Which is a miracle! (I'll explain later)
We had a wonderful visit, the best we ever had. M. did not work too late on Friday so we were able to leave that night and arrived at the farm about 11ish pm their time. They were not expecting us til Saturday, so every possible sleeping place(except the living room) had been occupied. I would have been fine in the living room, and really wanted the kids to sleep there with us, too, rather then being stuffed in the small office with the rest of the kids. ILs were really nice and decided to switch with us and let us sleep in their bedroom while they slept in the living room. It worked out really well (we sleep later than everyone else, and that way people could use the kitchen and living room early in the morning) though I wasn't comfortable kicking two older people out of their bedroom. It had been decided before we arrived though, and we didn't really have a choice other then to start arguing in the middle of the night. We were asked to let the boys sleep with their cousin in the office the next day which I politely declined. Kids are not an inconvenience to me personally, in fact I prefer to have them close, and M. is too tired to be bothered by them.
The children had so much fun! They pretty much played outside all day Saturday, exploring the farm and getting dirt and ticks all over themselves (the boys ended up getting washed twice). I had a wonderful time visiting with MIL and SIL, and did not feel excluded like before. We even played a little together (BIL brought his guitar and SIL plays piano, though it really needs tuned). SIL told us they were expecting #4 (yay! their youngest was wearing a shirt saying 'I have a secret...I am a BIG sister!' but I decided not to ask unless they say something just to be sure. After all, they had told us before that they were done with kids and I did have an uncomfortable moment at church when I asked a new couple when they were expecting their #2 (she looked about 6 months along) and she told me they were not pregnant.)
So, Sunday morning rolls around and we are all ready to go to church. Except our van. It decided to quit on us. On the only trip when M. forgot his tools at home! He is pretty awesome, can fix ANYTHING with a motor and most anything that doesn't have a motor. Apparently two of the six coils decided they were done (quite unusual, M. says) He decided to go to church anyway on a chance that it will snap out of it (yeh, right, like that ever happens!). By the time we got to church (which was only about 15 min. away) the car was smoking.
M. was really stressed. He had to be back to RC on Sunday night to go to work early Monday morning and it was Sunday afternoon. Even if he was right about the coils (there were other possibilities), where would we find two new ones on a Sunday afternoon and how is M. going to fix the car without the tools?
Well, he is pretty amazing, like I said. A few phone calls, a trip to SF and some fighting with the car without tools later he announced that I better be packed because 'she is purrin' like a kitty'.
So, we were back home very late Sunday night. M. said that it must be my fault that the car broke, electronic things just happen to break around me (my phone quit a few days earlier for no obvious reason). Aren't these things always the wife's fault? LOL
I guess, I am lucky to be married to a guy who can fix them.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
7 Quick Takes
1. My flute playing friend came over with her girls last night for a play date. The kids had such a wonderful time! And so did the mommies. We never actually cracked the cases open or played a note but oh, what a joy it was to visit!
2. Since the actual practice never took place I am going through withdrawal. I need to pack for our trip, but can't stop thinking of the flute. I just want to get it out of the case, to hold it, to play just one exercise, or a couple of scales, my hands are shaking (no, you don't have to put me in an institution, I do not mean it literally :). It's more addictive, than coffee :). Which brings me to #...
3. Our McDonalds on Mt.Rushmore has THE BEST coffee in town! It's better then Starbucks (disclaimer: hot raspberry chocolate mocha from Caribou still holds first place in my heart) I go there so often, that the ladies all know me and my large five cream one sugar :) I also got kids donuts in anticipation of the trip. M. and I are not big on donuts, so our kids don't have them...like, ever. They were sooo excited. Daniel picked chocolate (and later discovered bonus - bavarian cream inside!) Rachael picked sprinkles (and is currently eating it veeeery slowly, one sprinkle at a time) and Jadin got long john with chocolate and sprinkles.
