It all started on Sunday night. The air was cool and crisp, the sun was bright, and there was a faint breeze. Happy tourists roamed the streets of downtown Branson looking for frivolous nothings to spend money on. In short, it was a very pleasant fall evening. Thus, no one had an inkling of what was to come. *play scary music*
The 'rents had dropped me off in front of Dick's Five and Dime to do my stuff for an hour before church. I was really looking forward to playing on such a gorgeous evening, and getting paid for it! So I opened my case, threw some "seed money" in, and got to it. Before long I was attracting smiles and dollars. It was all going swimmingly until I heard a small put. What on earth is a put, you may ask? Well, the exact nature of this put cannot be exactly described, unless one happened to be standing right there when it happened. Suffice it to say it was a definite put. I thought nothing of it until my bow crossed strings to play on the E, and instead of an E, there came out a B flat! (Right now you may be thinking that I have excellent ears to be able to tell so exactly the different notes, but in order not to spread falsehoods, I shall now confess: I used my handy little tuner. So now you know the whole truth you may go back to reading the saga.) Supressing an expression of extreme distaste, I put my violin down and proceeded to tune it back up. But, as I was twisting the peg to turn the B flat into an E, the string broke! And there was no doubt about it either, it was definitely and completely broken. So I packed up.
Fast forward to Monday afternoon. Dad had driven me up to Springfield for symphony practice, and I asked him to take me up early so I could get a new E string from Hoover Music. No problem, since he and John could also seize the moment and go drool over guitars. So I walked in the door, and up to the string counter where I see perfect strangers. Normally this wouldn't be a problem, except that I had never seen any strangers at Hoover. Every other time I've walked in, it's always been the same people there. Well, talking to strange customer service people is a hurdle that must be crossed, so I swallowed and asked for a Pirastro E string. "Full size?" one of the strange men asked, and I answered "Yes, please." So far, so good. I perched my violin on the counter, and waited. It seemed to be taking a rather long time, and the man had another man helping him. What's all this? I wondered.
Finally, the man approached me and inquired, "So, uh, what type of Pirastro do you want?"
I stared at him speechlessly, thoughts swirling around in my head. What type? There are types? It's an E string, for crying out loud! He must be trying to trick me, although I don't know why, since I'm here to buy something. Maybe he's an evil genius trying to trap helpless young violinists into, uh, into something, I'm sure. "Gee, I don't know," I said finally, "uh, the package had gold lettering on it, does that help?"
The man went back and thumbed through the packages again with his helper.
Finally the evil accomplice came up to me waving no less than three packages with gold lettering. "Is it any of these?"
I gazed helplessly, searching my brain for some kind of recognition. None came. "I honestly can't remember," I said. "My last one was a Dominant, but my teacher wanted a Pirastro this time...." my voice trailed off.
Mr. Evil Genius asked me if I remembered the wrapping on the string itself. I shrugged helplessly. There was an awkward silence.
"It was green," my Daddy interjected suddenly, "it was green."
The evil accomplice asserted that that would be the Pirastro Olive. Sure, I guess I'll take it. I mean, it's just an E string, right? Oh, and can you please put it on for me?
"Sure, now would you like it wrapped around, or just hooked through?"
For the second time, my jaw opened and closed speechlessly. "Whatever you feel like doing," I finally blurt out.
"All right, but in order to do that I'll need the violin out of the case."
"Ohh, right. I guess that would help."
Both Mr. Evil Genius and his evil accomplice smile, and then evil accomplice threads my string. He tunes it, then I pack up and make my escape.
So, yup. There is the tale of the broken E string. Enjoy your day! :-)
October 7, 2010
October 2, 2010
September 30, 2010
Book Musings
This week I got two books out of the library. Well, I got more than two, but these two are the ones I want to talk about. One was The Queen of Attolia by Megan Whalen Turner, which I have read before, and the other one was The Princess and the Hound by Mette Ivie Harrison.
I read The Queen of Attolia first and it was every bit as good as I remembered it. In fact, better. (I love it when that happens!) I put it down with a sense of having gone so deep into the story that it was going to be hard to come back up to real life. Then I read The Princess and the Hound. It started out with some great possibilities, and I was getting rather excited to see where it would end up, but in the middle it started throwing me off. As I got closer and closer to the end, I found myself falling farther and farther out of the story, so when I reached the end I was merely reading words on the page. I wanted to throw it across the room! But I couldn't, because it was a library book and I didn't have any money to pay for it if I ripped it.
And it got me thinking: how some books can totally draw you into the story and others don't even skim the surface. What makes some books so great and others quite stupid? Part of it is the plot, I suppose. Good books often have great sub-plots as well as main plots to keep my mind active and interested. And the plot has to be relatively believable and consistent in order for me to keep reading. Without a plot, there's no story, right? But I think a lot of it has to do with the details of the author's writing. Really good books, I often find, are the ones where the author has thought about his/her writing. Not just dashing the ideas down on a page, but really sitting back and thinking about the exact words that will best convey the meaning. And mixing up the sentence structures so that the writing does not get stale.
