There's something about fall that always gets me. The brilliant colors, the crisp air, the playful breezes that knock one off one's feet. Everything seems to come alive, in one last great burst of life before winter settles in to lull things to sleep. The weather is perfect, cold enough to wear my favorite coat, but warm enough to go without a scarf and boots.
I love looking out of the back windows and seeing a shifting sea of crimson and orange. My favorite time is when not all of the trees have turned yet, so some are green with occasional bursts of orange. Along the road I take to symphony there is one tree that I always look for, as it always turns earlier than the rest. I drive through a sea of green, and then just around a turn there is this flame of scarlet, shooting proudly towards the sky. It catches my breath every time. I love walking through the carpet of leaves on the ground, crunching busily. I love watching the wind catch a tree, whirling the leaves off of the branches and tumbling them to the ground. I love the smell of pumpkin pie baking in the oven (even though I don't actually like to eat it, shocking, I know). The smells of cinnamon and vanilla wafting from candles lighted throughout the house, the sunshine on my sisters' hair, the toothless pumpkins grinning on doorsteps, all of these bring me joy.
Every fall I realize afresh how much stuff the Lord has created, how creative His mind is, and how short I fall of His glory. I am always brought to a new awareness of how far I stand from Him, and how enormous the sacrifice was for Him to bring me closer. May my every thought give Him glory.
November 23, 2011
November 22, 2011
Dish Therapy
Challenge!!
I have decided to start a challenge. I know, I know, the blogging world is full of blog challenges/goals/stuff to do regularly. One of them even ended up as an Oscar-nominated movie! And that movie just so happens to be one of my most favorite movies on the planet (come on, who doesn't like a movie that's dedicated to food?), but anyway. Ahem. I have decided to blog something every day for one month. A paragraph, a sentence, a word. Something.
Why have I chosen the busiest time of year, when everyone is running around like three-year-old kids on sugar highs, and when nothing is certain until about 17 minutes before it's supposed to happen, you ask?
Well, the reason I have chosen to do such a crazy thing is because that I have noticed that when I am writing a lot, my thoughts are more organized and I am able to communicate with people TONS better. A little while ago there was a period of about three weeks when I was swamped with college essays, Shakespeare papers, emails, and lots of other miscellaneous writing stuff. There were thoughts and ideas flying all around in my head, and trying to wrestle them into concrete form on paper was really good for me. It totally forced me to think about what I was trying to say, and as a result my conversations with people were a lot more fruitful.
And I've also decided to do this because I need something in my life that is regular, and certain--something I KNOW that I will do each and every day. I mean, all this waiting on college applications, and audition results, and things is really stressful!! So yeah.
And also because I've always wanted to do a "blog challenge".......*sheepish grin*.
Why have I chosen the busiest time of year, when everyone is running around like three-year-old kids on sugar highs, and when nothing is certain until about 17 minutes before it's supposed to happen, you ask?
Well, the reason I have chosen to do such a crazy thing is because that I have noticed that when I am writing a lot, my thoughts are more organized and I am able to communicate with people TONS better. A little while ago there was a period of about three weeks when I was swamped with college essays, Shakespeare papers, emails, and lots of other miscellaneous writing stuff. There were thoughts and ideas flying all around in my head, and trying to wrestle them into concrete form on paper was really good for me. It totally forced me to think about what I was trying to say, and as a result my conversations with people were a lot more fruitful.
And I've also decided to do this because I need something in my life that is regular, and certain--something I KNOW that I will do each and every day. I mean, all this waiting on college applications, and audition results, and things is really stressful!! So yeah.
And also because I've always wanted to do a "blog challenge".......*sheepish grin*.
July 2, 2011
Count Your Blessings
There's a song in White Christmas; a duet between Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney. She can't sleep, so she goes down to the kitchen (where Bing is noodling on the piano), to get a snack. They meet, talk, and end up singing a song about "if you're worried, and you can't sleep, just count your blessings, instead of sheep". I've been rather depressed lately, and wondering what's up with my life, so I'm gonna count my blessings and see what happens.....
1) An entire family.
2) Food to eat. While it's not the food I would prefer to eat, it's still food and it fills my belly.
3) My own room. I don't have to share with anyone, I can have it as clean or as messy as I want and nobody cares. What a rich blessing indeed.
4) A violin, and an amazing teacher.
5) "Cousins" that love me, are close by, and let me come to their house whenever I want to chill. Especially
6) My 4-yr-old cousin who screams my name and runs to me with arms outstretched every time she sees me; no matter whether it's the first time in a week, or the first time in an hour. I don't deserve her.