4. Speaking of the trip. M's sister is visiting from AL, so we are going to grandparents' place (were they are staying) tonight. I am dreading it. Grandma is all for healthy eating (hence the donuts for the kids, they don't like healthy food so they end up starving the whole time) and when they built their new house they didn't plan on kids or grand kids to ever come visit, because there's only one tiny guest room (that will be occupied by sister). All six of our kids will go into tiny (and I mean TINY, it's only slightly bigger then our TINY bathroom)office and M and I will sleep on the living room floor (they have a huge glass door and a big window there and no shades. The sun comes up at 4:30 am. Oh, joy!)
5. Hmmm, this turned into a complaining session. I really do need at least half an hour with the flute! (I swear, if Daniel says 'Why are we not packing yet' one more time I am going to loose it).
6. Rachael put on her sandals all by herself! They even went on the right feet! I am sure it was a coincidence, but I am still so proud of my little girl! The caregivers at the YMCA do find her independence a little annoying, though. She refuses help in the bathroom, or with her food, and she fends for herself should an older kid decide to take away a toy she is playing with. She is such a cute tiny peanut, everyone wants to help her or hold her or play with her and she will have none of that. Too much mommy in that little girl.
7. Jadin and Daniel are doing pretty well with their summer school. Daniel loves to read and hates to write letters (he is a leftie! I can't believe I am a mom to a leftie, my own left hand is absolutely worthless) and writing is a bit challenging. Jadin doesn't mind math and writing (we have a special program that his school recommended) and absolutely hates reading.
Happy Friday, friends!
2. Since the actual practice never took place I am going through withdrawal. I need to pack for our trip, but can't stop thinking of the flute. I just want to get it out of the case, to hold it, to play just one exercise, or a couple of scales, my hands are shaking (no, you don't have to put me in an institution, I do not mean it literally :). It's more addictive, than coffee :). Which brings me to #...
3. Our McDonalds on Mt.Rushmore has THE BEST coffee in town! It's better then Starbucks (disclaimer: hot raspberry chocolate mocha from Caribou still holds first place in my heart) I go there so often, that the ladies all know me and my large five cream one sugar :) I also got kids donuts in anticipation of the trip. M. and I are not big on donuts, so our kids don't have them...like, ever. They were sooo excited. Daniel picked chocolate (and later discovered bonus - bavarian cream inside!) Rachael picked sprinkles (and is currently eating it veeeery slowly, one sprinkle at a time) and Jadin got long john with chocolate and sprinkles.
4. Speaking of the trip. M's sister is visiting from AL, so we are going to grandparents' place (were they are staying) tonight. I am dreading it. Grandma is all for healthy eating (hence the donuts for the kids, they don't like healthy food so they end up starving the whole time) and when they built their new house they didn't plan on kids or grand kids to ever come visit, because there's only one tiny guest room (that will be occupied by sister). All six of our kids will go into tiny (and I mean TINY, it's only slightly bigger then our TINY bathroom)office and M and I will sleep on the living room floor (they have a huge glass door and a big window there and no shades. The sun comes up at 4:30 am. Oh, joy!)
5. Hmmm, this turned into a complaining session. I really do need at least half an hour with the flute! (I swear, if Daniel says 'Why are we not packing yet' one more time I am going to loose it).
6. Rachael put on her sandals all by herself! They even went on the right feet! I am sure it was a coincidence, but I am still so proud of my little girl! The caregivers at the YMCA do find her independence a little annoying, though. She refuses help in the bathroom, or with her food, and she fends for herself should an older kid decide to take away a toy she is playing with. She is such a cute tiny peanut, everyone wants to help her or hold her or play with her and she will have none of that. Too much mommy in that little girl.
7. Jadin and Daniel are doing pretty well with their summer school. Daniel loves to read and hates to write letters (he is a leftie! I can't believe I am a mom to a leftie, my own left hand is absolutely worthless) and writing is a bit challenging. Jadin doesn't mind math and writing (we have a special program that his school recommended) and absolutely hates reading.
Happy Friday, friends!
