little boy wall art

I have been meaning to do this for a very long time. Thank you to an artistic and musical acquaintance at church whose word art and writing have been so inspirational! This woman does some amazing chalkboard art, not to mention crafting some incredibly moving and transparent blog posts. Her book is going to be a must-read. My attempt at word art is far from as polished and professional as hers, but, alas, here it is.

When Joshua was born, I wanted to be sure that I chose some meaningful scriptures for him to internalize as he grew. Some that stood out were Joshua 1:9 and Hebrews 13:5-6. I have been repeating parts of the Hebrews verse to him each night as I put him down to sleep; it seems soothing to him to hear again and again that God is always with him, that we can trust Him, that we don't need to be afraid.

Ever since I knew I was pregnant with Joshua, I had been praying that my baby might be a leader, a difference-maker in this world, someone who would bring glory to God and do it with humility. The name "Joshua" is perfect for my little guy - someone that God will certainly use to lead others. And boy, is that leadership potential apparent in toddlerhood. AmIright, parents? I have a little Director on my hands who is learning and being disciplined each day to become a self-sufficient, example-setting, people-loving leader. This is a messy process, friends.

His room is loosely decorated in a nautical theme, with a pretty Monet poster, navy grommet top curtains, a vintage U. S. navy towel in light blue and white, a blue and silver banner that I made, and some Nautica kids bedding - all with white walls and a wood floor - so that I can change his room theme easily, later.  This word art completes the theme, I think, adding just the right amount of red. Someday soon, I hope to make him an oversized letter "J" pillow to toss on his soon-to-be-a-toddler-bed.

Without further ado:

lately

Lately, my days have been settling into a semblance of normal. We have a bit of a rhythm going, and it's like this:

Wake to a delightful little one's smiles promptly at 6:45. Or 6. Or 5. Or 8am, on that blessed day called Monday (thank you, Lord).

Change the little guy into daytime clothes and plunk him in the pack and play while I feed the cat, empty the dehumidifier, and make breakfast and Brad's lunch.

After we eat breakfast, Brad heads off to work, and Joshie has a nap while I have a shower. At least, the shower part is a goal! The nap is usually only about 30-45 minutes long. Sometimes Joshua refuses to sleep and we just wait it out until nap #2, at about 11 or 11:30.

Morning play time sometimes means we head outside, or that I put Josh in the Ergo carrier on my back while I throw a load of laundry in. Sometimes it means all I can handle is turning on something classical on Youtube while the baby plays with blocks on the floor and pulls the cat's tail. And fur. And whiskers. And ears. Oscar is such a tolerant, lovey cat.

The midday nap is often the "long" nap. Long for this baby means about 1.5 hours, usually interrupted halfway through. He likes to know I'm still there...I think! The long nap means I get to rest, myself, and enjoy some quiet lunch time.

Afternoons consist of more play time for Joshua, which means I'm often holding his little hands to help him walk, carrying him all over (hefty 20lb load, mind you), and keeping him from crawling over to electrical cords and teething on Daddy's shoes. Sometimes I'm able to fit in some crunches on the floor while he's playing, or I can pay a couple bills online, or write part of an email. Sometimes I'm able to snap some pictures of him and continue to slowly learn about shooting in manual mode.

Sometimes the baby will nap at about 4, especially if the midday nap was short. This is also a short nap, since he goes to bed at 6:45 or 7. Having him asleep by 7:30 is the hard-and-fast bedtime, but he's often tired enough to be asleep by 6:45.

Then, I blog. If I have the energy. And sometimes, a blog post (like this one) takes days to complete.

But I need to do this. I need to have time where I do something normal and fulfilling for me. More than just taking a shower, but taking time to be creative, to decorate, to write, to think, to read. Introverted, expressive, thought-filled me needs this.

Whew.

And then I catch what sleep I can during the wakeful night. And count my many blessings. This, my friends, is my "schedule."

personality, much?

This big cheese is already eight months old.

Sitting well.

Pulling up to stand.