7) A wonderful church family. People say hi to me, ask how I'm doing, and they really care. I never knew that could happen.
8) Clothes.
9) The coolest dad in the world.
10) Books. What would the world be like without them? A tragedy.
I have so many blessings; why am I so frail that I moan over and over about how my life is in "the depths of despair"? Why do I become so unsatisfied with my lot, why do I find it so hard to bloom where I am planted?
"For the heart is deceitful and desperately wicked, who can know it?" Jeremiah 17:9
The LORD has my life in the palm of His hand. He has created the entire universe, orchestrated billions of lives through thousands of years toward His perfect plan. He has sent His only Son to die a horrible death, take the sins of those billions of lives upon His shoulders, so that I might live to glorify Him. And I, weak, pitiful, frail human being that I am, cannot remember that. My agenda is so small, so weak, compared to His great glory and majesty. What business have I to complain?
1) An entire family.
2) Food to eat. While it's not the food I would prefer to eat, it's still food and it fills my belly.
3) My own room. I don't have to share with anyone, I can have it as clean or as messy as I want and nobody cares. What a rich blessing indeed.
4) A violin, and an amazing teacher.
5) "Cousins" that love me, are close by, and let me come to their house whenever I want to chill. Especially
6) My 4-yr-old cousin who screams my name and runs to me with arms outstretched every time she sees me; no matter whether it's the first time in a week, or the first time in an hour. I don't deserve her.
7) A wonderful church family. People say hi to me, ask how I'm doing, and they really care. I never knew that could happen.
8) Clothes.
9) The coolest dad in the world.
10) Books. What would the world be like without them? A tragedy.
I have so many blessings; why am I so frail that I moan over and over about how my life is in "the depths of despair"? Why do I become so unsatisfied with my lot, why do I find it so hard to bloom where I am planted?
"For the heart is deceitful and desperately wicked, who can know it?" Jeremiah 17:9
The LORD has my life in the palm of His hand. He has created the entire universe, orchestrated billions of lives through thousands of years toward His perfect plan. He has sent His only Son to die a horrible death, take the sins of those billions of lives upon His shoulders, so that I might live to glorify Him. And I, weak, pitiful, frail human being that I am, cannot remember that. My agenda is so small, so weak, compared to His great glory and majesty. What business have I to complain?
June 12, 2011
Conversation Over Hot Dogs
Conversation this evening while my little brother was teaching me how to fry a hot dog.
11-yr-old Bro whispers to 13-yr-old Sis: "I'm teaching Betsey how to cook a hot dog. I can't believe she doesn't know how to do this!" Aside to me: "I'm gonna do this once for you now, so that you can know how to do it later, and won't have to ask me."
Pans rattle. Single hot dog squelches out of wrapper and into pan.
Bro: "Now, you always have to butter the pan, because otherwise, um, you know, it gets a little crazy."
A few minutes pass, then:
Bro: "Oh, wow, it's actually smoking. Guess I cooked it a little too much! Betsey, do you mind burnt hot dogs?"
Me: "No, I kinda like 'em. It gives them texture."
Bro: "Good, 'cause this one is definitely burnt."
So here I sit, eating my hot dog that's burnt on one side and raw on the other. Brothers are awesome.
11-yr-old Bro whispers to 13-yr-old Sis: "I'm teaching Betsey how to cook a hot dog. I can't believe she doesn't know how to do this!" Aside to me: "I'm gonna do this once for you now, so that you can know how to do it later, and won't have to ask me."
Pans rattle. Single hot dog squelches out of wrapper and into pan.
Bro: "Now, you always have to butter the pan, because otherwise, um, you know, it gets a little crazy."
A few minutes pass, then:
Bro: "Oh, wow, it's actually smoking. Guess I cooked it a little too much! Betsey, do you mind burnt hot dogs?"
Me: "No, I kinda like 'em. It gives them texture."
Bro: "Good, 'cause this one is definitely burnt."
So here I sit, eating my hot dog that's burnt on one side and raw on the other. Brothers are awesome.
May 9, 2011
SYS Youth Talent Winner
The Springfield Youth Symphony has a concerto competition every year for its members. Basically, if you sign up, you play a piece for the judges and they pick two contestants to get to play their piece with the orchestra for the end-of-year concert. I participated this year, and although I didn't win, still had an amazing experience. Here is one guy who did win, and blew us all away with his amazing ability. The video doesn't do his performance justice, but it's still pretty cool.
