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Our New Neighbor

Our New Neighbor

No, Jerry is not moving.
This is our new neighbor at the cabin.

My husband and I have occasional bouts of overdoing it. We did it this weekend with a capital O for ouch. My muscles are very sore and reminding me that at 5’6″ (somewhere over 40. . . ) you can’t do it all. It started with the Minnesota State Fair on Thursday afternoon/night. I’m not going to tell you how many pounds of Fresh French Fries were consumed. Friday we were up at 5:00 and drove up north to FINALLY close on our cabin. Sign the papers, eat in small town cafe with good hash browns and get back on the road. We barely made it home in time to pick up the kids and head to the Target Center in Minneapolis with some friends, to see the Katy Perry show. I’m so tickled to tell you that we ate at Hell’s Kitchen with my pastor. Wink. She called it pure hell. French fried sweet potatoes this time. Much healthier. Then on to the show. I’ve been told Katy Perry doesn’t call it a concert, she calls it a show. I concur. Not the musical highlight of the year, but so fun, and entertaining, and I do think it was totally worth spending our kids’ college fund on the tickets.

Our New Neighbor

Saturday morn? Crack of dawn to clean out the storage unit. Bill and Calvin and I made two trips with the U-haul trailer. We no longer have a storage unit. One small step towards order in the universe. Of course it might be canceled out with the whole cabin thing. . .

There was a piano in the storage unit. Bill and I got the 1906 Kohler and Campbell into the truck, lifting it the 12″ up and over. This is not a spinet. This is an upright grand. Yeah. We bought it from a gal at church for $100 and spent $250 getting it moved to the storage unit back in May. A cabin’s got to have a piano. Hindsight is 20/20 but those pianos movers seem to make really good use of ramps.

Our New Neighbor

We drove the U-haul trailer behind the jeep up to Nisswa. We slept our first night in the cabin. Sunday, getting it off the truck and into the cabin turned out to be even harder, and Two Kotrbas and a Truck probably should have spent another $250 to have real movers on the other end. It actually took about four Kotrbas to budge it, but it was all worth it, to hear the kids sit down and play in the cabin and hear the music ringing out the open windows through the pines. Probably tells you something that we don’t have a boat but we have a piano.

The cabin is old. It was probably built in the 1920’s. This is the first change of owner in a very, very long time and so there has been a lot of hoopla. City. County. DNR. Everybody has something to say. Thank you to Bill’s folks for manning the electric and septic and gas and roofing and plumbing and well-digging contractor appointments. All that stuff had to be up to code before we could close. There were a lot of mysteries to say the least. Bill’s dad loves a good mystery–thanks, Dad K.

So, the cabin adventure begins. Bill spent much of Sunday afternoon rebuilding the toilet. First things first.

At lunch, we met our new neighbor. Sir Eagle gave us quite the show. Bill was able to get his camera while he ate his fish on the dock. The eagle that is.

If you know me, then you know that at the very least, birds are a reminder from God that everything is good. This was a very big bird, so everything must be very good. God bless you Sir Eagle, and God bless our new Little Pines Lodge, and God bless all the cabin mysteries and the future times we will spend there with family and friends.

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A Hole in the Head that Fills the Heart

A Hole in the Head that Fills the Heart

Well. It’s looks like we bought a cabin up north. I’m officially Minnesotan after all these years.
We don’t own it yet, so we didn’t stay there this 4th of July, but this weekend they let us get in and do some preliminary cleaning and planning.

Yes, it’s true, I need a cabin like a hole in the head.
When we got home there were a half a dozen fires to put out regarding bunnies and cats and fountains and deer eating hydrangeas and dripping basement pipes.

A Hole in the Head that Fills the Heart

Bill was under the impression that the dripping basement pipes trumped the hydrangeas. These are the issues of a healthy marriage.

Two more words: laundry and weeds.

I got my stolen from a northern lake water lily into my fountain. Don’t tell the DNR. And I got my first little pine tree transplanted into the yard. It’s important to share garden plants between the cabin and the house. If and when water lilies and little white pines trees take over Eagan, I guess I’ll be in big trouble. Until then it’s good karma–keeps either garden from getting too jealous of my time.

Sometimes a hole in the head can be good. It just might let some light in. My husband is in love with this cabin. I love it too, but seeing him love it is special too.

My sister loves it. My niece loves it. My kids love it. That’s a lot of love.

To the perfectionist, it will be an exercise in letting go. There is no chance or illusion of being in control of house and garden and cabin. I will need a higher power for this. That’s okay, because I have one.

It means there will be cracked sidewalks and cracked paint.
And the deer will eat some hydrangeas.

And the kids will swim in the lake and swing on the swing.
And Bill and his dad will fuss with the ancient electrical system.
And my sister will organize the storage closet.
And one by one each of us will do what we want to do. . .
or not do.

And the light will shine through the cracks and the pines and the rocks.