Monday, June 20, 2011
It Was Good While It Lasted
I don't like to be yelled at. Especially for no obvious reason.
When we first meet someone who immigrated as an adult the differences really aren't obvious to the eye, especially when that person looks exactly like us (as in being a white Caucasian as opposed to looking Asian or black) and speaks our language quite well. I remember when I was first in a similar situation in Ukraine being around someone who looked like me and was learning the language (and doing very well) and how difficult it was to remember that though that person looks like me, the culture he grew up in made him very different. Now, that difference would have been easier to keep in mind if he was a green person with three hands and tentacles for hair. I would not have viewed some things as offensive if he LOOKED different because that difference in looks would have been an ever present reminder of the cultural differences that were not visible to the eye.
Having moved here from a culture that is much more direct and much less sensitive, I have to always keep in mind these little things that can offend people, like standing too close to people when I talk to them, or trying not to be too direct when expressing my views and ideas as I would have otherwise been. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail but I would say it's getting easier with each year. It's a learning experience.
What happened recently however is probably the first HUGE fail in that department. It resulted in me making a decision of not being a part of the trio any more.
Let me explain.
One of the ladies I played with have been doing it all her life. The other have been taking lessons for about three and a half years. When I joined I was taking lessons for less then five months, though I do have non flute related background in music. So, when we were getting ready for a recital, I did not think twice about asking what we were doing about dynamics. After all, everyone in the group is an experienced player and a question like that shouldn't cause confusuion or touble. Were we paying attention to them? Were we ignoring them? What did everybody think? (and this IS exactly how I worded it - remember, I know not to be too direct to avoid being perceived as critical) So, imagine my surprise when the lady who has been playing all her life (let's call her Amber, I do not want to use her real name) looses her temper and throws the worst screaming temper tantrum I have ever seen an adult throw! She yells at the top of her lungs that I am new to the group and have no reason to call her a bad flutist.
After picking up my jaw from the floor where it had landed when this whole thing started, my brain was frantically going through the evening trying to find the point in time when I said or implied she was a bad player. Yes, she was having a hard time getting lost all evening and when I noticed that she didn't have the full score and was playing from a sheet that only had her part, I said 'Oh, poor Amber! No wonder you are having a hard time! You can't see where we all are. Let me run and make you a copy of my full score, it will make it so much easier!' To which she replied that she couldn't follow the score without getting lost. Huh? Remember, she's been playing for 30 years and this was not new music to her, she had already performed this.
Ok, she doesn't want the score, that's fine. But how is offering to make her a copy of full score in any way offensive? Or, why is asking what we were doing about dynamics calling ANYONE a bad flutist??? I guess, I am really so insensitive it doesn't even register, because I STILL DON"T UNDERSTAND!
I went and cried in the bathroom (mostly out of shock and desperation) and she apologized. After we left, the other flutist (I'll call her Katie) called me and said she was totally shocked and though it did happen to her as well, it was not nearly as bad. It must be the stress. Amber must be feeling a little threatened by my abilities (what abilities???? I have been playing for 4.5 months!) Let's hope it will not happen again.
Ok, I am not resentful, we all have our moments, let's forget this whole thing. Well, last Thursday about an hour after we were done practicing, I had a brilliant (or so I thought) idea. Why don't we ask our flute teacher to come in and give us a few lessons on how to play together as a group. How do we balance the sound? Who is supposed to do what to make three different parts sound like one piece of music instead of playing three solos. So I call both Katie and Amber and leave an identical messages on their machine saying 'Hey, what do you guys think about paying our teacher to come and work with us for the month of July to help as learn to play as a group?' Katie called me back and left a message on my machine telling me how absolutely awesome an idea it is and how she wished she had thought of it before. YAY! Amber never calls me back, so I call her the next day to see if it's a 'yes' or a 'no'. She picks up the phone and begins with 'How can you insult me like that' followed by another 30 min long screaming fit.