Survival of the SAT
Scene 1: A Dark and Dreary Saturday Morning
The alarm blares at 6:05, and my hand gropes its way out of the blankets to shut it off. I roll out of bed, rubbing my eyes and grumbling under my breath. I am not an early morning person. The sun hasn't come up yet, and I'm too tired to turn on a light, so I dress in the dark. Rizzo whines, and I let him out the door. I stumble to the bathroom and flick the light switch, yawning as I pop my contacts in. After I brush my hair and take the shine off my nose, I head upstairs to eat.
Mom greets me with an equation: a triangle's area is 1/2 base times height. I nod, and bite into a muffin. As I sip my milk, she regales me with the fact that the area of a circle is pi times r squared, while the circumference is two times pi times r. Three number two pencils sit atop my admission ticket on the table, hugging my calculator. The calculator will be my greatest ally in math. The clock says 6:43, so I shove my shoes on and head out to the car, audible equations following me. As I turn the key I remember that "Mozart makes babies smarter"; why not me? so I run in and grab my Mozart Piano Concertos CD. If anything it'll relax me.
Scene 2: A Dark and Dreary Test Center
It was an hour drive, maybe a little more. Fortunately there was no traffic, except around the fallen tree on the city street. I found the test center after getting upset at Google Maps for saying it was the first right, instead of the third. I found a parking lot, and was unpleasantly surprised by the sight of meters in it (how many quarters for 4 hours?), and then pleasantly surprised by a little sign on the meter that said "Monday-Friday". Sweet, now instead of spending my entire worldly goods on a meter I might have enough for an ice cream later, if I survive. I notified my parents I had arrived, and walked through the door.
There was a green sign: "SAT Reasoning Test This Way", with an arrow that pointed straight to a man sitting at a desk. I stood in line, and waited my turn.
He got to me and barked "Name?"
"Elizabeth Karako."
He thumbed through his lists. "Start with a C?"
"K, please."
He found it, and made a check. "Room 434, take the elevator to the 4th floor and exit to the right. Haveaniceday." Was he being funny?
Scene 3: A Big and Scary Test
I found the room just as the man said. I opened the door and found myself confronting 23 pairs of eyes, at 23 desks. (Identified SAT test-takers, all in same boat.) The only pair of eyes that wasn't looking at me was messing with something at a podium. (Identified SAT test-proctor, may or may not be friendly. Exercise caution.) There was one table left, in the back corner, so I headed there as quietly and as quickly as possible. I shoved my provisions box and my purse under the desk, and sat down, breathing hard. It was as quiet as a hearse in there. I tried to breathe more quietly, and silently unpacked my pencils, calculator and admission ticket. Hmm, wonder why the guy downstairs didn't want this? I surveyed the room, and noticed one brave soul was wearing a Steelers jersey. Ah, a fellow fan. Thank goodness for some light in this dark place. Glancing down, I noticed that my provisions box was halfway out in the aisle, so I got up to fix it and promptly tripped over my own feet. I hit the floor with a thud to wake the dead, and 23 heads swiveled towards my direction. The proctor must have been deaf. Pretending I was unaware of 23 burning gazes, I nonchalantly picked up my box and sat down. Silence reigned for 2 minutes, then the proctor seemed to notice that the time was 7:43, two minutes before the start of testing.
"Has anyone here not checked in?"
A long arm clothed in black and gold stretched its full length and silently pointed at me. 22 heads swiveled my way, again. Mr. Steelers fan, you are no friend of mine.
"Have you checked in?"
"Um, not up here. Was I supposed to?"
"Yes dear, please bring your admission ticket to me."
I fumbled it off of the desk and walked the long road up to the podium.
"Your ID please?"
I turned around, trudged back and obtained my driver's license, then slogged the weary miles to the podium. 23 pairs of eyes followed me the whole long way. I swear that aisle was longer than going to the moon and back.
Formalities completed, I collected my paperwork and marched back to my seat. I collapsed in my chair and had just enough time to take three deep breaths when Mr. Proctor started his SAT speech.
As a result of that speech, I can't tell you any more of what happened that day, or I will be hunted down and arrested by the ETS. Suffice it to say, those were the worst 4 1/2 hours I have ever been through in my life, and I am being propped up by life-saving machines as we speak. But, I survived.