Most often, what will make or break a good book for me are the details of a writing. Whether the author has taken trouble to really write a story so that it opens up in front of me, or if he's just recording his thoughts on paper.
As Snoopy so aptly put it, "Good writing takes an enormous amount of concentration."
I read The Queen of Attolia first and it was every bit as good as I remembered it. In fact, better. (I love it when that happens!) I put it down with a sense of having gone so deep into the story that it was going to be hard to come back up to real life. Then I read The Princess and the Hound. It started out with some great possibilities, and I was getting rather excited to see where it would end up, but in the middle it started throwing me off. As I got closer and closer to the end, I found myself falling farther and farther out of the story, so when I reached the end I was merely reading words on the page. I wanted to throw it across the room! But I couldn't, because it was a library book and I didn't have any money to pay for it if I ripped it.
And it got me thinking: how some books can totally draw you into the story and others don't even skim the surface. What makes some books so great and others quite stupid? Part of it is the plot, I suppose. Good books often have great sub-plots as well as main plots to keep my mind active and interested. And the plot has to be relatively believable and consistent in order for me to keep reading. Without a plot, there's no story, right? But I think a lot of it has to do with the details of the author's writing. Really good books, I often find, are the ones where the author has thought about his/her writing. Not just dashing the ideas down on a page, but really sitting back and thinking about the exact words that will best convey the meaning. And mixing up the sentence structures so that the writing does not get stale.
Most often, what will make or break a good book for me are the details of a writing. Whether the author has taken trouble to really write a story so that it opens up in front of me, or if he's just recording his thoughts on paper.
As Snoopy so aptly put it, "Good writing takes an enormous amount of concentration."
August 21, 2010
Phone!!
The latest back-to-school accessory: the cell phone. Teens of all ages are picking one up as they head off to serious academic studies. With features such as a 1.3 mp camera, 3G web browser, and full text messaging capabilites, this accessory has everything one needs for a successful school year. Some packages even include a small combination safe for protection against younger siblings. No stylish teen will be without one this coming fall.
Kudos to my little bro John for taking the photos without chopping my head off. :-)
August 17, 2010
Institute
So, last week (August 8-14) I went to my favorite place in the whole wide world: The American Suzuki Institute!! Located in Stevens Point, Wisconsin, the Institute is the largest "Suzuki camp" in the U.S and lasts for two one-week sessions. Usually over 2000 people go there, but the economy has taken a toll the past few years, so attendance has been down quite a bit. It is a magical place, filled with music and laughter. My violin teacher, Kami, and I drove up for one week along with her sister, Korinne, and three of Korinne's students: Kristina, Elizabeth, and Aaron. We had a blast that whole week, and are counting down the days until next year.
Here is a small taste of my 'average' day--although up there you can't really count anything average, it's all different! But here are the bare bones of it, I guess....
7 AM--Wake up, stuff some yogurt and Cheerios down my throat, get dressed, and walk over to the Noel Fine Arts Center (NFAC) for repertoire class. Several mornings Kami sent me away from the dorm with a "Be good, children! Oh my goodness, I sound like a mom!". Our dorm was the closest to the buildings, but even so it took us 5-10 minutes walking to get there.
8 AM--Repertoire class with Kathy Rollings. In this class we worked on whole pieces, and playing them together as a group the way the teacher wanted them. It was a fun class to wake up to, as Ms. Rollings was full of dry humor and made me giggle constantly. It was in a big room (I think it was used as a dance studio) with a purple floor and black walls.
9 AM--Walk up two flights of stairs to the practice rooms; I usually had forgotten to sign up for one the day before, so some days I ended up walking back down and outside to practice. It was super fun walking down the hallways with music pouring out all around me. I would usually practice my orchestra music since it was next.
10 AM--Orchestra with Terry Durbin. Sooo much fun!! He was big about finding stories in pieces, and would have the entire string orchestra rolling in their seats with the images he created. His conducting was always expressive of the mood he wanted us to convey. I laughed more in that hour than I did the whole day!
11 AM--I would pack up my violin and run back to the dorm for the time-honored classic of PBJ, and then back to the practice rooms. One day we went out for lunch to the Wooden Chair; a wonderful breakfast/lunch place. Or there would be a play-in somewhere, and I would go to that. Play-ins are one of my favorite parts of Insitute; basically you show up with your instrument, and the leader starts playing pieces and you join in when you know one. Or we'll do variations on old pieces, or take them different tempos, or play rounds--lots of fun stuff!
1 PM--I toddle over to technique class (in the CCC building) with Janis Wittrig. She's a very solid instructor, and had lots of good stuff for us to do. This was a smaller class, with only about 12 kids in it. By the end of the week, everybody knew each other pretty well.
2 PM--Back to the practice rooms, this time to practice intonation drills for masterclass. If I had forgotten to sign up for a room, I would find one that was empty, and stay in it until the occupant showed up, and then walk over to another room.