Needless to say, it's over for me. Yes, she called and apologized and asked me to please not leave the group. I feel really bad about leaving, but I can not stay. I do not like to be yelled at for what seems like no reason. Amber told me she tried very hard to please me by making copies of the full scores of the new music (which does not make any sense to me, why would I care what SHE is playing from?) She said she didn't like that I came and started changing the way they did things (she was talking about me pointing out the the publisher missed the last note of the previous measure being the pickup note when marking the intros on a few songs to which everyone agreed, it was really really obvious).
We are just really different and should not play together. Katie and I (and our church pianist, she played with the two of us once and really wanted to keep doing it) will continue playing together. Amber told me that she and Katie will keep playing together as well (sounds great! I also told her I will ask my teacher if she can find someone else for them)
Too bad it didn't work out.
When we first meet someone who immigrated as an adult the differences really aren't obvious to the eye, especially when that person looks exactly like us (as in being a white Caucasian as opposed to looking Asian or black) and speaks our language quite well. I remember when I was first in a similar situation in Ukraine being around someone who looked like me and was learning the language (and doing very well) and how difficult it was to remember that though that person looks like me, the culture he grew up in made him very different. Now, that difference would have been easier to keep in mind if he was a green person with three hands and tentacles for hair. I would not have viewed some things as offensive if he LOOKED different because that difference in looks would have been an ever present reminder of the cultural differences that were not visible to the eye.
Having moved here from a culture that is much more direct and much less sensitive, I have to always keep in mind these little things that can offend people, like standing too close to people when I talk to them, or trying not to be too direct when expressing my views and ideas as I would have otherwise been. Sometimes I succeed and sometimes I fail but I would say it's getting easier with each year. It's a learning experience.
What happened recently however is probably the first HUGE fail in that department. It resulted in me making a decision of not being a part of the trio any more.
Let me explain.
One of the ladies I played with have been doing it all her life. The other have been taking lessons for about three and a half years. When I joined I was taking lessons for less then five months, though I do have non flute related background in music. So, when we were getting ready for a recital, I did not think twice about asking what we were doing about dynamics. After all, everyone in the group is an experienced player and a question like that shouldn't cause confusuion or touble. Were we paying attention to them? Were we ignoring them? What did everybody think? (and this IS exactly how I worded it - remember, I know not to be too direct to avoid being perceived as critical) So, imagine my surprise when the lady who has been playing all her life (let's call her Amber, I do not want to use her real name) looses her temper and throws the worst screaming temper tantrum I have ever seen an adult throw! She yells at the top of her lungs that I am new to the group and have no reason to call her a bad flutist.
After picking up my jaw from the floor where it had landed when this whole thing started, my brain was frantically going through the evening trying to find the point in time when I said or implied she was a bad player. Yes, she was having a hard time getting lost all evening and when I noticed that she didn't have the full score and was playing from a sheet that only had her part, I said 'Oh, poor Amber! No wonder you are having a hard time! You can't see where we all are. Let me run and make you a copy of my full score, it will make it so much easier!' To which she replied that she couldn't follow the score without getting lost. Huh? Remember, she's been playing for 30 years and this was not new music to her, she had already performed this.
Ok, she doesn't want the score, that's fine. But how is offering to make her a copy of full score in any way offensive? Or, why is asking what we were doing about dynamics calling ANYONE a bad flutist??? I guess, I am really so insensitive it doesn't even register, because I STILL DON"T UNDERSTAND!
I went and cried in the bathroom (mostly out of shock and desperation) and she apologized. After we left, the other flutist (I'll call her Katie) called me and said she was totally shocked and though it did happen to her as well, it was not nearly as bad. It must be the stress. Amber must be feeling a little threatened by my abilities (what abilities???? I have been playing for 4.5 months!) Let's hope it will not happen again.