Walking with help.

Cruising.

Making his pleasure or displeasure known. Loudly.

Scooting on his belly - so fast!

Has two teeth on the bottom.

 Says "kitty," "hi," and "dada." 

Loves peas, pears, nectarines, and sweet potatoes. Oatmeal, not so much.

Has sooo much personality.

Enjoys bath time and splashing in the pool.

Hates nap time and bed time. 

Loves meeting new people and smiling as we walk around town.


What a blessing you are, Joshua! I'm so thankful to be your mommy. 

before Baby bucket list

(just a few) Goals:

Make a taggie blanket, nursing cover, and an infant-size vest/hat/bootie set for our little guy
Make (unnamed projects: 6 knitted projects down, 2 of 4 sewn to go) for my sisters-in-law; their little babies are boys, too!
Go visit Niagara Falls - next weekend!
Knit something for charity - done
Decide on and make Christmas presents for the family (many done, 6 or so to go)
Make sugar cookies to freeze for Christmas - done
Enjoy more uninterrupted dinner-and-a-movie nights with the hubby
Prepare and freeze some meals to have after Baby is born
Get up-to-date on my scrapbooking, because I'll likely not have much energy to do it when he's born - caught up to this past April...
Learn how to use my nice camera in manual mode so that I can get great pictures of Baby in any lighting
...and so much more!

our living street, or, on the street where we live.

We live on a

DEAD END


road. There's a big yellow sign with bold black lettering to prove it. I find that somewhat insulting.

We live.

There must be better terminology for streets without a connection on both ends.

• no outlet
• no exit
• quiet street
• no through traffic
• one way in, same way out

I guess this is not really a big deal. But to prove that things LIVE on our dead end street, here's a little walk up and down our road!

This is my tiny little shade garden, full of little annuals that I picked up at Lowe's for just $5.

...pink begonias,

...impatiens in pink, white, and bright pink, and some coleus for color.

Right in front of our porch, we added some pachysandra.

Here's a better view of the little pachysandra garden in front of our porch.

Across the street is our little parking lot. There's a large vine growing with these beautiful white flowers. I don't know what they are, but they're pretty, and fragrant!

As we walk down the little street, there are little surprises, like this forget-me-not, tucked under a bush.

The house nearest the end of the street has a few pretty rose bushes that peek out through their fence.

See the little bee?

Spray roses spilling out onto the sidewalk. If they're on the sidewalk, I can pick them, right? Right? Oh.

Today, there was also this moth...butterfly? as I walked along.

Such bright pink roses!

Doesn't that just shout "summer"? Love the coral pink/bright blue contrast.

Butterfly rests for a bit...

Weeds Wildflowers growing in the sidewalk cracks

Behind an abandoned brick store, there are these pink beauties. Is this bee balm?

Looks like a cluster of pink, glittery stars to me!

Growing in the gravel...

And, to remind us that this is, indeed, the city: broken bits of green glass, glittering in the sunshine.

Still somehow pretty.

Back at our apartment! 

Thanks for joining me on a walk around our very living street!

on moving

There's a C.S. Lewis quote somewhere that I can't find right now, but he said something like this:

The new home is quite tiresome until its new ways become as habitual as the old home.

 

Things like, say, knowing which light switches turn on the light in the hallway, how far to close the bathroom door before the hall door will open wide enough, how firmly to turn the handle, finding a light for above the sink, discovering the best times to open/close blinds, where to go running, how to get to the grocery store, finding a church to be a part of, getting used to the smells, the sounds, the sights, the neighbors...

We've relocated three times in our four years of marriage - the first to a just-outside-of-town, small apartment near Hubby's grad school (exciting, tiring, uneventful), the second to a rural 2-bedroom house near my grad school (terribly difficult, exhausting), and the third, just now, to an unfamiliar city (both a relief and overwhelming, but mostly uneventful).