3 PM--Masterclass with Carol Dallinger!! She was an absolute darling, and I loved her. Especially after she told me that good intonation is not a secret mystery! Every day she showed me a new trick or drill that would help me, and I would practice it on my Haydn concerto. She was such fun to watch, so cosey and yet always knowing what she wanted to do. One time I was playing a single note for her, to see if it was in tune. I play it for 20 seconds, and she looks over at me and asks if I'm waiting for her to approve it. Yes, I reply, and she shoots back "Well, I'm not gonna." The whole room giggled, and I moved on to the next note. :-)
4 PM--Every day except Wednesday and Friday there were Solo Recitals in Michelson Hall. In these recitals the very best kids at all levels were chosen to play with Linda Perry (the most amazing piano player ever) in the fancy recital hall. I was picked last year, and it was truly a memorable experience. The sound rises so beautifully, and bounces back so you can hear every note crystal clear.....'swonderful. I would sneak in, because masterclass always went a little over, find a seat and just let it all sink in. That was a fun hour.
5 PM--There were lectures at this hour--I only went to one which was a Q&A session--there were lots of good ones that I wanted to go to, but something usually came up. Dinner, or hanging out with the others, or practicing. On Wednesday I was in an Informal Recital, which were recitals held in different rooms all over campus, for kids that had improved a lot during the week, or showed promise. These were really fun in their own way, because you could move from recital to recital and see what you wanted. People were always walking in and out, and it was more like a fun jam session than a recital. It was also slightly scary, because there was no rehearsal with the accompanist beforehand, so neither of us knew quite what the other was going to do; but it was a good chalk-up to experience.
7 PM--On Monday and Tuesday night were the Guest Artist and Faculty recitals over in Sentry Theater. It was about 2 minutes across town, and larger than Michelson, but very intimate-feeling. On Monday night Karen Basrak played the cello, and it was marvellous. Tuesday night all the faculty played in ensembles, and soloed, and in an orchestra. It was always fun to look forward to those nights. Wednesday night was the Talent Show, where our group did a pantomime of the Three Billy Goats Gruff with theme music played on our violins. Thursday night the chamber music kids performed in their orchestra, and in quartets. Friday night was the Festival Concert in the gym, when every single violin student stood up and played.
9 PM--Back to the practice rooms in the NFAC. This was my favorite time to go, because almost nobody was there; and you could leave the doors open, or practice in the hallway, or take a break to walk around without worrying about your stuff being taken. Not to mention it's a lot cooler, and easier to concentrate with all the quiet. One night Kristina and I were practicing our orchestra music together, and we were having so much fun that Kami shocked us by coming over and telling us it was 11:30. Often the only clue we would have as to what time it was was when the custodian came over and turned the main lights off in the hallways. I've always been a good night person. :-)
11 PM--Bedtime! We would get back to the dorm, drop our stuff on the floor, and collapse into bed. By the end of the week the dorm looked like my little brother's room, but literally all we did there was sleep, or run in to exchange stuff and run right back out.
It was a fabulous week, with music everywhere from sun-up to sun-down, friends to share it with, and amazing teachers! I loved every minute of it, and can't wait until next year! I'm aiming for chamber music camp, which lasts for two weeks, has normal classes plus quartets and a chamber orchestra. Going to Institute has strenthened my resolve to get better at my chosen craft, and to use it for the glory of the Lord. Without Him, I would be nothing.
I will give thanks to the Lord with all my heart;
I will tell of all Your wonders.
I will be glad and exult in You;
I will sing praise to Your name, O Most High.
Psalm 9:1-2
Pictures (and possibly video) are coming soon!!
Here is a small taste of my 'average' day--although up there you can't really count anything average, it's all different! But here are the bare bones of it, I guess....
7 AM--Wake up, stuff some yogurt and Cheerios down my throat, get dressed, and walk over to the Noel Fine Arts Center (NFAC) for repertoire class. Several mornings Kami sent me away from the dorm with a "Be good, children! Oh my goodness, I sound like a mom!". Our dorm was the closest to the buildings, but even so it took us 5-10 minutes walking to get there.
8 AM--Repertoire class with Kathy Rollings. In this class we worked on whole pieces, and playing them together as a group the way the teacher wanted them. It was a fun class to wake up to, as Ms. Rollings was full of dry humor and made me giggle constantly. It was in a big room (I think it was used as a dance studio) with a purple floor and black walls.
9 AM--Walk up two flights of stairs to the practice rooms; I usually had forgotten to sign up for one the day before, so some days I ended up walking back down and outside to practice. It was super fun walking down the hallways with music pouring out all around me. I would usually practice my orchestra music since it was next.
10 AM--Orchestra with Terry Durbin. Sooo much fun!! He was big about finding stories in pieces, and would have the entire string orchestra rolling in their seats with the images he created. His conducting was always expressive of the mood he wanted us to convey. I laughed more in that hour than I did the whole day!
11 AM--I would pack up my violin and run back to the dorm for the time-honored classic of PBJ, and then back to the practice rooms. One day we went out for lunch to the Wooden Chair; a wonderful breakfast/lunch place. Or there would be a play-in somewhere, and I would go to that. Play-ins are one of my favorite parts of Insitute; basically you show up with your instrument, and the leader starts playing pieces and you join in when you know one. Or we'll do variations on old pieces, or take them different tempos, or play rounds--lots of fun stuff!
