It’s Autumn Time

Happy Fall to all! As the first day of a new, beautiful season, we shall look back on Summer with contentment as it slowly and gracefully slips away.

The world was indeed green as Summer entered with a few weeks of rain. Wonderful for plants and a bit of cool weather. After seeing my first batch of seniors off into the world, we rejoiced with our children as we celebrated their year of dance with a well-deserved recital. How they have grown and progressed into beautiful, confident dancers!

Our first real week of Summer ended with two glorious days of camping with dear friends where we formed a sort of “Fellowship” along a hiking trail (“What about second breakfasts? Or elevensies?”), chased the camp rats (some variety of chucks), and giggled at Little Sir’s candid comments, my favorite being, “I need a smoke,” as he sat down in front of the fire pit ready with a marshmallow and roasting stick.

After a few days of swimming and fishing, we celebrated this wonderful country of ours with a trip to the family cabin then a trip back home for the traditional parade and family picnic, during which time family members noticed one of us was not as chipper as he usually is. After repeatedly receiving a “fine” while inquiring about his health, they leave it alone, while I wait for said ailing one to let me know what he needs when he needs it. After voluntarily checking himself into the doctor’s, he returns home with us a day later to recuperate, rather quickly I might add, from a non-emergency appendectomy.

In another kind of doctor’s office, one sweetie excitedly began her orthodontic work. While she had a fairly easy procedure, yours truly sat in another chair waiting for a simple re-gluing of an appliance only to discover that said appliance was actually broken. When asked by the assistant how old the thing was, I quickly calculated and chuckled as I related it was as older than my high school diploma. A blank stare and she heads off to the office. The orthodontist comes over and asks me what’s up. He and I both laugh as I tell him they’ve gone to find my file and we imagine them digging through some box in a back room somewhere. It’s successfully retrieved, we get fitted for a new appliance, and both one sweetie and I leave with sore teeth.

A few birthday dinners and lake trips later, der Meister leaves for a week with the scouts while the rest of us journey south to visit family and partake of the local outdoor entertainment. Here in the land of Zion, the girls and I continue our summertime activity: a tour of our local temples. As we wander the grounds together we take photos, admire the flowers, look at the bees, and talk about the individual temples we are visiting: when they were built, which number they were in our state, unique facts about each. These sweet times prepare us for the unique opportunity of attending the dedication of the Oquirrh Mountain Temple together. Personal revelation is alive and well, and can come to you in the temple. What a blessing to have a place where your mind can be clear enough to hear the Lord’s desire for you.

Throughout the Summer, news arrived of new arrivals expected on both sides of our family, as well as for some of our friends. The blessing of babies for many.

Blessings continue as we gather in yet another hospital room for yet another, tinier family member, and watch as two priesthood holders bless a little one for her upcoming surgery and recovery. Said little one, a Bit T relation, has emergency surgery which leaves her one organ short and with a scar as wide as she is. The blessing: she recovered quickly and successfully and with all smiles she proudly shows off her scar.

The girls meet their new school teachers and become excited for the new school year. I successfully, albeit awkwardly, finish a summer tap class in which I became the oldest member (even surpassing the teacher) after our enrollment drops from 10 to 3, and in which I learn that after a certain age and certain events, one’s body does not behave the way it used to no matter how much one wills it. Turns become fewer, movement becomes slower, certain dance steps are not to be performed because, as one fellow dancer said, “I like my teeth.” I learned to appreciate the knowledge of dance teachers who know how to teach adults and adapt the style to them. And my appreciation of teachers who encourage even their adults students (“You’ve got it! You’re doing great!”) continues to increase.

We rejoice in receiving letters and electronic messages from both new and well-seasoned friends as they update us on the events of their lives and continue to make us smile with their lively personalities.

Hiking in the mountains one day, we see red leaves and realize that Autumn is on its way. We wake up one morning to smell that crisp, clean air through the bright blue sky that says Summer has left us and Autumn has arrived. The school bells start ringing, the mountains are brushed with red and gold, and that glorious cool air that reminds you that you’re alive rushes through you.

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun,
. . .
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too —
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue . . .”
from “To Autumn” by John Keats

Happy Equinox to all.

 

Now Airing . . .

Good morning! Welcome, students, teachers, and parents alike, to another fabulous school year!

As a few fellow bloggers have proven themselves to be capable of navigating and enjoying the YouTube channels, I have taken a spin around the dials with der Meister and—Ta da!—we found the most fabulous entertainment available, free of charge, for 10 minutes or less. (Usually less; people have little time to waste and necessities to consider: house to clean, books to read, email to check, blogs to read to get updated on others’ lives, lunch to eat . . . lunch? Oh, yeah! I wondered why we were drowsy, grouchy, and had an odd pang in our stomach.)

So, for your entertainment today, we have the following:
Incredibly cute British kids reenacting Doctor Who and Torchwood. (Fantastic use of the sonic screwdriver by “the Doctor,” and “Jack” has his reincarnating line down, “I’m fine!”) It’s cool that the parents video taped this awesome play time. See! Kids still play pretend in which old ruins are forts or castles, an oversized wrist watch can be Jack’s transporter, and an old phone both can be reimagined to be a very cool TARDIS. Forget the video games.

Here’s another one with the same kids where the Daleks attack. These are fantastic costumes and I think the kids should design their neighborhood’s Halloween costumes from now on.