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Colorado Suzuki Institute Day 2

Colorado Suzuki Institute Day 2

Colorado Suzuki Institute Day 2

Day two we traded kids. Bill went with Calvin to his classes and I went with Mary. I wanted to practice with Mary on the day of her honors recital. She didn’t want to go through Vivace under tempo and she didn’t want to go through the practice routine of the scale work. But she did. And then burst into tears when she saw I had put the assignment from her lesson into the Spinning Song music in aqua colored pencil. Apparently I used the wrong color or something. We recovered from that and finished the practice. Stress leaks out in wacky places.

In the moments before she played, after all the slow practice and all the time we spend the last three months on this piece, when push came to shove, all I wanted was for her to be happy. For her to have a positive experience. For nine years old to be pure. I didn’t care if she rounded the phrase endings or exaggerated the dynamics. I just wanted Mary to be Mary.

And she was.

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Colorado Suzuki Institute Day 1

Colorado Suzuki Institute Day 1

Day One was a success.
No one threw up.
No one broke a wrist ice skating.
Everyone slept good.

The biggest question is. . . how am I supposed to edit my essay on the Suzuki Philosophy with Mark Bjork (father figure of Suzuki violin) announcing to all the parents that they are not to use any iPhone, iPad, or laptop during the children’s classes. Apparently we are supposed to be paying attention. . . or we will be paying fines to the scholarship fund.

The first two days were busy with technical rehearsals for the honors recital for both kids and trying out the piano on the Vilar stage and Mary rehearsing with the string quartet for Wednesday’s recital.

Calvin played last on the Tuesday honors recital. He said it was super fun. He got to play on the same stage as Allison Krauss, one of his favorite musicians.

If you are the grandparent or aunt of Calvin–you will enjoy this link to his performance of Mozart K. 331 third movement on youtube, kept private per CSI policy. Stay posted for more updates on the week.

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The Last Hurrah

The Last Hurrah

The Last Hurrah

The Last Hurrah

We had four parties at our house in the last two weeks and it rained for every single one. But it didn’t matter. We still had a fine time. Last night, Sami’s senior recital, was no exception. It was a full house bring up every chair simulcast into the living room affair.

Sami played Liszt, Chopin, Debussy, Grieg and Beethoven. A wonderful program! She got her picture on the book seven wall of fame. She earned every note.

All the Group C alumni came. Can you believe that? And some older alumni as well. After the party Scott played his Fantasy Impromptu for me–these kids don’t stop playing the piano when they get jobs and move into the real world. That is what it is all about.

From the pictures, you may wonder if being a really good looking kid is a prerequisite to being in the studio. Remember, we don’t screen kids, we only screen parents. . . so there must be some really good looking parents out there. . .

Where does all this beauty come from? It’s not skin deep. It’s real. It comes from within. In Sami’s case, it comes from playing piano for your Grandpa in the memory care nursing home. It comes from being a piano mentor to little Isabella for the summer. It comes from telling each piano honors recital participant something specific that was lovely about his or her performance. It comes from caring about other people more than yourself.

Sami is off to the University of Minnesota to study business. I have no doubt that she will be a fine one, whatever she does. I suggested that she take a piano lesson there and she came back next week and said she signed up.

Like me, Sami has had a few moments of stage fright. Those moments when your brain has left the building and your poor fingers are all alone up on stage. Last night she played to her extended family, her school friends, her boyfriend, the piano kids, studio parents and me. She nailed it and she was there. She stuck it. A great way to end a great thirteen years. That takes a lot of courage and a lot of poise.

Sami’s dad, Michael, was the practicing parent. There he was with all the piano moms at all the dessert parties, putting his two cents in. Because he loves music and he wanted that for his daughter. Sami didn’t always love the music–I was told last night that after book two she wanted to quit. But there was that one song, what was it–I’ll teach it to everyone–that drew her back. And her father’s love. Of music and her. You see–love is contagious. Every time he recommended a youtube video of some pop/folk/classical artist she rolled her eyes. . . but then. . . eventually the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Love is contagious. When she got to play Jim Croce’s “Photographs and Memories” on the big piano with the spotlight on her beautiful face at Eagan High’s stage show with the chamber choir–Michael played all the Jim Croce videos for her.

Sami’s mother? Always there behind the scenes making chex mix and wiping her teary eyes! Incredulous that she could have raised two wonderful children and now they are flying away. I think I shall have some little packs of tissues printed up with the Kotrba Piano Studio logo to place on all the chairs of these darn recitals.

Tears of joy. But tender because we love our kids and we will miss them when they fly away.

I know you have already heard it. . . but I’m gonna miss that girl. Rock steady she was–sports, music, academics–family. A beautiful girl with a beautiful heart. I love you Sami.

Susan and Michael–be proud–enjoy the party tonight. Cry all you want. You did good. I’m so glad I was there for the journey.