Just Enough Merry and Bright
Well, here’s to happy endings. We had a lovely, lovely recital and Christmas party. Every child was well and everyone stayed for the party. Two of the children played Christmas songs accompanied by their grandfather. Hannah accompanied three of her younger siblings. Everyone played one Suzuki piece and one Christmas piece. I loved every minute of it. Mary pulled a Spiritoso out of a hat.
Then. . . three performances of the choral service at church. This year I mostly served as rehearsal pianist–the orchestra had the main focus. I got to play one jazzy song which was fun, and small accompaniments on a few others. Calvin played percussion on two pieces. Bill was not invited back to play second clarinet this year. . . hmmmm.
After the services on Sunday, we four Kotrbas went out for brunch. We got home around 2:00 and I sat down on the sofa and was going to look at some recipes. When I woke up it was dark. That from me, the non-napper. Apparently the excess caffeine from Saturday had completely worn off. . .
Since then we’ve been on the Christmas train. The tea Monday night–Calvin played background Christmas piano music for an hour and a half and sold 23 CDs for FMSC. I bought a cake this year. The cake was very good. Monday night was also the dance program. Cue the Daddy/Daughter/date. Tuesday night was the multi-school jazz ensemble concert (three or maybe more separate arrangements of Winter Wonderland, I lost count) and tonight the kids get to go to a musical at the Ordway Theatre with their Auntie Ann and company. Tomorrow my mom comes and the festivities actually begin.
When my mom gets here I wanted to have the house clean with candles lit and a roast beast in the oven. I hoped to have all my presents wrapped and Mary’s hair in rag curlers. I dreamed the house would sparkle. Freshly fallen snow.
Instead we are managing clean socks for everyone and deli meat with rinsed grapes. The lights are out on the Christmas decorations and Calvin doesn’t have time to fix them. There is a heap of laundry and I still have shopping to do–let alone wrapping. I haven’t seen the kitchen counter since the recital. Bill is stuck in California due to flight delays. (Husbands who travel the week before Christmas lose brownie points–hence the passive aggressive second clarinet joke to get back at him.)
But, my mother is coming to my home, and I know that is a gift that not everyone will get this year. So, amidst the hectic week, I’m grateful.
I’m grateful for my family. For my sister and my niece who will be spending the first Christmas without Paul. For Bill’s family and our traditions. I’m grateful for friends–oh dear friends, I do love you all.
I’m grateful for cats who pee in the box and a bunny who stays alive.
I’m grateful for my home–and the Christmas chaos it holds. Mary is starting a new project every 30 seconds–origami everything with modeling clay and a sewing machine thrown in. Wrapping paper and ribbons, powdered sugar on the floor. Presents stashed in every conceivable cranny. Some of the deli meat is actually some pretty good roast beast. There is just enough snow to cover the muck. Just enough sparkle to get us through.
So, you should be proud of me, though we are hanging on by a Christmas thread and the same six Christmas CDs have been on my stereo for three weeks. . . .I’m right here right now.
Merry Christmas to you all–even if your Christmas isn’t white, and even if it isn’t what you dreamed or hoped or even wanted. . . may you be where you are meant to be, right here, right now, with just enough merry and bright.
Friends in Training
Ten-years-old is a good time to have a first slumber party.
Mary could only invite five girls. Seemed like 500 anyway. . .
They came home from school wild! Screaming actually. I glanced at the bottle of cabernet on the counter but alas. . . this was Mary’s party.
We started with snack. Fruit, salami and cheese on shish kabobs. Yum. A big success. There were no vegetarians here, five girls inhaled two pounds of salami. One sweet friend went to refill her lemonade and upon opening the freezer exclaimed, “You all must be rich! Look at all that ice!” Yes, Bill and I invested in a faucet early in our marriage and it’s really paid off. Now we have ice cubes enough to share with everybody. Never a warm drink around here.
On to Color Me Mine. . . the girls all calmed down and settled into painting. Bill’s sister helped me play chauffeur and keep everyone’s colors from running. Well, almost everyone.
Home for a scavenger hunt–initiated by Calvin. He wrote all the clues in poetic form and hid all the treats. The girls were getting quite a thrill out of teasing him by singing the “Black Socks” song. What else are big brothers for? Tease all you want, Mary, but this is the boy you have to live with for the next five years.
Chicken and cupcakes and ice cream–then on to the sewing project. I glanced at the wine again–but instead commenced to threading six needles. And sewing 12 french knots for eyes. . . and six fluffy tails.
There were some minor frustrations along the way. As one sweet little angel in the form of a nine-year-old girl’s needle came loose for the ninth time–while sewing around her little sweet little blue fleece bunny–she exclaimed loudly in her little nine-year-old voice, “This really sucks the big balls.”
