled. And as I wait, I'm listening to the rhythm of the falling sleet and the rumble of the snowplow which sounds like a giant skateboard going down my street. It makes it a tad difficult to concentrate on my writing.

There's always an upside. This tooth has been sensitive for a while. I've cracked it, probably grinding my teeth when I had migraines. (Isn't it bad enough that I have to have migraines?) So it will feel better if not today then tomorrow. And I can always think about one of my darlings having fun in Paris as we speak, and another having the time of his life preparing a race car, and another basking in the glory of her recent accomplishments and awards and another one getting hugs and kisses from her wee ones as she homeschools them. Some days vicarious enjoyment is all you get.

Easter Program

I am the music chairman of my ward or congregation. This means I am a facilitator more than anything. But sometimes, my job is more demanding. Today we had our Easter program. Although I was rawther busy, Eloise-style, I did notice from time to time that people were listening and and were touched by what they heard.

The choir did three numbers, a quartet including my honey sang, we had two solos, a young women's choir and the children sang too. We had scriptures read in between all the numbers.  A beautiful young mother from our ward read all the scriptures. She's studying broadcasting at a local university. Her readings were beautiful and touching. The performances represented many hours of practice and it showed. The messages came through loud and clear.

A hint to those putting on this kind of thing. We are often tempted to end with the big finish. But I had felt inspired to end the program very quietly. I had a tenor soloist sing "Lean on My Ample Arm." If you don't know the words to this hymn, they are here. This website is really cool. You can also listen to the hymn tune here. That page takes a while to load so you might have to be a bit patient. But it will play you the hymn in any key you want. It will even just play your part so you can learn to sing alto, tenor or bass. How cool is that?

I had many hats to wear--choir director, accompanist and organist. I didn't play or conduct as well as I usually do because of ....NEW CONTACTS! Sorry I had to yell there. But I haven't had them for years and years. And these new ones seem to be really working. Even though they're new this week, I decided to wear them because church day is one of my most frustrating days vision-wise. When I'm playing the organ I have to wear my computer glasses which means that chorister (music director) is blurry. Then I have to use regular glasses to see distance. And to read scriptures in classes and things, I might have to pop off my glasses altogether to read small print. So even though it was not my best idea to try out the contacts on the service, it went well. I dropped a few notes on the piano and I had trouble reading the words to the music I was conducting (note to self. I should always memorize the music beforehand.) But the prospect of not having to tote around two pair of glasses and alternate between them was so tempting.

When I arrived here two years ago, there was no called organist. I had an instant job. We had one young father who was teaching himself to play the piano and another gentleman who played by ear. (They're both gone now and we miss them.) But now we have a pianist for the children, a pianist for the women's meeting who also does choir and who loves to play the organ when I'm not there, a lovely lady who plays beautifully by ear and moi. Amazing!

The picture of the iris is from last year. It doesn't look very Easter-y outside right now. We've had a couple of freezes and my crocuses are the only things blooming and they look rather limp. I see why my cousins always had Easter coats! Br-r-r. But I"m thinking spring.

I love my pattern shop

I think I've said this already. I do love my pattern shop. Here's my new banner that my brilliant daughter made for me:

Isn't that the cutest thing? I had this dress in green in the sixties. It was actually an Easter dress. And it's my granddaughter V's favorite color: owange. She came to our house a long time ago and was just learning to point out colors. She just walked around the house saying "owange...mo owange"

Also, I ask my pattern buyers to send me photos of their finished projects and finally someone took me up on it. She used one of my patterns to make costumes for a high production of "Annie." First the original pattern and then the two she made from it. She did a fabulous job. Firstly, she did a wonderful job altering the pattern to add the puffed sleeves and changing the pleats on the skirt. Second, they're beautifully made. Those gathers in the puffed sleeves? Not easy folks. Neither are those sharp pleats and the perfect middy braid placement.



I love my job.

Don't Mess with Pennsylvania

This is my pretty little church house. I had to go early this morning to meet the organ repairman. On the way into the parking lot, I noticed a couple of plastic drink bottles in the driveway. I figured I would pick them up on the way out.