Ok, I am not resentful, we all have our moments, let's forget this whole thing. Well, last Thursday about an hour after we were done practicing, I had a brilliant (or so I thought) idea. Why don't we ask our flute teacher to come in and give us a few lessons on how to play together as a group. How do we balance the sound? Who is supposed to do what to make three different parts sound like one piece of music instead of playing three solos. So I call both Katie and Amber and leave an identical messages on their machine saying 'Hey, what do you guys think about paying our teacher to come and work with us for the month of July to help as learn to play as a group?' Katie called me back and left a message on my machine telling me how absolutely awesome an idea it is and how she wished she had thought of it before. YAY! Amber never calls me back, so I call her the next day to see if it's a 'yes' or a 'no'. She picks up the phone and begins with 'How can you insult me like that' followed by another 30 min long screaming fit.
Needless to say, it's over for me. Yes, she called and apologized and asked me to please not leave the group. I feel really bad about leaving, but I can not stay. I do not like to be yelled at for what seems like no reason. Amber told me she tried very hard to please me by making copies of the full scores of the new music (which does not make any sense to me, why would I care what SHE is playing from?) She said she didn't like that I came and started changing the way they did things (she was talking about me pointing out the the publisher missed the last note of the previous measure being the pickup note when marking the intros on a few songs to which everyone agreed, it was really really obvious).
We are just really different and should not play together. Katie and I (and our church pianist, she played with the two of us once and really wanted to keep doing it) will continue playing together. Amber told me that she and Katie will keep playing together as well (sounds great! I also told her I will ask my teacher if she can find someone else for them)
Too bad it didn't work out.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Food Stamps and Friday Morning.
I usually try avoiding W.allmart twice a month on Fridays when government issues food stamps. Not only is it that the shelves are bare (it looks a bit like a tornado warning has been issued and the whole town went grocery shopping for food that should last them a month) and the lines are loooong, but also because the concept of food stamps reminds me of that first year after the Soviet Union collapsed. With the state went the money and for the longest time the government would issue these sheets and sheets of 'money' to take to the grocery store. You literally had to have three-four sheets of these to get a loaf of bread. Also, since food was in very short supply, you could only get it in limited quantities per family. Like, two lb. of sugar at a time (an you never knew when the next time the store will have sugar is going to be) Needless to say, these are not my favorite memories.
Well a couple of weeks ago on Friday I had to go to Wa.llmart regardless of how I felt about it. We ran out of dog food (poor Lucy!) and diapers (Rachael went back to sleeping in pull-ups a few months ago, which I prefer to her waking up every two hours to go pee anyway).
So, to Wal.lmart I go, three kids in tow. It wasn't a very productive trip, because of the bare shelves and three hyper kids. I picked up the diapers and was on my way to get dog food (which is on the opposite side of the store) when I noticed this guy turning frequently and just staring at the boys. He freaked me out a bit. I am used to women commenting on the kids all the time (they ARE cute kids, if I say so myself). But it's always a quick comment, no one ever just kept turning around and staring like that before. I decided to just ignore the guy, get my dog food and get out.
I go to check out, pick the shortest (two mile long) line and park everyone there. The kids went to check out the toys by the register and needed my 'help' being nice to each other. And that is why I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. BIG mistake! Because right in front of us was that guy that stared at the boys earlier. By the time I noticed he was trying to start a conversation with me asking all sorts of questions about the boys (he was not at all interested in Rachael, which is weired in and of itself, because she is the youngest and ALWAYS insists on wearing pretty dresses and pigtails when we go out, so she is usually the one getting all the comments). Now, I usually try to be polite with people, smile at them and talk to them (M. just grunts and turns away which discourages conversation). But I had no idea what to do with the guy. He wanted to know everything from age to where they go to school, to what they like to eat. Am I the only one who thinks it's inappropriate? He was also trying to keep his voice down so I had to ask him to repeat the questions over again. I had it with him when he asked where I lived and since I was obviously avoiding answering that question (just like the rest of his questions) he started naming the streets and asking me if I lived there. SERIOUSLY???? At that point Rachael said she needed to go potty, I sighed the sigh of relief and we all went to a different register.
NEVER.GO.TO.WALLMART.ON.FOOD.STAMPS.DAY.