1 PM--I toddle over to technique class (in the CCC building) with Janis Wittrig. She's a very solid instructor, and had lots of good stuff for us to do. This was a smaller class, with only about 12 kids in it. By the end of the week, everybody knew each other pretty well.
2 PM--Back to the practice rooms, this time to practice intonation drills for masterclass. If I had forgotten to sign up for a room, I would find one that was empty, and stay in it until the occupant showed up, and then walk over to another room.
3 PM--Masterclass with Carol Dallinger!! She was an absolute darling, and I loved her. Especially after she told me that good intonation is not a secret mystery! Every day she showed me a new trick or drill that would help me, and I would practice it on my Haydn concerto. She was such fun to watch, so cosey and yet always knowing what she wanted to do. One time I was playing a single note for her, to see if it was in tune. I play it for 20 seconds, and she looks over at me and asks if I'm waiting for her to approve it. Yes, I reply, and she shoots back "Well, I'm not gonna." The whole room giggled, and I moved on to the next note. :-)
4 PM--Every day except Wednesday and Friday there were Solo Recitals in Michelson Hall. In these recitals the very best kids at all levels were chosen to play with Linda Perry (the most amazing piano player ever) in the fancy recital hall. I was picked last year, and it was truly a memorable experience. The sound rises so beautifully, and bounces back so you can hear every note crystal clear.....'swonderful. I would sneak in, because masterclass always went a little over, find a seat and just let it all sink in. That was a fun hour.
5 PM--There were lectures at this hour--I only went to one which was a Q&A session--there were lots of good ones that I wanted to go to, but something usually came up. Dinner, or hanging out with the others, or practicing. On Wednesday I was in an Informal Recital, which were recitals held in different rooms all over campus, for kids that had improved a lot during the week, or showed promise. These were really fun in their own way, because you could move from recital to recital and see what you wanted. People were always walking in and out, and it was more like a fun jam session than a recital. It was also slightly scary, because there was no rehearsal with the accompanist beforehand, so neither of us knew quite what the other was going to do; but it was a good chalk-up to experience.
7 PM--On Monday and Tuesday night were the Guest Artist and Faculty recitals over in Sentry Theater. It was about 2 minutes across town, and larger than Michelson, but very intimate-feeling. On Monday night Karen Basrak played the cello, and it was marvellous. Tuesday night all the faculty played in ensembles, and soloed, and in an orchestra. It was always fun to look forward to those nights. Wednesday night was the Talent Show, where our group did a pantomime of the Three Billy Goats Gruff with theme music played on our violins. Thursday night the chamber music kids performed in their orchestra, and in quartets. Friday night was the Festival Concert in the gym, when every single violin student stood up and played.
9 PM--Back to the practice rooms in the NFAC. This was my favorite time to go, because almost nobody was there; and you could leave the doors open, or practice in the hallway, or take a break to walk around without worrying about your stuff being taken. Not to mention it's a lot cooler, and easier to concentrate with all the quiet. One night Kristina and I were practicing our orchestra music together, and we were having so much fun that Kami shocked us by coming over and telling us it was 11:30. Often the only clue we would have as to what time it was was when the custodian came over and turned the main lights off in the hallways. I've always been a good night person. :-)
11 PM--Bedtime! We would get back to the dorm, drop our stuff on the floor, and collapse into bed. By the end of the week the dorm looked like my little brother's room, but literally all we did there was sleep, or run in to exchange stuff and run right back out.
It was a fabulous week, with music everywhere from sun-up to sun-down, friends to share it with, and amazing teachers! I loved every minute of it, and can't wait until next year! I'm aiming for chamber music camp, which lasts for two weeks, has normal classes plus quartets and a chamber orchestra. Going to Institute has strenthened my resolve to get better at my chosen craft, and to use it for the glory of the Lord. Without Him, I would be nothing.
I will give thanks to the Lord with all my heart;
I will tell of all Your wonders.
I will be glad and exult in You;
I will sing praise to Your name, O Most High.
Psalm 9:1-2
Pictures (and possibly video) are coming soon!!
July 30, 2010
Description
Here is a descriptive essay I wrote awhile ago for English class, and "rediscovered" while looking through my document files. Youth orchestra is one of my favorite things. I hope you enjoy it!
Performance Night
As I walk into the room, a wave of noise and excitement rushes out the door. It is twenty minutes before performance, and everyone is on edge. The first sound I hear is one that is familiar to every musician: tuning instruments. The strange, inexplicable noise that is almost dissonant, yet is rather melodic. It fills the room, rising into the rafters and floating out the door. Under it I can hear difficult passages being rehearsed, as everyone crams in a final moment of practice. Basses are rumbling, trumpets are blaring, flutes are twittering, drums are rolling, and violins are singing. I hear the slap of cases opening and being shoved against the wall, the scrape of a music stand across the floor. As I pass small knots of people, I overhear snatches of conversation: “Are you sure you won’t forget about the grace note,” “I have to go swab it out,” “Mike said he would do it,” “I really hope my string doesn’t break,” “Measure 36, measure 36” and so much more nervous chatter. Feet cross the floor; high heels tapping, dress shoes squeaking.