The process is long and tiring. From packing up boxes and finding enough bubble wrap and tape, to cleaning the old (after packing) and the new place (before unpacking), carrying heavy loads more times than we thought we could, to the actual adjusting and unpacking and adventurous discovering, I really have a very emotional time getting through this moving thing.

Maybe it's being pregnant, but packing things away was both cathartic (textbooks, dishes I don't use, off-season clothes, thrift store pile) and emotional (the beautiful clay pot from our church, the photos, the hubby's shoes). I had some help from my mom and my in-laws, and I was thankful for that. At the same time, it was hard to accept help! We all have our ideas about how things should be done and where they should go, and it's hard to just let things be. For a while, I couldn't find the boxes for my everyday china, and it distressed me. The china was packed away in other boxes, while I ran out of boxes for other things!

And on the "having help" thing - people keep asking where I want things, how to put things away. Hubby asks questions to which I thought he should have already known the answers. The swiffer and the box of candles are in the attic instead of downstairs. The table linens were packed with the rugs. Some power strips were packed with a Pyrex dish.

I love having family and friends that care and help and ask and offer and just do things for us. At the same time, after I've been packing, cleaning, lifting, driving, lifting, and unpacking, it's so hard to be patient. I hope that I handled most things gracefully. I sure know when I didn't, and I hope my family will understand.

So, I'm sure you're wondering about this move, right? Well, we got the moving truck, on time, and with our discount applied from the last (terrible) moving experience. I didn't post about that one because I was so upset and afraid I would say something regrettable online. Anyway, we were loaded up and ready for pizza by about 12:45pm. We ate, took last minute pictures of the interior condition, and left.

Mom and I arrived first at the apartment at about 3pm, with the kitties in tow. We brought them inside and put them in our new office space so that they would be out of the way for all the craziness. I gave Mom a mini-tour of the place: office, hall, living room, bedroom, walk-in closet/baby's room, kitchen, bathroom, deck, and...the attic.

Just as I began to open the attic door, there were footsteps! Then scratching. And banging on the door, and more scratching. We got pretty nervous - what if it was a rabid raccoon, or a really big squirrel, or.... So I called the landlord, and asked for an exterminator. This was a holiday weekend, on a Saturday, so response was kinda slow. We moved in boxes anyway, filling the deck with the things to go to the attic once the animal was removed.

Our friends, Meg and Bob, showed up to help us unload. Thanks, guys! My parents, my in-laws, my brothers and their wives, and my sister were all there to help us, too. We couldn't have done it without you all!

By about 5pm, the animal exterminator had come - and removed the poor animal: a very dehydrated, very sad black kitty. The cat had belonged to the previous tenants, who had moved out over a month and a half ago. They claim that they couldn't find the cat when they moved, and he was just left behind! The poor thing had been living in the attic for the entire time. Very sad, indeed. We hope that he has a new family to take care of him.

The rest of the move-in was mostly fine. There are some areas of the house that have been badly stained and stink-ified from the poor kitty's bathroom needs, and we're having those addressed by the landlord. I've cleaned my best, but the scent seems to have sunk into the wood.

Our new neighbors downstairs seem friendly, and we're getting things put in their new places! Tomorrow, my family will be driving through on their way to a wedding, and we'll have them over for dinner. We're hoping they'll see a huge improvement in the place!

We're thankful for the ways that God has provided for us - financially, physically, emotionally. We're grateful to have a decent place to live, a landlord that seems to care about his rental units, and nice neighbors. We're hoping for a great stay here, and that God leads us clearly to our next steps in our life together.

an hour of super

Last night, I arrived at my house at 5:25pm with a plan: make dinner and go back to school for rehearsal. And the plan actually happened as planned.

This is an account of the hour of super.

I fed the cats and petted them as I walked in. I allowed myself time to actually use the bathroom (it had been a busy day), and then to the kitchen I went. First, I put water on to boil for making rice. I squished a clove of garlic into the water with my garlic press. I preheated my oven to 400 and took the chicken drumsticks out of the fridge. I greased my glass 8"x8" pan and arranged the chicken in it - all to one side. I cut up half an onion and arranged those on top of the chicken. I found the whole carrots and sliced them lengthwise into sticks, and they went on the opposite side. Lesson in quick cooking: use pre-made sauces.