I do not look up from the tenth french knot. Bill does not look up from washing dishes at the sink. We do not meet eyes under any circumstances. The other girls are unfazed. Well duh. She must have meant playground balls. I say nothing. Please pass the scissors. Mary reached over and threaded the angel’s needle.
There was the whole nightlight versus no night light and fan versus no fan shakedown. I set up zones and the girls settled in their sleeping bags according to their sleep needs. . . never mind my sleep needs.
There was talk of who likes who. There was talk about how chocolate makes you fat. I had hoped to postpone the whole fat skinny thing a few more years–maybe for forever, but, if you really want to go there girls. . . let’s talk about the salami first. I say nothing. That’s another blog. . .
Along with the superficial hoopla there was also some serious talk. My grandma has cancer. My grandpa had that same cancer. My grandpa had cancer too. No drama–just the facts and please pass the yellow paint. . .
Highs, lows, chocolate cupcakes, crushes, fat, skinny, a little profanity, a little help threading each other’s needles, sharing sad news, a few little white lies (your horse actually looks good with that black blob of paint), and a little tolerance for the sake of everyone being able to sleep. . .
Friends in training. I’d say they are off to a good start.
Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing
Palliative. When my dad was fighting pancreatic cancer it took me a little while to figure out why we got the big cosy room at the end of the hall with the lovely sofa at the University of Iowa Hospitals. The nurses gently educated us about a new word. Palliative. Dim lights, music. Family. Peace. Angels in the corners.
During that time, I listened to this hymn over and over. Chris Rice’s “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” Click it to hear the Youtube music. It’s so simple and beautiful. Kris gave me that recording.
So, now, my friend is hearing this word about her Mother, Karen, in the pink and black suit. In the photo she’s watching her grandchildren release butterflies as a symbol of resurrection on Easter Sunday, 2011.
Kris loves butterflies–so this is about the best I can offer today.
We remember every spoken word. Every laugh. Every hug and kiss. Every I love you. And somehow in that way that passes our understanding–these times are blessed and etched into eternity.
Collaborative Thoughts
It’s Mary’s first formal ballet class. I had to learn to get a yard of hair into a solid bun. I hope she loves it. The dancing not the hair. I’m pointing my toes vicariously through her. I accompanied ballet classes in college and even traded out some piano playing for a few lessons. It didn’t really work–I needed Suzuki Ballet.
I have had three weeks off–planning next year and puttering in the garden. Next week the real deal starts. The routine. Calvin got his lower braces on last night and his eyes dilated at the eye exam afterwards–I might have overdone the whole efficient Mama thing but the offices are on the same side of town. . .
Here is some cool stuff–I’m all about collaboration right now. Our Suzuki Piano Teachers’ Guild has at least three awesome clinicians coming to work with us and our kids–Irina Elkina, Paul Wirth and Kathryn Ananda-Owens. Thanks Suzanne for linking us with these inspirational pianists! It’s going to be a great year.
The next thing–I am starting a blind four year old this Fall and I am super excited–as I am for all the adorable little ones. But, I do want help. I had a lovely phone conference with Debra Hernstrom from Iowa City at the Pruecil School. She is an expert in Braille music and resources. Thanks also J.B. for your insight earlier this summer! The child is planning to go to Deerwood Elementary–so that is another cool possible collaboration–as I’m in love with Mrs. Schoen and all the music and teachers there. Admittedly biased toward the wonderful Deerwood Elementary.
Another new student–equally as adorable at three–has string player parents. Suzuki strings. We are all excited about studio collaborations and chamber music. Our next concerto/chamber music event is May 30, 2015 at Easter Church. Admittedly biased toward Easter Church. And three year olds.
Finally–I had a great text chat today with my friend Chris Liccardo from New York. He’s a sought after Suzuki clinician and both his children have taken the musical road. His son is a concert pianist and his daughter a concert violinist. Surprise, surprise, they love chamber music and have done some workshops. As president elect of the Suzuki Association of Minnesota, I would love to plan a chamber music focussed tenure–I really hope the group will be open to bringing in some folks like this and bringing the pianists and strings and guitars, harps and recorders for that matter–together. Piano is a lonely business.
We have a great Suzuki community. Everyone we meet has something to share. Having never picked up a violin, I’m super unqualified to take the helm of the S.A.M. come Fall 2015. But–I know a lot of people and I’m getting to know more S.A.M. members everyday. My goal is simply to be a conduit between these teachers and students and the folks here in the Twin Cities as well as from around the country, who have already achieved inspirational excellence.
So–if you have ideas about chamber music and collaboration, please let me know. My friend Vickie has a high end chamber music series in little Blanco, TX–there are so many good ideas out there. We will start planning now for the next two years.
Mary’s taking dance with two of her best friends–she will be in good company. Everything, including playing music, is more fun with friends. Here’s to the upcoming collaborations.