The first thing I see as I walk through the door is the shining silver and brass of the wind and brass sections. Trombones and piccolos gleam as their owners turn them in the light, anxiously inspecting for any speck of spit. Everything seems especially polished tonight, for the performance. Black and white concert dress surges around the room, gathering in knots and standing alone. Skirts swirl around ankles, and bow-ties swing crookedly below stiff collars. Instrument cases line every wall, violins next to basses, basses next to French horns, French horns next to harps. The chairs are a mess: pushed every which way in the haste of the evening.
The room suddenly quiets as performance time arrives. Lines form quickly, then march out into the theater. A small murmuring from the audience is silenced as we enter. Several small, red dots begin to blink in the dimness beyond the circle of light on the stage. Chairs skid across the stage as everyone is seated. I hear an occasional scrape when a music stand is adjusted, an accidental throb of strings. Feet shuffle nervously on the smooth floor, and there are a few stifled coughs over in the wind section. Then the black and white concert dress are in orderly rows, sitting still and expectant.
Presently the concertmaster walks out onto the stage, bows to polite applause, and proceeds to tune the orchestra. A moment of sound rises into the theater, then stills. The concertmaster sits down, and the entire orchestra waits expectantly. Then the conductor appears, strolling down the stage and beaming. The orchestra rises, standing stiff with pride, as a storm of applause greets the arrival. He bows, turns to the concertmaster and shakes hands, then steps onto his platform and opens the score. The orchestra sits hurriedly. A baton rises in the air; excitement rises until you can feel it. Bows quiver, horns glint, fingers are poised, breath is held. The baton falls, and sound surges into the air.
Performance Night
As I walk into the room, a wave of noise and excitement rushes out the door. It is twenty minutes before performance, and everyone is on edge. The first sound I hear is one that is familiar to every musician: tuning instruments. The strange, inexplicable noise that is almost dissonant, yet is rather melodic. It fills the room, rising into the rafters and floating out the door. Under it I can hear difficult passages being rehearsed, as everyone crams in a final moment of practice. Basses are rumbling, trumpets are blaring, flutes are twittering, drums are rolling, and violins are singing. I hear the slap of cases opening and being shoved against the wall, the scrape of a music stand across the floor. As I pass small knots of people, I overhear snatches of conversation: “Are you sure you won’t forget about the grace note,” “I have to go swab it out,” “Mike said he would do it,” “I really hope my string doesn’t break,” “Measure 36, measure 36” and so much more nervous chatter. Feet cross the floor; high heels tapping, dress shoes squeaking.
The first thing I see as I walk through the door is the shining silver and brass of the wind and brass sections. Trombones and piccolos gleam as their owners turn them in the light, anxiously inspecting for any speck of spit. Everything seems especially polished tonight, for the performance. Black and white concert dress surges around the room, gathering in knots and standing alone. Skirts swirl around ankles, and bow-ties swing crookedly below stiff collars. Instrument cases line every wall, violins next to basses, basses next to French horns, French horns next to harps. The chairs are a mess: pushed every which way in the haste of the evening.
The room suddenly quiets as performance time arrives. Lines form quickly, then march out into the theater. A small murmuring from the audience is silenced as we enter. Several small, red dots begin to blink in the dimness beyond the circle of light on the stage. Chairs skid across the stage as everyone is seated. I hear an occasional scrape when a music stand is adjusted, an accidental throb of strings. Feet shuffle nervously on the smooth floor, and there are a few stifled coughs over in the wind section. Then the black and white concert dress are in orderly rows, sitting still and expectant.
Presently the concertmaster walks out onto the stage, bows to polite applause, and proceeds to tune the orchestra. A moment of sound rises into the theater, then stills. The concertmaster sits down, and the entire orchestra waits expectantly. Then the conductor appears, strolling down the stage and beaming. The orchestra rises, standing stiff with pride, as a storm of applause greets the arrival. He bows, turns to the concertmaster and shakes hands, then steps onto his platform and opens the score. The orchestra sits hurriedly. A baton rises in the air; excitement rises until you can feel it. Bows quiver, horns glint, fingers are poised, breath is held. The baton falls, and sound surges into the air.
July 24, 2010
Summer
Crickets. Icy popsicles sliding down the back of one's throat. Heat. Running around in bare feet on the sweet, green grass after dark. Sunshine. Brightly-colored swimsuits hanging over the deck rail to dry. Juicy hot dogs in soft buns drizzled with ketchup and mustard (how burnt the dogs are depends on who's cooking, over here). All of these things say summer. Below are some fun things we enjoy during summer......