I pulled out the Sweet Baby Ray's barbecue sauce, and smothered the chicken and onions in it. Next, I got out the creamy Caesar dressing and drizzled the carrots with it. I topped those with some Italian bread crumbs and put the whole pan into the oven.

Then, I turned around to my boiling pot of water and added brown rice.

Here comes the most super of parts.

I realized that there were two overripe bananas on the counter, and I was immediately inspired to make banana bread. Well, muffins. Out came the Betty Crocker cookbook, and I began. Oil, reduced amount of milk, eggs - wait, there are no eggs in this house because I'm a grad student who doesn't have time to shop for groceries. Literally. No. Time.

Is there a recipe for banana muffins without eggs? (I wondered this to myself, going over to my laptop.) There is!! I found it here. I'll also post for you what I did, because, as you know, I don't follow directions very well in recipes.

Banana Muffins Without Milk or Eggs (amazing, I know!)
1/2 c. shortening (I used Crisco)
3/4 c. granulated sugar
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp cinnamon
1 1/2 c. flour
1 tsp vanilla
2 smashed overripe bananas
1/3 c. chocolate chips (I used Nestle's dark chocolate chips)

First, cream the shortening and sugar. Add the vanilla. Mix in the flour, salt, baking soda, and cinnamon. The dough will be rather stiff at this point. Add the smashed bananas - it should look better now! Spoon into prepared muffin tins. Bake at 400 for 18-20 minutes. Watch carefully.

The muffins came out dense, moist, and fabulous. I discovered that parchment paper can be used to sub for paper cupcake liners - effective.

Also, my dinner was done in sufficient time for me to eat it. Win.

And I was on time for rehearsal.

Feeling (momentarily) super.

laundry mishaps

Today was another beautiful autumn day - sunny, 70's, bright colors - and perfect for hanging laundry out to dry. Aaaah. One last chance to wear my summer sundresses and white ballet flats. Yes, I wear white after Labor Day. I never said I was a fashion queen.

I gathered everything up to bring in as the sun was setting, and noticed a golf-ball sized black stain on my tan fitted sheet: black walnut. Unfortunately, in someone's great wisdom, they not only managed to hang the laundry line under a tree (read: many bugs and spiders, possibility of bird poop), but they chose the only black walnut tree on the property. I am so glad we only rent this place. It's a fine place. It's a pretty location, and convenient to school. I'm just glad it's not mine.

Don't get me wrong. I love toasted walnuts and pretty furniture made of walnut wood. The squirrels outside constantly entertain my cats with their antics to get at the meat of the nuts, even carrying the whole, un-peeled and un-hulled nut in their mouths. The walnuts are bigger than their heads, mind you. This is pretty comic.

The problem is this: when walnuts are ripe, they have a bright green, spongy, wrinkly skin that cracks and bleeds a terribly black/brown dye, which is quite useful for things like

A. Staining the back patio and roof in a very random polka-dot pattern
B. Dyeing cloth the old fashioned way
C. Inadvertently staining one's clothing
D. All of the above.

I'm pretty upset, but this gives me a bit of hope: Cornell University has done a study on stain removal. Hallelujah! There's even a special section on page 11 of the PDF that explains how to remove black walnut stains. Cornell does a lot of great things, and I trust their research. Let's see how it turns out together, eh?

For black walnut, they say to use a solution of hand dishwashing detergent and warm water with a few drops of white vinegar to break up the stain. I've done that, and I'm waiting for the nasty blackness to seep into my beat-up cotton dishtowel. I might have to throw this one away when I'm done.

I'll keep you posted...