Please, don't think that I put every one who needs food stamps in the 'creepy' category. Many of the families using them are truly in a difficult spot and are trying their very hardest to get off of them. I know that. But then there's creepy individuals, and for some reason I tend to run into that kind of people.
Also, I NEED.TO.LEARN.TO.GRUNT.AND.TURN.AWAY.to discourage that type of conversation.
Well a couple of weeks ago on Friday I had to go to Wa.llmart regardless of how I felt about it. We ran out of dog food (poor Lucy!) and diapers (Rachael went back to sleeping in pull-ups a few months ago, which I prefer to her waking up every two hours to go pee anyway).
So, to Wal.lmart I go, three kids in tow. It wasn't a very productive trip, because of the bare shelves and three hyper kids. I picked up the diapers and was on my way to get dog food (which is on the opposite side of the store) when I noticed this guy turning frequently and just staring at the boys. He freaked me out a bit. I am used to women commenting on the kids all the time (they ARE cute kids, if I say so myself). But it's always a quick comment, no one ever just kept turning around and staring like that before. I decided to just ignore the guy, get my dog food and get out.
I go to check out, pick the shortest (two mile long) line and park everyone there. The kids went to check out the toys by the register and needed my 'help' being nice to each other. And that is why I didn't pay attention to my surroundings. BIG mistake! Because right in front of us was that guy that stared at the boys earlier. By the time I noticed he was trying to start a conversation with me asking all sorts of questions about the boys (he was not at all interested in Rachael, which is weired in and of itself, because she is the youngest and ALWAYS insists on wearing pretty dresses and pigtails when we go out, so she is usually the one getting all the comments). Now, I usually try to be polite with people, smile at them and talk to them (M. just grunts and turns away which discourages conversation). But I had no idea what to do with the guy. He wanted to know everything from age to where they go to school, to what they like to eat. Am I the only one who thinks it's inappropriate? He was also trying to keep his voice down so I had to ask him to repeat the questions over again. I had it with him when he asked where I lived and since I was obviously avoiding answering that question (just like the rest of his questions) he started naming the streets and asking me if I lived there. SERIOUSLY???? At that point Rachael said she needed to go potty, I sighed the sigh of relief and we all went to a different register.
NEVER.GO.TO.WALLMART.ON.FOOD.STAMPS.DAY.
Please, don't think that I put every one who needs food stamps in the 'creepy' category. Many of the families using them are truly in a difficult spot and are trying their very hardest to get off of them. I know that. But then there's creepy individuals, and for some reason I tend to run into that kind of people.
Also, I NEED.TO.LEARN.TO.GRUNT.AND.TURN.AWAY.to discourage that type of conversation.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Why Do These God Moments Never Happen To Me?
I was talking to a friend of mine and a fellow flute player about something that happened to me recently and that's what she said. Let me give you the whole story, though.
I do my own flute research in addition to the lessons because, well, let's face it, I am a bit slow. Sometimes I need more than one person to explain things to me. Someone who can word it differently, and then it clicks.
So I stumbled over a teaching video for a particular piece of music that calls for a lot of articulated middle Es. If you ever played the flute, you know that middle Es tend to be flat. Just a flute thing. So this particular flutist was talking about venting her Es just a a little bit when she practices because that raises the pitch and once your ear is used to hearing that non-flat E, you tend to be more mindful of your pitch when you perform and don't vent it. Obviously, she has an open hole flute, you can't vent your Es if yours is closed holes (like mine)
I have to admit, I was listening to her and really wishing maybe for the first time, to have an open hole flute. So that if I do want to vent, I can.