1) TP Dad's study
We did this one day while he and Mom were out grocery shopping. I hung loops from the ceiling, while the others strung it all over his radios and bookshelves. As a finishing touch Britt hung a sign that said "Beware" right in front of the door. It was marvelous, and turned out beautifully. :-)
2) Have water fights with hoses
Lately as a relief from the heat, we've taken to going outside after lunch and having water battles. Everyone puts on swimsuits, (and if we're really into it we'll put on goggles) and form sides. Usually it's Britt and John against Suzy, Chrissy, and I. Each team gets a hose that is attached to a spigot and two or three buckets. The larger team gets the handicap of the short hose with bad water pressure, while the smaller team gets the long hose with the super-strong spray nozzle. The hoses are on opposite sides of the driveway, with the trucks forming nice "cover". Then the battle is on!! Everyone has loads of fun squirting hoses and dumping water buckets over heads. The water from the hoses is nice, cold well-water, so you really cool down. Sometimes we'll be really sneaky and sabotage the other team's water supply.
3) Read
Every afternoon we have naptime, or siesta hour, or quiet time, or whatever you like to call it. Everyone picks out books of their choice, lies down on their beds, and reads for an hour or two. Sometimes they'll even fall asleep! Favorite reads this summer: The Happy Hollisters (Suzers), Tom Swift (John), Hank the Cowdog (Britt), Little Women (Chrissy), and MurderIntheClosetWithaKnife (me).
4) Form a broomstick band in the living room
If we're really wild, we'll put in our favorite CD and turn up the volume. Broomsticks and our small stools are used for stand microphones and guitars, while the side tables are pushed together for a drum set. Then we'll have our lead singer, chorus line, and the ever-popular silent, but dancing, drummer. Or we'll have competitions, to see who can rock it up the silliest. It usually lasts for about an hour, until all our energy is spent. Then we have to expend more energy to clean up!
5) Make a river
In past summmers we've dug rivers on the backyard hill. It consists of a small trough, about a foot wide that runs down the hill, ending in a large, shallow pool at the bottom. Then we place the hose at the top, and watch the water course down. Some rivers have been super elaborate, with tiny waterfalls, tunnels, turns, pebble pools, and obstructions. Then we race acorns down, or stage desperate survival attempts with same acorns. The ones that don't make it are thrown into the woods as being too puny. One year we were determined to dig a pool at the end deep enough to wade in, until Mom caught us digging by the propane tank and put a stop to it.
6) Cover as much of the house as possible with huge tents
We'll raid the linen closet for blankets and sheets, take all the available seating, and use all the available floor space to build tents. Our design has evolved through the years, starting with the unreliable use-heavy-blankets-to-make-it-as-dark-as-possible model held together with safety pins, to the present streamlined use-light-sheets-with-ceilings-high-enough-to-kneel-in model that involves strategic use of flat surfaces and weights. Every person has their own apartment and business building, completely furnished. The best ones have "electricity" which basically uses small lamps with long extension cords. They will stay up for as many as 3 days while we sleep in them, until Mom declares that she cannot live with her house like this any longer and will we please put it all away before she has a nervous breakdown.
Five children in a house with lots of odds and ends can usually come up with a lot to do. As long as we clean up afterwards, in the summertime we can pretty much do whatever. The school year, however, is a different story. :-)
1) TP Dad's study
We did this one day while he and Mom were out grocery shopping. I hung loops from the ceiling, while the others strung it all over his radios and bookshelves. As a finishing touch Britt hung a sign that said "Beware" right in front of the door. It was marvelous, and turned out beautifully. :-)
2) Have water fights with hoses
Lately as a relief from the heat, we've taken to going outside after lunch and having water battles. Everyone puts on swimsuits, (and if we're really into it we'll put on goggles) and form sides. Usually it's Britt and John against Suzy, Chrissy, and I. Each team gets a hose that is attached to a spigot and two or three buckets. The larger team gets the handicap of the short hose with bad water pressure, while the smaller team gets the long hose with the super-strong spray nozzle. The hoses are on opposite sides of the driveway, with the trucks forming nice "cover". Then the battle is on!! Everyone has loads of fun squirting hoses and dumping water buckets over heads. The water from the hoses is nice, cold well-water, so you really cool down. Sometimes we'll be really sneaky and sabotage the other team's water supply.
3) Read
Every afternoon we have naptime, or siesta hour, or quiet time, or whatever you like to call it. Everyone picks out books of their choice, lies down on their beds, and reads for an hour or two. Sometimes they'll even fall asleep! Favorite reads this summer: The Happy Hollisters (Suzers), Tom Swift (John), Hank the Cowdog (Britt), Little Women (Chrissy), and MurderIntheClosetWithaKnife (me).
4) Form a broomstick band in the living room
If we're really wild, we'll put in our favorite CD and turn up the volume. Broomsticks and our small stools are used for stand microphones and guitars, while the side tables are pushed together for a drum set. Then we'll have our lead singer, chorus line, and the ever-popular silent, but dancing, drummer. Or we'll have competitions, to see who can rock it up the silliest. It usually lasts for about an hour, until all our energy is spent. Then we have to expend more energy to clean up!