...update: the stain is almost completely gone! I treated the stain for 24 hours, blotting and re-wetting and blotting and re-wetting... and then I washed it again. The stain is now almost imperceptible. Hooray! Thanks, Cornell.

prototype: stand mixer cover version 1.0

I really would like a fancy-pants mixer, like the KitchenAid Artisan. That's not in the budget. If I had one, I would buy a pretty quilted cover for it, like this one. I have, in fact, created a wish list at Bed Bath & Beyond for that very item. And more. Someday.

However, I do like my vintage Sunbeam stand mixer. And if I cover it, maybe people will think I have a super-nice mixer. I know it doesn't matter. I just care anyway.

Here's version 1.0, made of a vintage sheet that also lives in my house as a bag and an apron.
First, I measured the length of my machine - about 14". It's 4" wide at the top, and 10" wide at the bowl. Side pieces ended up being about 13" tall by about 12" long. I need to add a little more ease for my final cover - probably an extra inch added to every measurement. I used 1/4" seams, and I think I'll stick with that.
I think I'll also add a second layer of fabric and some batting, and do some practice quilting before I put the pieces together. Just vertical lines. Nothing fancy.
For the top, I tapered the piece from 4" wide at the front to a point at the back. It seems to work well, but again, I need slightly more width. Will do that next time. And maybe I'll add some pretty piping.

But for now? My mixer is cute and covered. Win.

Blubarb pie

As I drove home from church on Sunday, I made up my mind to stop at one of the local farm stands to buy blueberries. 'Tis the season, you know.

I pulled over at the first one I saw, and opened the cooler, which sat atop an old horse-drawn cart. Four soggy quarts of blueberries awaited, but I was not swayed! I bought one and brought it home, rounding corners very carefully so that I wouldn't spill. Success!

There were two rather ripe bananas on the counter, so banana blueberry bread ensued. Next, blueberry rhubarb pie! Delicious.

I love summer.

...and pizza, too

My previously loved pizza crust recipe, which requires the use of the bread machine for rising and mixing and such (not a bad thing, just a time consuming operation), may be replaced by good old Betty Crocker's.

Hers involves the dissolving of one packet of yeast in a cup of warm water, to which is added 2.5 cups of flour, 1/2 teaspoon each of salt and sugar, and 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil. Mix for only 20 strokes or so. Let it sit for 5 minutes, then spread the very sticky dough out on two generously olive-oiled baking sheets with olive-oiled hands. Add toppings.

Put it in a 400 degrees F oven for about 20 minutes, and it's golden. And crispy...and delicious... and...

gone.

Haydn + Candyman +Whitacre

= a weekend full of singing.

Add to that some Gjeilo and Faure, a bit of Hindemith, and you have an idea for the choral goodness my week held. Here's an overview of the week.

Monday was my all-out panic day, when I realized that I had done way less than necessary to gracefully make it through the week. Much laundry and last-minute homework ensued.

Tuesday, I arrived at school at 9 am, packing my day full of rehearsals, classes, and research for the presentation on Hindemith's "Lilacs" Requiem that was due Wednesday. I pored through books in the music library, got recordings and a DVD, and took three books out of the main library to round out my research. Unfortunately, there was no score of the music available, so I listened to a movement of the piece over and over again to analyze it. Throughout the day, I spent between five and six hours preparing for this 50-minute presentation. 2 hours of rehearsal, a lunch break, a quick dinner break, and 2 classes later, I was heading home at about 9pm. 12 hour day. I did not sleep well.

Wednesday was another "early" day, arriving at school by 8:15am to set up for my presentation. Our class is held in the recital hall so that it is conducive to watching a projected presentation and listening to music, while having a big lecture-style program to provide extra practice for our future professional lives. Now, I would like to say that I was happy when my professor announced that he would like me to take only about 20 minutes for the presentation instead of the 50 allotted, but I was really upset, since I had spent so much time the day before in preparation. I was angry that there was an irreparable buzz in the sound system and that there was no music score available. To top it off, the professor took the next 30 minutes to "chat" with the three of us about the ways he's expanding the conducting program next year to include five conductors instead of two.