While we’re on the subject of Doctor Who, check out these fantastic cakes from Cake Wrecks, the site listed in my side bar under “Weird Ones.” On Sundays, under “Sunday Sweets,” she posts photos of gorgeous cakes, often made for the kiddos. Castles, dragons, favorite book characters. This time, she devoted a post to Doctor Who. Amazing. I still think it would be cool to own a TARDIS.

And for all you awesome fellow sci fi/fantasy nerds—uh, I mean, uh, let’s see . . . aficionados (I am an English teacher and synonyms/euphemisms are my friend), here are some photos of Star Wars cakes. At least one of these is a wedding cake. Think about that.

There are two posts for Harry Potter. Love the sorting hat.

Some more fun cakes on reading.

To get back to the YouTube, this post references a cake that tries to induct a new holiday into our lives (what the baker was thinking to create such a phrase nobody yet knows). You have to watch the video (the first two minutes is all you need, really) just to see the reaction of the man at the counter. Think of who you could laugh with while celebrating this fine new holiday.

Speaking of books and odd cakes, all I can say about the pink elephant cake displayed here is . . why? (yes, pink. elephants. Oh, but check it out. It gets better.) Why the theme? Why elephants And why do I imagine Aunt Madam giggling almost uncontrollably as she serves this prize of a cake in the middle of the table to her awaiting guests? And picture Jeeves first staring, then trying to laugh unnoticed (come on, we’ve all covered it up with a cough before) as he lays eyes on this cake and watches the reaction of said guests? Personally, I love homemade cakes and appreciate all the effort. But the pirate one shown does get a bit . . . much.

And now for something completely different . . . here’s something fun and sweet I found on the YouTube. You might recognize this voice. It’s Mama K, my husband’s mum. Then go here, and here to hear a certain great music group, and here to listen to the Divine Miss Mae.

Can we navigate or what? : )

 

Listen to the Music

As will often happen in our house, der Meister and I were recently discussing music. Our conversation came about because of a Father’s Day book I presented to der Meister entitled This is Your Brain on Music. Conversations of this sort usually take a variety of turns, this time covering, among other things, the skill of various music artists, the production value of various songs, and the reason for the various knobs and buttons on your music system.

Music is amazing. It makes those tiny goose pimples rush up and down our arms and up to our hair because the music or voice just did something so glorious that it makes our indescribable emotions want to pop out of our skin. It takes us back to our childhood of playrooms and make-shift stages, junior high school bus rides, and road trips. It warns us that a movie is taking a menacing turn and makes our children hide their eyes and cower in our shoulders. It makes our feet dance, sets the mood with a few choice notes, and conjures up entire story lines based on what we’re hearing. Music means something to us, often certain songs specifically. With this is mind, as part of an autobiographical project, I had my students create a playlist of ten songs that they felt represented them, with an explanation of why that song was chosen. This was cool because as the lists came in I could unmistakably see my students represented in their playlists and why they chose the songs they did. For the most part, they didn’t just choose songs for shock value or because “it’s cool” (which was against the rules, anyway). The songs meant something to them, reminding them of specific events, people, or moods. 

I tried this for myself wondering what I would come up with. I had made various lists of “favorites” before, but what ten would I choose if they had to represent me? It was hard. As I listened to different songs, I found myself thinking of who each song reminded me of rather than wondering how it represented me. I realized that by reminding me of my loved ones, they did, in a way, represent what mattered in my life, hence they were a part of me.

Both my parents love Bruce Springsteen and depending on the song, either one of them will come to mind. However, while hearing The Boss convince us that we were born to run, I think of my mum and how if she were in a crowded room and that song was in the background, she would belt out “woah!” with the man, with an fist punch to the air, indifferent everyone else around because, hey, “I’m singing with Bruce! Bruuuuuuccce!” After a rough day at school, Bruce and I would rock out together on that long drive home until I was sane and calm again.

As Tom Petty runs down his dream, memories of driving to California come to mind, as does memories of driving with my dad in general. We’d talk about the songs we’d hear on the radio, and on this particular drive he pointed out some of the lyrics from this song. I now know that Tom Petty is cool because he, too, wuh-wuh-wuh-wuh- wonders about Mr. Shannon’s runaway.

While hanging out with some friends when I was younger, we were tapping our feet or clapping against our legs to some music going on in the background. As I tapped along to the music, I noticed my friends glance at me then suddenly announce with disgust, “E, you’re off!” I didn’t know how to explain to them that I was tapping to everything I heard going on in the music, not just the beat. It’s what I heard and what didn’t. (Maybe dancing had something to do with that.) It wasn’t until later that I learned words like syncopation and down beats. Now I can point to Jimi Hendrix during his bought with manic depression, which brought about fantastic rhythms, beats, and sounds, to explain what sometimes goes on in my head when I hear music.

Other artists and songs come to mind, of course, but again, I have to distinguish between what I love and what represents me. One of those could be ELO reminding me to hold tight to my dream, which reminds me of my first year-long job search. Their message also came to mind at the end of this school year, and still pops up recently. Another would be Los Lonely Boys admonishing those nay-sayers and skeptics to leave me alone; I’m gonna do it my way because I believe that miracles happen.

So, I’m curious.

What are some songs you would choose for your playlist?