5) Make a river
In past summmers we've dug rivers on the backyard hill. It consists of a small trough, about a foot wide that runs down the hill, ending in a large, shallow pool at the bottom. Then we place the hose at the top, and watch the water course down. Some rivers have been super elaborate, with tiny waterfalls, tunnels, turns, pebble pools, and obstructions. Then we race acorns down, or stage desperate survival attempts with same acorns. The ones that don't make it are thrown into the woods as being too puny. One year we were determined to dig a pool at the end deep enough to wade in, until Mom caught us digging by the propane tank and put a stop to it.
6) Cover as much of the house as possible with huge tents
We'll raid the linen closet for blankets and sheets, take all the available seating, and use all the available floor space to build tents. Our design has evolved through the years, starting with the unreliable use-heavy-blankets-to-make-it-as-dark-as-possible model held together with safety pins, to the present streamlined use-light-sheets-with-ceilings-high-enough-to-kneel-in model that involves strategic use of flat surfaces and weights. Every person has their own apartment and business building, completely furnished. The best ones have "electricity" which basically uses small lamps with long extension cords. They will stay up for as many as 3 days while we sleep in them, until Mom declares that she cannot live with her house like this any longer and will we please put it all away before she has a nervous breakdown.
Five children in a house with lots of odds and ends can usually come up with a lot to do. As long as we clean up afterwards, in the summertime we can pretty much do whatever. The school year, however, is a different story. :-)
July 15, 2010
La Folia
Finally, the day has arrived! I have started learning to play La Folia!! As you can tell, I am super excited. :-) Below is a music video of La Folia that some fellow violin students made last summer. They had a lot of fun making it, and I have a lot of fun watching it.
June 18, 2010
Street-Performing
So, I needed to raise five hundred dollars for Suzuki camp in August. Although babysitting is lots of fun, it wasn't bringing in enough money fast enough. Several fellow violin students had gone downtown to play their violins and made some good money. I will confess it took me six months to get up the courage to try it (For three months the snowy weather was a good excuse, however). Finally, after talking to several people about it, I decided to try playing for just one, tiny hour.
Mom dropped me off at the corner, and I walked up the street to where my friends had told me was the best place. Phew, there was a bench open, so I set my case on it and got out my violin. Better start with something super easy, yet cheerful, I thought. So the clear strains of Minuet 2 floated out into the air. My teacher had told me to smile, so I tried but ended up with some sort of weird lip-stretching. I licked them, and tried again, this time achieving a small grin. The piece ended, and I quickly started Musette. I kept trying to smile, and finally after my fifth piece I could do it without appearing to be an escapee from an insane asylum. I was starting to relax. Several people had smiled back at me. Well, even if I don't make any money, at least I've made people smile today.
Then, wonder of wonders, a man walking up the street dropped three quarters into my case. Bless you! I cried silently. My playing took on new zest as I saw those three quarters. Then a rather tough-looking man came by and dropped a few dollar bills in. "Keep music in your life," he told me, and walked on. Soon people were getting the idea, and dollar bills started filling up my case. I played piece after piece, repeating my favorite ones over, and smiling as wide as I could.
Eventually someone came up to me, and told me I better do something before my money started blowing away. I looked down at my case, and to my surprise, I couldn't see the bottom! Rummaging through the compartments, I found a few cases of old rosin, and I threw those in to weigh the money down. Before enough time had passed to seem an hour, I saw Mom driving down the road. I finished my piece, and packed up. Counting my money in the car, I had made forty-three dollars!
As of today, I am about two hundred dollars closer to my goal. Now all I have to worry about is practicing! God is so good!
"Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name." Psalm 103:1
Mom dropped me off at the corner, and I walked up the street to where my friends had told me was the best place. Phew, there was a bench open, so I set my case on it and got out my violin. Better start with something super easy, yet cheerful, I thought. So the clear strains of Minuet 2 floated out into the air. My teacher had told me to smile, so I tried but ended up with some sort of weird lip-stretching. I licked them, and tried again, this time achieving a small grin. The piece ended, and I quickly started Musette. I kept trying to smile, and finally after my fifth piece I could do it without appearing to be an escapee from an insane asylum. I was starting to relax. Several people had smiled back at me. Well, even if I don't make any money, at least I've made people smile today.
Then, wonder of wonders, a man walking up the street dropped three quarters into my case. Bless you! I cried silently. My playing took on new zest as I saw those three quarters. Then a rather tough-looking man came by and dropped a few dollar bills in. "Keep music in your life," he told me, and walked on. Soon people were getting the idea, and dollar bills started filling up my case. I played piece after piece, repeating my favorite ones over, and smiling as wide as I could.
Eventually someone came up to me, and told me I better do something before my money started blowing away. I looked down at my case, and to my surprise, I couldn't see the bottom! Rummaging through the compartments, I found a few cases of old rosin, and I threw those in to weigh the money down. Before enough time had passed to seem an hour, I saw Mom driving down the road. I finished my piece, and packed up. Counting my money in the car, I had made forty-three dollars!
As of today, I am about two hundred dollars closer to my goal. Now all I have to worry about is practicing! God is so good!
"Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name." Psalm 103:1
May 16, 2010
Sweet Sixteen
April 30th was the big day; I turned sixteen!! The celebration was spread out over the next few days, since Mom had to work. It made it all the more special, because each day I had something fun to look forward to.