So, last Tuesday while working my normal shift at the YMCA I mentioned that this new flute exercise hurt my tongue and I was having a hard time talking (you think I was overstating? Try putting a chopstick in your mouth and curling your tongue over it and playing like that. OUCH! It hurts to even think about that. I'll give it a week and try again ;) And one of the ladies I work with says 'Do you play flute?' (and there I thought I go on and on about different aspects of flute playing whenever I get a chance. Is it possible I go to this place every week for four hours and never mention something that preoccupies my thoughts at all times?) She goes, 'I played the flute when I was young and my daughter (who I share a birthday with, by the way) played it in high school. She is in college now and I have this great open hole flute at home that no one plays. It's in great shape! Would you like to borrow it? I would love to let you use it!'
ARE YOU KIDDING? Of course, I want to borrow it! I will treat it well, keep it as my performance instrument and make sure all the pads are changed and the thing is oiled!
I am amazed at how God hears even the prayers we don't pray, and gives us things that we don't really need but would like to have. I would never be able to justify buying something like that for myself. I am just really not that good on the flute.
These God moments happen to me all the time. Actually, it's not just me. I am quite positive God doesn't have favourites. After all, He gave his Son for ALL of His chosen children, and isn't it the greatest gift anyone could receive?
I guess, I am just mindful of these other little gifts that God gives me. After all, this flute can turn out to be a piece of junk with holes in the keys, but I am still happy. I am happy because God loves me so much to even think of such a little thing as an open hole flute. That He chooses to manifest Himself to me like that. It makes my heart sing.
No, it's not just me. I am sure other people have these experiences in their life, too. We just need to see them for what they are. God at work.
I do my own flute research in addition to the lessons because, well, let's face it, I am a bit slow. Sometimes I need more than one person to explain things to me. Someone who can word it differently, and then it clicks.
So I stumbled over a teaching video for a particular piece of music that calls for a lot of articulated middle Es. If you ever played the flute, you know that middle Es tend to be flat. Just a flute thing. So this particular flutist was talking about venting her Es just a a little bit when she practices because that raises the pitch and once your ear is used to hearing that non-flat E, you tend to be more mindful of your pitch when you perform and don't vent it. Obviously, she has an open hole flute, you can't vent your Es if yours is closed holes (like mine)
I have to admit, I was listening to her and really wishing maybe for the first time, to have an open hole flute. So that if I do want to vent, I can.
So, last Tuesday while working my normal shift at the YMCA I mentioned that this new flute exercise hurt my tongue and I was having a hard time talking (you think I was overstating? Try putting a chopstick in your mouth and curling your tongue over it and playing like that. OUCH! It hurts to even think about that. I'll give it a week and try again ;) And one of the ladies I work with says 'Do you play flute?' (and there I thought I go on and on about different aspects of flute playing whenever I get a chance. Is it possible I go to this place every week for four hours and never mention something that preoccupies my thoughts at all times?) She goes, 'I played the flute when I was young and my daughter (who I share a birthday with, by the way) played it in high school. She is in college now and I have this great open hole flute at home that no one plays. It's in great shape! Would you like to borrow it? I would love to let you use it!'
ARE YOU KIDDING? Of course, I want to borrow it! I will treat it well, keep it as my performance instrument and make sure all the pads are changed and the thing is oiled!
I am amazed at how God hears even the prayers we don't pray, and gives us things that we don't really need but would like to have. I would never be able to justify buying something like that for myself. I am just really not that good on the flute.
These God moments happen to me all the time. Actually, it's not just me. I am quite positive God doesn't have favourites. After all, He gave his Son for ALL of His chosen children, and isn't it the greatest gift anyone could receive?
I guess, I am just mindful of these other little gifts that God gives me. After all, this flute can turn out to be a piece of junk with holes in the keys, but I am still happy. I am happy because God loves me so much to even think of such a little thing as an open hole flute. That He chooses to manifest Himself to me like that. It makes my heart sing.
No, it's not just me. I am sure other people have these experiences in their life, too. We just need to see them for what they are. God at work.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Friday, June 3, 2011
It All Started With a Dress.
This one, to be exact:
It's absolutely gorgeous! This dress will make ANYONE look like a model.