The alarm blares at 6:05, and my hand gropes its way out of the blankets to shut it off. I roll out of bed, rubbing my eyes and grumbling under my breath. I am not an early morning person. The sun hasn't come up yet, and I'm too tired to turn on a light, so I dress in the dark. Rizzo whines, and I let him out the door. I stumble to the bathroom and flick the light switch, yawning as I pop my contacts in. After I brush my hair and take the shine off my nose, I head upstairs to eat.
Mom greets me with an equation: a triangle's area is 1/2 base times height. I nod, and bite into a muffin. As I sip my milk, she regales me with the fact that the area of a circle is pi times r squared, while the circumference is two times pi times r. Three number two pencils sit atop my admission ticket on the table, hugging my calculator. The calculator will be my greatest ally in math. The clock says 6:43, so I shove my shoes on and head out to the car, audible equations following me. As I turn the key I remember that "Mozart makes babies smarter"; why not me? so I run in and grab my Mozart Piano Concertos CD. If anything it'll relax me.
Scene 2: A Dark and Dreary Test Center
It was an hour drive, maybe a little more. Fortunately there was no traffic, except around the fallen tree on the city street. I found the test center after getting upset at Google Maps for saying it was the first right, instead of the third. I found a parking lot, and was unpleasantly surprised by the sight of meters in it (how many quarters for 4 hours?), and then pleasantly surprised by a little sign on the meter that said "Monday-Friday". Sweet, now instead of spending my entire worldly goods on a meter I might have enough for an ice cream later, if I survive. I notified my parents I had arrived, and walked through the door.
There was a green sign: "SAT Reasoning Test This Way", with an arrow that pointed straight to a man sitting at a desk. I stood in line, and waited my turn.
He got to me and barked "Name?"
"Elizabeth Karako."
He thumbed through his lists. "Start with a C?"
"K, please."
He found it, and made a check. "Room 434, take the elevator to the 4th floor and exit to the right. Haveaniceday." Was he being funny?
Scene 3: A Big and Scary Test
I found the room just as the man said. I opened the door and found myself confronting 23 pairs of eyes, at 23 desks. (Identified SAT test-takers, all in same boat.) The only pair of eyes that wasn't looking at me was messing with something at a podium. (Identified SAT test-proctor, may or may not be friendly. Exercise caution.) There was one table left, in the back corner, so I headed there as quietly and as quickly as possible. I shoved my provisions box and my purse under the desk, and sat down, breathing hard. It was as quiet as a hearse in there. I tried to breathe more quietly, and silently unpacked my pencils, calculator and admission ticket. Hmm, wonder why the guy downstairs didn't want this? I surveyed the room, and noticed one brave soul was wearing a Steelers jersey. Ah, a fellow fan. Thank goodness for some light in this dark place. Glancing down, I noticed that my provisions box was halfway out in the aisle, so I got up to fix it and promptly tripped over my own feet. I hit the floor with a thud to wake the dead, and 23 heads swiveled towards my direction. The proctor must have been deaf. Pretending I was unaware of 23 burning gazes, I nonchalantly picked up my box and sat down. Silence reigned for 2 minutes, then the proctor seemed to notice that the time was 7:43, two minutes before the start of testing.
"Has anyone here not checked in?"
A long arm clothed in black and gold stretched its full length and silently pointed at me. 22 heads swiveled my way, again. Mr. Steelers fan, you are no friend of mine.
"Have you checked in?"
"Um, not up here. Was I supposed to?"
"Yes dear, please bring your admission ticket to me."
I fumbled it off of the desk and walked the long road up to the podium.
"Your ID please?"
I turned around, trudged back and obtained my driver's license, then slogged the weary miles to the podium. 23 pairs of eyes followed me the whole long way. I swear that aisle was longer than going to the moon and back.
Formalities completed, I collected my paperwork and marched back to my seat. I collapsed in my chair and had just enough time to take three deep breaths when Mr. Proctor started his SAT speech.
As a result of that speech, I can't tell you any more of what happened that day, or I will be hunted down and arrested by the ETS. Suffice it to say, those were the worst 4 1/2 hours I have ever been through in my life, and I am being propped up by life-saving machines as we speak. But, I survived.
February 22, 2011
Spring Fever
If spring fever is
Then yes, I have it. Oh spring, come soon! I need you!!
- an uncontrollable hunger for pink flip flops
- driving with all the windows down at 55 degrees
- an urge to attack the house with Pledge and 409
- strong desire for strawberries and the beach
- dreams of the beach
- inability to concentrate on such mundane things as schoolwork
- digging through the closet to find a sundress
- tears on a rainy day
Then yes, I have it. Oh spring, come soon! I need you!!