Hold it right there. I auditioned here because it is a small program, wherein conductors receive ample podium time and one-on-one attention from the director. These changes make me nervous about the quality of the experiences available to me. I am partly frustrated because the conducting level and organizational skill of one of next year's students is rather low, and I don't understand why he was accepted. I have a further rant to insert here, but I'll refrain from publishing it.

Meanwhile, back on the home front, we were planning our happy weekend trip to see my brother, his fiance, and my sister at their college (a 7 hour round trip). Unfortunately, every hotel in town and the surrounding 15-20 miles was booked. What??? I did a Google search for bed & breakfast places in the area and sent my hubby two links. I felt incredibly stressed, angry at the morning's situations, and a bit nervous for the evening's conducting engagements.

After four rehearsals and some free time (during which I worked on the Theory project that was, evidently, now late), I changed to my black Anne Klein suit. I quickly applied makeup (rare for me to do my makeup at all) and put my hair in a twist. My husband and my mom and dad soon arrived with dinner and flowers for me - yay! Perhaps this was not going to be such a bad evening.

The first concert, a composer's recital in which I was to conduct a choral piece, was about to begin - 6:30 was the start time - when the electricity suddenly went out. Emergency lights were on, and someone relayed the message that there was a tornado warning. Really? Now? We waited a few minutes, but there was not a foreseeable timeline for the return of power. We decided to sing in the most well-lighted area of the music building, which is an atrium/lobby area with a skylight and a view of the second and third floors of the building. The men and women stood on opposite sides of the room, looking over the balcony of the second floor. We pushed a piano to the middle of the balcony, and I stood beside the piano to conduct so both groups of singers could see me. Flexibility was forced upon me, and things actually worked well. The group sounded good, the composer had his premiere, and I conducted from memory. As the recital wore on, the building got progressively hotter and stuffier, as it was a very warm, thunderously rainy day.

The second concert of Wednesday evening was a Men's and Women's Choir concert, in which I conducted two pieces for the Women's Choir. We were prepared to give the concert in the ever-increasing dark, but the power returned in time for the 8:00 concert to begin. Whew. I did well - I was proud of how the choir responded to me and of the sound they achieved, though I did have my pieces on the conductor's stand for a security blanket of sorts. I just felt too stressed to try it memorized, even though I think I could have done it. My long-suffering parents and husband were proud of me, and I had many encouraging words from other professors, for which I'm thankful. Thus ended the evening at about 10pm. A 13 hour day. Though I went to bed right after I got home, I had fitful sleep and saw every hour on the clock but 5 and 6. Sad.

Thursday began with a stress-relieving breakfast in bed, complete with bagels and orange juice from my parents. Mmmm! I had a couple of rehearsals, including a 2-hour dress rehearsal for the following night's concert. Not a bad day, but I still came home late (no fun).

Friday was full again, beginning at 9 with homework, followed by rehearsals. I did some gardening in the afternoon (read: hacked at dirt with a rake, pulling up weeds so I could plant seeds), which was a nice thing to do, but dumb for concert night. I got to the concert and realized that I had pulled a muscle in my back that hurts when I breathe deeply to sing. Dumb, dumb, dumb. The concert, presenting the high school choral festival pieces, a visiting choir, a Dvorak symphony, and the first two parts of the Haydn Creation, came in at a whopping 2.5 hours in length. I wasn't home until about 10:30pm.

After arriving home and chugging some tea, I (over)packed for our weekend trip. We left at 7:45am the next morning, making a quick stop at Mickey D's for McMuffins and a wildberry smoothie (so good). We arrived at about 11am and celebrated my sister's and grandfather's shared birthday with cake, pie, cookies, and an all-campus concert of choral music. This was rather fun, informal choral music, but my brother's arrangement of Candyman from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory stole the show. His a cappella men's group won both their division and the highest award at the show - so proud of him. We even squeezed in a visit to the nearby outlet mall, where I got a spring yellow Gap cami for a whopping $6 and a Banana Republic sleeveless white dress shirt for $13. Yay!