So, obviously I couldn't wait to wear it and yesterday was definitely the perfect day for it. It was hot! Our first hot day in SD, and believe me, we all enjoyed it. (except for neighbors, did I ever mention that I practice with my door open to be able to watch the kids? HA-ha, poor people.)
It wasn't two minutes after I put it on that Rachael noticed I was wearing a dress. And she (horror of horrors) was wearing pants! Oh, NO! She demanded a pretty dress for herself which was promised to her after a nap and a bath. I told her she could wear it to the nursery.
Ehhh, not good enough. She went to spare bedroom (where I keep her dresses) and picked the one she could reach. Unfortunately the reason she could reach it was because I put it on the bed as a 'too small for her winter dress that needs to be put up in the attic' one.
Did you know that it's absolutely pointless to talk some sense into a 2yo? No matter how hard I was trying to explain it to her she would not have it.
So, some tears a nap and a bath later she still remembered my promise of a pretty dress and also semi-forgot the one she picked out for herself earlier. I say 'semi-forgot' because she made me iron three different dresses and neither of them worked for her. She could remember that those were NOT the ones she picked but not what the one she did pick looked like. Half an hour later we finally settled on the dress. The fanciest summer bishop dress she has, to be exact.
Of course, the second Daniel walked in the room he noticed Rachael was all dressed up. And he wasn't. Nope, not gonna work. So, back to the ironing board I go. This time I am smart, though. I iron a fancy shirt for Jadin, as well.
Another lesson I learned? Do NOT put nice shirts on two young boys until 2 minutes before you are ready to leave. Jadin and Daniel were killing each other, uh, I mean playing in the living room and one of Jadin's old battle scars started bleeding...all over the carpet, the jeans, and, yes, that fancy shirt I just ironed.
He got changed. He screamed because I refused to turn the iron on for the third time to iron yet another fancy shirt.
I will never buy myself a new dress ever again.
But that's why my family looked like we were going to a wedding when we stopped by music store to drop something off and then went to the gym.
It's absolutely gorgeous! This dress will make ANYONE look like a model.
So, obviously I couldn't wait to wear it and yesterday was definitely the perfect day for it. It was hot! Our first hot day in SD, and believe me, we all enjoyed it. (except for neighbors, did I ever mention that I practice with my door open to be able to watch the kids? HA-ha, poor people.)
It wasn't two minutes after I put it on that Rachael noticed I was wearing a dress. And she (horror of horrors) was wearing pants! Oh, NO! She demanded a pretty dress for herself which was promised to her after a nap and a bath. I told her she could wear it to the nursery.
Ehhh, not good enough. She went to spare bedroom (where I keep her dresses) and picked the one she could reach. Unfortunately the reason she could reach it was because I put it on the bed as a 'too small for her winter dress that needs to be put up in the attic' one.
Did you know that it's absolutely pointless to talk some sense into a 2yo? No matter how hard I was trying to explain it to her she would not have it.
So, some tears a nap and a bath later she still remembered my promise of a pretty dress and also semi-forgot the one she picked out for herself earlier. I say 'semi-forgot' because she made me iron three different dresses and neither of them worked for her. She could remember that those were NOT the ones she picked but not what the one she did pick looked like. Half an hour later we finally settled on the dress. The fanciest summer bishop dress she has, to be exact.
Of course, the second Daniel walked in the room he noticed Rachael was all dressed up. And he wasn't. Nope, not gonna work. So, back to the ironing board I go. This time I am smart, though. I iron a fancy shirt for Jadin, as well.
Another lesson I learned? Do NOT put nice shirts on two young boys until 2 minutes before you are ready to leave. Jadin and Daniel were killing each other, uh, I mean playing in the living room and one of Jadin's old battle scars started bleeding...all over the carpet, the jeans, and, yes, that fancy shirt I just ironed.
He got changed. He screamed because I refused to turn the iron on for the third time to iron yet another fancy shirt.
I will never buy myself a new dress ever again.
But that's why my family looked like we were going to a wedding when we stopped by music store to drop something off and then went to the gym.
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