Finally we were able to walk through the turnstiles. As everyone went in front of me, the lady would ask them what their birthday was. She came to me, "Today!" I said excitedly. "Oh my goodness, yes! I was looking right at it, and I didn't see. Happy birthday, my dear."
John and Britt had raincoats on, so they were brave (or foolhardy, depending on who you are) and ventured out in the rain. So we waited, and waited, and waited some more. I reflected that we could very well be here for the rest of our lives. Fortunately Daddy had had the foresight to provide us with nuts, so we wouldn't starve. Finally it stopped raining, and we waded out into a stream of brightly colored ponchoes. The park employees had informed us that no rides would open until the storm was at least 15 miles away, so we went across the swinging bridge and into Grandfather's Mansion. 
We couldn't find the lease, so we headed over to Fire in the Hole again, to go help get rid of those pesky Baldknobbers. We emerged, shaken from our near run-in with a train, to be greeted with more rain. The Saloon being nearby, we stepped in on the porch for a bit. Daddy got hungry (big surprise), and we scittered across to the Lumber Camp and purchased a funnel cake. It was devoured in seconds, and we waited about ten minutes more. Finally, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, so the eensy weensy spider went up the spout again. But instead of climbing up the spout we were finally able to enjoy our lovely day at the park. 
By this time, most of the people had left, so we were able to walk right on to every ride. On Thunderation we met a Mr. Matt, who assured us quite gravely that his name was really Ttam. Suzy discovered a hearse in the Fireman's Cemetery and was rather tickled. Daddy taught us all how to jump and click our heels together. Suzy and I raced against John, Britt, and Chrissy on the teacups; we didn't win, because I was laughing so hard I couldn't spin the wheel (which was probably a good thing, because I felt slightly seasick at the end). And I found this crazy lady in a pavilion. Altogether, it was a pretty awesome birthday. 
On the actual day, Friday, Daddy took us to Silver Dollar City. It took awhile, but after several false starts, and running over to Mom at work to get our passes, then McDonald's to get some lunch, we were finally there! It was a good thing the park was open late that day, or I would have been seriously upset. :-) As was to be expected, Daddy got a phone call right as we walked into the park. During the discourse that ensued, us kids had fun taking some crazy pictures. Occasionally a fiery phrase reached our ears, but it was no matter. Once you started Daddy on government, it was hard to get him stopped. So we patiently waited.
Finally we were able to walk through the turnstiles. As everyone went in front of me, the lady would ask them what their birthday was. She came to me, "Today!" I said excitedly. "Oh my goodness, yes! I was looking right at it, and I didn't see. Happy birthday, my dear."The others wanted to ride Wildfire, so I volunteered to sit with Suzers. Then we went and did Fire In the Hole. On our way to the City we had noticed some dark clouds, so when we came out of Fire in the Hole and raced over to Powderkeg we were not surprised to hear that lightening had been spotted, and the ride was closed. No problemo, we figured, let's just go on Thunderation. We arrived just in time to see an employee hooking a cable across the entrance. After suitable inquiries we discovered that all rides were being shut down until further notice. So we walked down the hill to the glass shop, where us girls oohed and aahed while Daddy listened to his radio. By the time we were bored of looking at all the untouchable glass things it had started sprinkling slightly. I asked Daddy if we could go to the pottery shop, since we could watch the potter work, and he agreed. It was raining a little harder as we walked down, and soon after we walked in the front door it came down in sheets!
John and Britt had raincoats on, so they were brave (or foolhardy, depending on who you are) and ventured out in the rain. So we waited, and waited, and waited some more. I reflected that we could very well be here for the rest of our lives. Fortunately Daddy had had the foresight to provide us with nuts, so we wouldn't starve. Finally it stopped raining, and we waded out into a stream of brightly colored ponchoes. The park employees had informed us that no rides would open until the storm was at least 15 miles away, so we went across the swinging bridge and into Grandfather's Mansion. 
We couldn't find the lease, so we headed over to Fire in the Hole again, to go help get rid of those pesky Baldknobbers. We emerged, shaken from our near run-in with a train, to be greeted with more rain. The Saloon being nearby, we stepped in on the porch for a bit. Daddy got hungry (big surprise), and we scittered across to the Lumber Camp and purchased a funnel cake. It was devoured in seconds, and we waited about ten minutes more. Finally, out came the sun and dried up all the rain, so the eensy weensy spider went up the spout again. But instead of climbing up the spout we were finally able to enjoy our lovely day at the park. 
By this time, most of the people had left, so we were able to walk right on to every ride. On Thunderation we met a Mr. Matt, who assured us quite gravely that his name was really Ttam. Suzy discovered a hearse in the Fireman's Cemetery and was rather tickled. Daddy taught us all how to jump and click our heels together. Suzy and I raced against John, Britt, and Chrissy on the teacups; we didn't win, because I was laughing so hard I couldn't spin the wheel (which was probably a good thing, because I felt slightly seasick at the end). And I found this crazy lady in a pavilion. Altogether, it was a pretty awesome birthday. 
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)