Our bed and breakfast stay was lovely! (I slept so soundly.) We were surprised to find that their rates are so reasonable, and loved that the room was so adorably decorated. Well, I enjoyed that. The hubby was happy that the bed was firm and that the shower was hot. :o) Breakfast there was delicious - whole wheat waffles and fresh fruit, with Twinings tea, served on pretty china. Happy Linnea! If you'll excuse my blurry pictures from my husband's Droid, here's an idea of what it was like:
*note the over-stuffed too-big suitcase and extra pink jackets at the foot of the cute, shabby-chic bed. the pastel pink/green/white braided rug to the left is from Target, and the room was full of antiques - a vanity, lamps, a washbasin with mirror and candles, the iron bed. Even the bathroom was pretty, with brand-new Kohler sink, toilet, and whirlpool tub. Sweet. And free-to-use shampoos, bodywash, hairdryer, iron... like a mini store available to us. I chose Bath & Body Works honeysuckle bodywash for my shower. Happy. The room was so pretty. Here's a view of the light-pink bathroom:
We ended the weekend with a commissioning service for my sister's 9-week mission trip to India this summer, followed by an excellent choir concert (works by Brahms, Whitacre, Purcell, and Christiansen, among others). The trip home was long and rainy...

glad to be home!

home sweet home

For the past 17 days, I have either been gone on choir tour or at a choral conference. 2.5 of those days were spent at home doing laundry and packing and squeezing in meal preparation and cleaning and classes and papers and - zoom - off to a conference.

I managed to not get sick on choir tour, which was a relative miracle. Most of the choir members did get sick, which is unusual. We had fevers, coughs, head colds, runny noses, and sore throats. I was pretty fatigued at the end of tour, and didn't have time to catch up on sleep.

I rushed off to the conference early in the morning, starting off a half hour late because of a certain travel companion whom we shall call A. During the conference itself, I was extremely emotional, stressed, and frustrated with A, who is both insecure and overconfident.

Side note: self-deprecating comments annoy me, especially when they're not true or unfounded. It also annoys me when someone spends an entire 12-hour car ride talking about how he's so great at choral music when he spent most of his undergraduate work studying and performing on an unrelated instrument, and has yet to be accepted to the choral conducting master's program at any school. It also bothers me that when A was driving, he would often take both hands off the wheel to "conduct" a portion of a currently playing piece. Um, the ensemble can't see you. And if you haven't studied the score, it's really not worth trying to conduct what you've heard as it's happening. Two, you're on a busy interstate. Three, the brakes on your car are grinding. DON'T take your hands off the wheel. Pay attention. Stop bragging. And by all means, do not turn on Eminem and then try to call it something that pleases God. And don't tell me about your previous girlfriends, what you've done, and how you want to start this new relationship with some girl from choir. I don't care.

So I was stressed, emotional, angry, tired, and carrying germs from choir tour. And visiting a city with which I am relatively unfamiliar. And also the only person in the group who had been to any professional conference before.

It was a recipe for disaster and disappointment in many ways.

However, I truly enjoyed seeing Helmuth Rilling conduct Mendelssohn's Elijah, an oratorio in German. It was excellent - beautifully sung, played, and portrayed. I loved it. We also attended a gorgeous, worshipful church service planned by Anton Armstrong, director of the St. Olaf choir. We heard many wonderful choral ensembles from across the country and experienced many different styles of choirs, music, and stage interpretations. I learned how important it is to me to appear professional onstage, to practice bowing, and to have a good suit so that my behind looks as nice as my smile side. I learned what choral sounds I like, what choreography works, and how formations change the sound of an ensemble. I went to music reading sessions that broadened my knowledge of repertoire, and picked up free perusal copies at the exhibits. Ooo! And free chocolate at the exhibits. They know how to get you...

