Category Archives: Music

Quite Enough.

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Okay, I don’t know if this should make me horribly embarrassed, but I have {gulp} –okay, I’ll say it– six different blogs that I have put on-line.

I have this one, which is something of my “play” site, and Family News, a combination memory-book and update-letter to family. They were going to encompass all I needed to blog for.

Then I also have Blogger and Xanga accounts for commenting on those sites.

Next, last week, in a moment of bravery, I took the suggestion of my Acoustic Guitar magazine and created a “musician” MySpace page. (I’ll not link there, seeing as it’s still very embryonic, and I’m feeling less-brave this morning).

Finally, just a couple days ago, I signed up at Homeschool Blogger. (Snow Fairy is my “other” screen name– sort of a nod to my storytelling and home at the same time.) Also limited to commenting, now.

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I’ve decided this is just a very unique season: With Elisha nursing so much I have a lot of “mindless” time to spend reading and doing things on the computer. I do expect I’ll be needing to re-train myself when he is done that this much computer-time is not normal…

Setting it in Stone

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(Posted simultaneously at Family News.)

I am officially limiting myself.

I “flipped a coin” (it wasn’t a literal coin, I was driving) and– as I’ve noticed in the past– found while it was in the air what it was I really wanted.

  • Storytelling is on-hold. Maybe for a decade. Lord willing, I will eventually return.
  • Piano is on-hold. I am tired of not moving forward as efficiently as I could in any instrument. I will be enjoying the beautiful Rainsong Jay picked out for me just after Elisha was born.

Jay and I have always known we wanted to homeschool our children, and Natasha is definitely ready and willing to learn new skills. So this conscious limiting is directly tied to the research and preparations I have begun in order to lay the groundwork for her schooling.

It is not so much the schooling that I see as the challenge, but maintaining a smoothly-running household at the same time. I have come across some very nice resources.

Everything is genetic.

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Sure, you can “overcome genetics”: dye your hair, exercise and eat right to counter a history of heart disease… but all that is still being driven– underlined– by genetics.

I stopped by my mom’s office on my way off campus this morning. I had just finished my last piano lesson class. As I was leaving I explained to some classmates I might come back next fall, but not this spring– I was going to take a semester off to shift focus to the guitar for a while.

So I walked up to my mom’s place thinking of how many different things I feel torn between, musically (guitar, piano), “professionally” (storytelling, noveling, children’s books) and home life (cleaning, meal planning, and “pre-school” for the girls). One of the first things she said to me was how dad felt pulled in so many directions by his many interests, and I could only laugh.

Needs

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I watched the first disk of the first season of Monk last week.

Really liked it.

After finishing the last two episodes in one evening, I mentioned to Jay how nice it was to find another good source for my story “fix” that was positive/clean. I think I’m mentally setting this against, say, soap operas. Monk is a sort of modern Sherlock Holms, so it is a detective show.

Then, of course, as soon as I acknowledged my need for Story as a type of dependency I got both nervous and defensive. Nervous because I have to question whether each dependency is healthy, and defensive because I want to argue it isn’t, at least, unhealthy.

It got me thinking about all those needs we have that aren’t physical. Continue reading »

Is “homemaking” enough or isn’t it? (Pt. 2 of 4)

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Jay was having a tough stretch at work, a couple weeks of no progress on an important project. It was a Tuesday evening, and through a (what I believe was a God-ordained) fluke, everything at home was perfect:

Elisha slept all afternoon, so I was able to clean the kitchen; the girls wanted to dress-up and dance (which we all did); and then we had to clear the living room to make room for dancing (to praise music, at their request); then we were all tired at the same time and I started dinner while they played (nicely!) together.

They “helped” me make biscuits while I made soup for dinner, and Jay opened the door right as the timer went off on the biscuits. I was dressed nicely (which Jay always enjoys), worship music was playing, the girls were laughing together, and our home was the peaceful, joyful haven Jay had needed at that exact moment.

It was all so perfect I tried to make it happen again the next couple evenings, but it didn’t, and that just drove home for me that it was a special grace given to us for that needy time.

This is the image I return to when I question if I’m not focused enough on my home: the reality that God gives gifts and abilities where and when they are needed. That he provides for those challenging times. (That evening happened not long after my Grandmother died, and I think God was encouraging me as much as for my husband in helping me create a peaceful home).

Sometimes I wonder if I never read (for just myself) or wrote, whether my house would be maintained at a higher level. The answer has to be yes, if only from a mathematical standpoint, but I have to wonder if the amount of improvement would be worth what I’d have to give up.

So far, I’m thinking, No.

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Side note: I recognize that everyone needs some time to recharge, or there will be nothing to give, but I get prickly when women start getting off on claims (demands) that they deserve this or that. Half the time it seems like I’m hearing, “I want it, therefore I deserve it.”

This is not automatically true.

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For now I think I’m reasonably balanced. My problem, I think, is that the criteria for defining the balance are nonexistent. At least, I haven’t found them yet.