February 11, 2011
Car
I think my dream Corvettte has got a rival. Behold, the 1965 Chevrolet Corvair!!
It's turbo-charged, got a 6 cylinder engine, comes in convertible or coupe, and is sooo cute!!!! I think it's time for some serious comparisons. Maybe I should have a saga. Old Love vs. New Love....stay tuned. :-)
Jazz Love
So, in orchestra we have been working on the "pops" bit of the semester and this year Dr. Dissmore said that our program would be entitled: "Jazz Meets the Orchestra". Humph, I thought, this will be interesting. I mean, I know what jazz is. It's funky music played by weirdos that has no real rhyme or rhythm. And Mom and Chrissy like it; enough said. Or so I thought.
We get about two weeks into rehearsals, and I discover that I really had no idea whatsoever about jazz. It's really fun stuff! I feel all warm and happy inside, and I want to tap my feet. And there are some moments when I even want to twirl around in a swirly skirt under the moon! Jazz music slides and sways; some bits are very lush and smooth (think fudge or pearls), while others tickle your toes so much you have to stand up and move!
There is a set rhythm, only it never sounds that way because when you play jazz music you smoosh it and pull it and stretch it and squeeze it and shake it, so that it doesn't really sound to have rhythm at all. One of the directors, Mrs. Whouton, said there was a whole new language that jazz people used when referring to the rhythm. Apparently it consists of "doos" and "dats" and "dits" (there was one more but I forgot it).
Speaking of jazz people, we have a jazz trio, the Jacob Hiser Trio, coming to play a few pieces with us. They are an electric bass (oh so cool! I want one), some drums, and a piano. They sound really neat, and it's fun to see "real" (jazz trio verus classical orchestra attempting to play jazz) jazz played. My seat is the perfect spot for watching the drums and the bass during our 23-measure rests. I found out that the "shushing" noise is made by brushing the drums! The drummer takes two brushes that look like paint brushes with a twisted wire loop at the end, and sweeps them across the drum, smooshing the bristles down really far. And sometimes he turns them over and swipes the wire loop across a cymbal, which makes a smooth, bright noise.
Anywho, we are having our concert in approximately 4 days, and I was never so excited about an orchestra concert before! Which I suppose isn't saying much, considering that I've only had one other. But I definitely am going to have tons of fun.
So I guess the moral of this post is, never ever condemn anything until you've found out what it really is. Not to say that you couldn't condemn Chinese chicken foot soup, but that's beside the point. One never knows what something that appears weird might turn out to be. You might find a new love! (Except chicken foot soup, that's pretty self-explanatory)
We get about two weeks into rehearsals, and I discover that I really had no idea whatsoever about jazz. It's really fun stuff! I feel all warm and happy inside, and I want to tap my feet. And there are some moments when I even want to twirl around in a swirly skirt under the moon! Jazz music slides and sways; some bits are very lush and smooth (think fudge or pearls), while others tickle your toes so much you have to stand up and move!
There is a set rhythm, only it never sounds that way because when you play jazz music you smoosh it and pull it and stretch it and squeeze it and shake it, so that it doesn't really sound to have rhythm at all. One of the directors, Mrs. Whouton, said there was a whole new language that jazz people used when referring to the rhythm. Apparently it consists of "doos" and "dats" and "dits" (there was one more but I forgot it).
Speaking of jazz people, we have a jazz trio, the Jacob Hiser Trio, coming to play a few pieces with us. They are an electric bass (oh so cool! I want one), some drums, and a piano. They sound really neat, and it's fun to see "real" (jazz trio verus classical orchestra attempting to play jazz) jazz played. My seat is the perfect spot for watching the drums and the bass during our 23-measure rests. I found out that the "shushing" noise is made by brushing the drums! The drummer takes two brushes that look like paint brushes with a twisted wire loop at the end, and sweeps them across the drum, smooshing the bristles down really far. And sometimes he turns them over and swipes the wire loop across a cymbal, which makes a smooth, bright noise.
Anywho, we are having our concert in approximately 4 days, and I was never so excited about an orchestra concert before! Which I suppose isn't saying much, considering that I've only had one other. But I definitely am going to have tons of fun.
So I guess the moral of this post is, never ever condemn anything until you've found out what it really is. Not to say that you couldn't condemn Chinese chicken foot soup, but that's beside the point. One never knows what something that appears weird might turn out to be. You might find a new love! (Except chicken foot soup, that's pretty self-explanatory)
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