After the repair was done, I headed out, stopping to throw the drink bottles in the back of my Outback. Of course, once you pick up a few pieces of litter you see a few more. There were tons of them under the shrubs at the front of the driveway. And strangely, these drink bottles even though they were for orange juice and water and other light colored stuff had some kind of brown liquid in them. At first I thought it was cola, then ants, but then decided it looked like some kind of plant matter. You are already laughing at me. I can hear you out there. But I don't pick up a lot of litter because of my back.  So it took naive little me a few minutes of picking this stuff up to realize that a lovely person or persons had emptied what I hope was a winter's worth of spit and tobacco in front of my church building. It was disgusting.

On the way home I noticed tons more litter. When you're looking for something, you can usually find it. I guess once the snow melted, the litter was revealed.

The "Don't Mess With Texas" campaign is twenty years old. Can you believe it? I think it has really helped. It's just the kind of attitudinal slogan to get Texans fighting mad. But Pennsylvanians obviously need one too. Something like "Keep Pennsylvania Pristine," "William Penn Wants You," or "Hey Youse, Keep it Clean!" I doubt they'll find one as cool as "Don't Mess With Texas" but something obviously needs to be done.

Spring is Here and a Happy Saint Patrick's Day to You!

So spring is officially here in Northeast Pa. How do I know? Are there leaves on the trees? No. Are there daffodils in my garden? No. Are there balmy breezes? No. It's 33 degrees. But I know it's spring. Why? The Dairy Queen is open. Yay! As I passed by after my writers' group last night, I saw a long line waiting for their first soft serve since last fall.

So who are these girls in this Saint Patrick's Day looking green place? Not Irish musicians.Check the instruments. Just good ole Southern girls who sing bluegrass right? Close. They sing awesome bluegrass in close harmony. But they're from New York. Which is almost as weird as salsa from New Jersey. But...

They're really good. They call themselves "Red Molly." Here's the link to their website: wwww.redmolly.com. I was listening to the radio on my way home from my writers' group (I do lots of things on my way home from writers' group) and heard one of my least favorite shows. It's a "new music" show where they introduce new non-classical CDs. I am so amazingly out of step that I never, never, never like this new stuff they play. It's either dreary and depressing or just muy pobre musically. But these girls were good. The DJ played four songs from their new album "James" and I loved all of them. So check them out and let me know what you think. I'm thinking my grandson S will like it as James is one of his favorite names!

On today's list of things to do--trip to grocery store to buy the corned beef brisket for supper. I've already got the cabbage. A trip to the post office to mail MF's birthday box which will be even later than I thought (sorry sweetie--I really hoped to mail it yesterday and got stuck in a huge traffic jam after my eye exam). Work on my new exciting novel about time traveling twins which Michael has decided really starts on page fifteen which means that I now have exactly one page of it written. List some patterns as I had exactly zero sales yesterday. Query Highlights about a great article idea I had. Do loads and loads and loads of laundry. Teach a sewing class. Listen to Pandora's Celtic music station so that I can be in tune with my non-existent Celtic roots. But next year I celebrate St. David's Day. Around here they actually celebrate St. David's day for all us Welsh folk. Missed it this year but it's something to look forward to for next year. Maybe I'll make my Aunt Mame's Welsh cookies in honor of the day. Instead of a shamrock, you're supposed to wear a leek. Can't wait!

Is there such a thing as luck?

A friend of mine posted the question on his Facebook: "Is there such a thing as luck?" He got an amazing range of answers. Until he asked it, I didn't realize that I do indeed believe that some people are more "lucky" than others. That sounds superstitious. Surely this has more to do with my belief in divine destiny. But just thinking about my family makes me feel lucky. I woke up one morning this week in a virtual glow, just thinking about the four children I've been allowed to mother. Every relation I've got shows that I won the family lottery. I only picked one of them and he sought me out, so I guess that makes me lucky there too. I've often said "Why me?" because I have gotten so much of the good stuff in this life when others get so little.