All this to say: I'm so glad I'm back home. I'm so tired, my throat is sore, and I came home early from school today so that I could nap and do homework. I feel stressed because I'm behind in school work and I can't afford to be sick. My husband has been taking care of me, and I'm so thankful for him. I love being together with him, and missed him so much these past 17 days. Thanks to God for the blessing He's given me in my husband!

not there yet

My husband and I enjoy watching "House Hunters" and DIY home shows on Hulu. We love to talk about the features we like, the colors, furniture, design flaws and successes, and to plan our future together. We even search sometimes for "dream" houses in cities we might move to. We talk about kinds of couches, styles of lamps, and wall colors. We imagine buying a reliable, newer car and settling into our very own place with pretty new appliances, remodeled bathroom and kitchen, and beautiful bedrooms. We imagine lots of light, open spaces, well-maintained landscaping, traditional touches, and updated flair. We imagine not having to live with old faux wood paneling and worn out carpet, outdated appliances, leaky windows, and wobbly outlets.

But we're not there yet. We live in the world where buying apples AND grapes is a treat, where we pay a lot of money to live in a (hardly updated, but) nice place (with plenty of space and a garage - thankfully), and where it's a big deal if we go out on a date once a month. We live in a time where we don't have enough curtains for the windows, we can't pay to slipcover the couch, and we have to try to get the stains out of the carpet, because it's staying. We have mismatched and stand-in furniture, though most of the pieces belong to us. We have a piano, but it's old and broken, and we can't pay to have it tuned right now.

Dreaming can be so bittersweet! My friend, Kristen O., wrote a beautiful post about this very sentiment. In every event, whether it's happy, sad, frustrating, or exhilarating, there's a twinge of sorrow with the joy (or vice versa).

We're happy together, and we have so many blessings! We're blessed with each other. We have one car that works, electricity that has been paid for, running water, internet, enough food, and phones. We have electronics, books, a laundry facility, and a warm, comfortable bed. We have nice furniture, beautiful dishes, and pretty decorations. We have good friends, loyal family, and neighbors. We have AAA to rescue us when we get stuck in our own driveway (this morning's excitement). We have a God who heals, rescues, and restores our lives, and who will not forget His promises. Complete the work you've started, Lord! Make us what you want us to be, and may we be ever grateful and peaceful in your arms. The joy You give is our strength, and we trust in You.

cooktop crazies

dear electric cooktop: yes, you heat evenly, without flame or odor. However, I'm completely frustrated with you. You heat up so slowly, and then when you're hot, you're too hot. I have spent hours cleaning up boiled-over food from your smooth glass top. I'm fed up. Why can't you be more like your gas cousin? not-very-in-love, Linnea.

the pleasures of home

DH and I went home for my grandfather's 80th birthday, and incidentally, my sister's 19th. It was a fabulous weekend - temps in the 70's, sunshine, lots of family, lots of pie.
We are a pie-eating family. Birthday pie is a tradition. Grandpa's brother, Unc, used to tell us of the days when his mother would make a pie each day for dessert after supper. All kinds of pie - from classic apple to elderberry to mincemeat. Unc insisted that, since pie slices are wedge-shaped, there's always room for dessert. He never passed up a slice of pie! And always had stories to tell as he lingered over the accompanying cup of strong coffee (with a bit of cream, no sugar).


This birthday party for Grandpa reminded me of Unc (who passed away in 2008) because of the many pie choices there were! Peach, key lime, cherry, pecan, concord grape...and then there was cake and ice cream besides. My mom decorated both cakes - a white, Swedish themed cake for Grandpa, and a chocolate one with vibrant orange and yellow flowers for my sister. These were completed with the exact number of candles for both my sister and my grandfather. Yes, there were eighty candles on that cake...

Earlier that afternoon, my siblings, husband, and I enjoyed the outdoors. Frisbee, feeding the cows and horses, petting the cats, taking pictures of flowers, hitting some golf balls, shooting a few hoops...


It was a beautiful weekend, completed by horseback riding, hiking, painting toenails with my mom, picking wildflowers, and taking pictures.
yellow violets (a study in opposites, no?)

a rare red trillium