One nice thing about nursing a baby is that I get several automatic slots each day to sit and do my own thing. (Natasha, like many older siblings, started “nursing” her dolls after her little sister was born. Essential to her ritual, copying me, was having a book in front of her on the couch.)

With this baby I write, like now, when nursing. So my way of doing something ‘for me’ doesn’t take away from the kids. If I confine my writing. And I don’t always.

“Seasons” has a good application in this way. There are definitely some types of service that are easier when your children are older. Hmmm, actually, there’s at least one type that’s easier when your kids are younger too.

(More on those next time.)

(Part 3 of 4)

“Held”

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I’m pretty sure this song is well known (for such an un-descriptive title I was interested to find it was the #1 in relevance at iTunes), but, for the sake of this “discussion,” here are the lyrics.

In itself the song makes very little sense. It’s been called a “tearjerker” by at least one reviewer, and, while it’s never made me cry, I can understand how it got the label.

Having just lost my grandmother, I am learning that all those movies that never affected me before might have lacked potency because I had no resonating event.  It is taking less and less to trigger a resonance now.

The lyrics begin as if they are going to tell a story, introducing a tragic event, and some thoughts about the situation. But rather than offer a resolution you hear the chorus:

This is what it means to be held
How it feels when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive.
This is what it is to be loved
And to know that the promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.

This is what? That question is not answered anywhere in the song. It is very dream-like and full of images, but no answers.

I’ve decided I like the song (it intrigued me before, since I only heard it on the radio, and kept wondering if I’d missed some key line, hearing no resolution). And I think it is the sorrowing people who are the “answer” to the This is.

I am exhibit A.

This is what it means …
How it feels… This is what it is to be loved
And to know…

My analyzer-side really likes that chorus. I’ve sat, quietly and alone (during nap-time) and listened to those words, feeling what I’m feeling and musing, So this is how it feels, hmm?.

…The promise was
When everything fell we’d be held.

It’s simple, nothing new or earth-shattering, but still, it resonates.

And that works for me right now.

Better than I thought

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I added it up today, and I guess I do read an hour (or more) to my kids most days. One more thing from my wish-list. Pretty cool.

And (small hallelujah) Jay’s agreed I can start looking for a dog in the spring. Specifically on my birthday. That will give us more time for deciding just what we’re looking for, and praying to find just the right one. And for Elisha to get bigger.

And if I can find an EOW (every-other-week) babysitter for Monday mornings I’ll be able to take a piano class at the U. (One woman has already agreed to do EOW, so I just have to find an alternate.) I figure the pressure of weekly lessons will be good for encouraging more consistent progress; I’ve been treading water.

I was debating between this and voice lessons for a while there, then found I have to be somewhat proficient in piano as a prereq. for voice (I have to be able to teach and drill myself on my own). So that solved that dilemma in a hurry.

“Good” is the enemy of “Best”

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I’ve almost made up my mind not to try out for this season’s FLOT production. I’ve been praying about whether it is appropriate to do this (Sound of Music. Something I know, even!), and keep flopping back and forth.

And then I found this quote; kind-of felt confirmed my reluctance: “We [must] say ‘no’ not only to those things which are wrong and sinful, but to things that are pleasant, profitable, and good which would hinder and clog our grand duties and our chief work.”

It is footnoted, but then the footnote says “Source Unknown,” which I found amusing.

My “grand duties and chief work” right now do not (I believe) include singing for the community at large. I have a much smaller selected audience.

…And maybe if I don’t go, some other young woman will have an opportunity that will mean more to her than it will for me… I like that idea. I’ll pray for her.

Why Story-singer?

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I came up with this name sort-of on the fly, when I was throwing my xanga account together. Then, when I came over here I wondered why I kept it. Well, mainly because it’s what I was already working under, but then I thought about other words for story-singer, and came up with things like “minstrel,” and “troubadour.”And I liked that idea. I don’t actually sing my stories, of course, and I don’t compose any kind of music, but I strongly identify with the idea of making words your work.So now it’s my title, even when I could change it.

Added 8/06:
I changed my name and tagline, to match the domain name and content. It was surprisingly confusing to have two names like that. And I haven’t been as focussed on writing as I’d expected.

My new Guitar

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I haven’t mentioned it here yet, but we bought a new guitar before Elisha was a week old. Jay had been doing this research, before E was born, on a brand called Rainsong, and was totally sold, since the material is supposed to be basically impervious to environmental changes (dryness, cold, etc). The guitar store within walking distance had the exact guitar we wanted (I don’t manage/fit full-bodied guitars well). So we tried it out and less than a week later we were bringing it home.

I’ve been using that new guitar almost daily now (yay for me), getting attached to the sound and used to the feel, but I don’t think I’ll ever like the smell .

One of the first things I fell-in-love with my first (the classical) guitar was the smell. It is a cedar/rosewood instrument, and every time I open the case the smell is so pleasant.

The graphite guitar smells almost petroleum but fortunately that’s just the case– the guitar doesn’t reek just sitting in the open air.

(And *whew* I remembered to check the sponges on the old two today– they were *d*r*y* Guitars still fine though).

I need to actually try to sell them. But I guess I have been justifiably busy…