But I also recognize an element of attitude. If you think you are lucky, then you are. I think J. K. Rowling nailed this when she described the Quidditch match when Ron thought he had taken Felix Felicis, a magic luck potion. He saw everything in a positive light and played up to his potential because of it. I realized that in many ways, I get most mornings feeling like I've just had a swig of Felix. I just assume that good things are going to happen to me. Is this because so many good things have already happened to me, or is it because I make my own luck by focusing on the positives?

Now before I leave you with the  idea that I'm some sort of sickening Pollyanna/Little Miss Mary Sunshine combo, I'm not. I am a past master at thinking up the worst case scenario, particularly when it comes to financial decisions. When you look at my personal life earnings, you can understand this. And some days I can look at the dark side of things with the best of them. But I think it's fair to say that if there is such a thing as luck, I've been given tons of it.

I just asked my sweetheart how he felt about the same question. He admitted that although he too believes in divine destiny and answered prayers, he feels lucky too. He feels that things will just work out for him. So there you have it. We're lucky. And just in time for Saint Patrick's day.

Woo-Hoo! I'm published again!

Wish I could show you the whole article but there are things called copyrights. And let me say right now that the content of these photos is copyrighted by Carus Publications.

This is the March issue of Appleseeds. The cutest thing about this issue is that they have inserted kids' poems throughout. If your elementary school library subscribes or if your local library subscribes, you can check it out. I have two articles in this issue. You may not be familiar with Appleseeds but you have probably heard of some of the other magazines published by Carus. Cricket and Cobblestone are both Carus publications.

The first article is called "Poetry is All Around You" and the second is called "Slam that Poem." The first one is self-explanatory but the second one is about my friend, Joaquin Zihuatenejo, who is quickly becoming the best-known slam poet in the world. The really exciting thing about publishing in children's magazines is that even though the pay is not what a book might bring in, you will be read by thousands of children. And the articles are archived in many databases so for children doing research, I'm an expert on poetry for internet eternity.

I'm pretty pumped. This is a big break-in and I'm happy the artwork and the articles came out so well. This is somewhat ironic since I know one thousand times less about poetry than my better half. But them's the breaks. He has to work really hard for a living and writing articles for children's mags does not bring in the kind of salary he does. So I get to have the fun and he pays the bills.

I'm so happy I might even break into verse myself. (If I do, I definitely won't inflict this upon you.)

What a sap!

So I noticed this morning that the maple tree was dripping. We had it pruned to within one inch of its life and it is now drooling sweet sap from all those cut off branches. This was only mildly interesting until I realized this afternoon that it was also drooling all over the cars. So Michael spent quality time at the car wash on a Sunday getting the ox out of the mire, trying to get the cars back in shape. The yard art Lexus is the biggest problem as we can't move it. He washed it down and put soapy water on it so that the next batch of sap will wash off easier. He'll just have to keep after it, I guess. So I don't know how long the sap runs and how long we'll have syrup-mobiles.

On the positive side, while I was at a church meeting in Scranton on Saturday, Michael spotted a pileated woodpecker in our yard. If you've never seen one, they're huge! Almost as big as a crow. Michael was a little worried that it might want to stay in our yard. This means you have a dead tree. But the woodpecker just passed through. Pretty amazing!

You are not going to believe this!

First of all, the photo is totally random. I don't have a photo of what happened yesterday so you get a freebie of one of my grandkitties, Winston. He lives in Denton and is a real sweetheart. I miss him but miss his master a thousand times more.

So, here's what you are not going to believe that happened yesterday. You'll need a rather long back story first, so bear with me. About a month ago, I am playing a congregational hymn when the organ just cuts out. It actually switches to preset number 4 which has nothing on it. (For non-organist-type folks, presets are buttons that you can use to preselect a group of stops for a particular sound. This saves time. You don't have to push down all the stops manually to get the sound you want.) After the meeting, the organ kicks up again and does the same thing while Michael is watching. I also notice that one of my bass stops isn't working at all. Add to this that I've never really been happy with the organ. Michael has complained from the beginning that he couldn't hear the bass line. MF, my daughter who has visited from Czech, noted also that it was a little quiet. It just hasn't sounded right to me and seemed to have very little power and this was just the capper.

So I call the facilities office in charge of maintaining our buildings and the nice lady sets up an appointment for a repairman to come out.

So finally, for those of you who have persevered, this is the story of yesterday. Bill, the organ repairman, tells me first of all that unless the organ kicks up while he is watching, there is not much he can do. Oh great! It only did this thing on that one day. But he starts taking things apart anyway. I get to see the cool innards of the organ. Firstly, he notices that the bass stop I thought I had lost was completely disconnected. Wow, am I observant! I had never had it at all. So he reconnected it to see what was up. I tried it out and when I got to the lowest notes, this loud vibration and buzzing cranked up. I still wanted him to leave it connected, because the upper notes were okay and it was the best sixteen foot stop I had.

He does some more stuff. He replaces a battery. He tinkers. Then he decides to find out where that vibration in the sixteen foot stop is coming from. I figure the chances are small, small, small. But he asks for a ladder. He'd like to check the speakers. We wander around the building a bit learning that my key opens the front door and front door only and finally I go home and get one. On my return, he starts shinnying up the wall behind the organ (as the ladder is a tad too short) and pops over a ledge to find the speakers. I'm fairly appalled, afraid he will break his neck on my watch.

Once up in the speaker loft, he asks me, "Have they painted the ceiling recently?" Not to my knowledge, and I've been here two years. He then pulls up an enormous piece of thick plastic left by the painters. They had left it over the speaker.  His remark, "I didn't know what I was going to find, but I didn't expect that!" He goes to the other side, shinnies up the other wall and finds the same thing. So I've been playing for two years on an organ that had speakers covered up by thick plastic. No wonder the organ buzzed and sounded weird! I cranked it up and even on the lowest volume setting it sounds brilliant. At the highest setting, I think the neighbors across the street will be able to hear it. And the buzzing bass stop sounds absolutely gorgeous.

End of story? The organ may do that cutting out thing again. We'll just have to wait and see. But I am so happy that I have a brand new organ to play.  I think I will very discreetly start increasing the volume though. I don't want a lot of complaints the very first week.

Happy Holidays!

Which holidays you ask? In the Wilkes-Barre area, it doesn't matter! Any holiday will do!

Perhaps I have already blogged about the fact that folks don't take down their Christmas decorations here. On the way home from my Boy Scout good deed of the week, I decided to see how many holiday decorations I could spot. Let me put this in perspective. Yesterday was March 2nd and a very temperate 45 degrees. Where I grew up in Louisiana, March was the month when you started thinking about which weekend you could start waterskiing.

And up here in Wilkes-Barre land, Christmas was everywhere. Fake poinsettias in gardens, red and green lights strung on porches, Christmas wreaths on doors. However, this does not stop the flow of holiday decorations. First, the obvious St. Patrick's Day ones. There are lots of Irish around here and the Scranton St. Patrick's Day parade is a huge deal. There's a smaller parade here in Wilkes-Barre as well. So I saw lots of sparkly green shamrocks and even a house decorated with orange white and green banners-a political as well as a holiday statement. Then I spotted a house with an Easter wreath complete with colored eggs.

I was on a roll. (Excuse the pun.) Even though it's been a few weeks, I decided to look for Valentine's Day and hit the jackpot. I found a house that had both Christmas and Valentine's Day decorations on it. Then I got distracted. I hadn't been this route for a while and noticed that the huge lake at Frances Slocum park was still completely iced over. I spotted a guy sitting in the middle of the lake in the very temperate weather, ice fishing. 

I thought I had maxed out the decorations but as I was turning down a road that leads to our church building, I spotted it. The prize of the day.  An autumn scarecrow, probably put up before Halloween!

Just minutes from the house, I spotted some red white and blue sparkly decorations on a door post. I know that patriotism knows no season, but maybe they are just getting a jump on the Fourth of July?