Cccccccolddddd….

Happy 2014.  And Welcome back. 
 

Probably half the bloggers in the USA have written about how cold it is this winter. I am using it as an excuse to start posting again.  Living in ChicagoLand, it’s been pretty interesting.  I can’t say I like temperatures below zero.  But I have enjoyed the cold a fair bit when it was less extreme – teens and twenties (farenheit).  I love to cross-country ski.  It’s my favorite winter workout.  It gets me outdoors and pushes me to the edge of breathless, a lot like a good Bulgarian Pajduško.  

Since it’s been so long since I wrote, of course a lot has happened.  Big things: Home Ownership (December 2012), loss of Leo (January 2013) and adoption of Coco (September 2013).  

I wrote about Leo in April of 2010.  I loved that boy.  He got me through some of my darkest times.  I had every reason not to expect him to live a normal Golden Retriever lifespan, but he did.  His end was fast and easy/painless.  For him, which is what counts.  My pain still exists.  But I am grateful to have had him for so long and that he didn’t suffer a long decline.  

Coco is a rescued poodle mix.  Recently I described her to facebook friends as “15 pounds of cute entitlement”.  

Photo Credit:  Margaret Loomis

She’s smart, sweet, playful, and snuggly.  She’s not Leo.  But she has her own special place in my heart, having wormed her way in overnight when I fostered her for a weekend in late September to “see if we’d suit”.  I try to maintain discipline and mostly I succeed. 

I bought a lovely house that I’m still crazy about.  The yard could be bigger, but it’s big enough to grow flowers and a small vegetable plot.  It is perfect in every other way.  I have been reunited with my piano and I have a real kitchen again (and my kitchen stuff!).  Leo got to live in it for 3 weeks before he died.  Coco is snoozing on the loveseat here in my office as I write. 

I feel pretty settled, now.  I have a small group of very dear friends here (you know who you are!) and a large group of activity buddies, conversation companions, professional colleagues, and assorted fellow audience members.   I have been thinking for a while about coming back, and I guess…I’m here.  I hope to hold forth on a new variety of topics in the same spirit in which I began this blog.  Variety is still the spice of my life.  Hope you’re getting started on a great year, too.

Living

It’s been a while.  I went through a period where I found blogging a burden, another chore.  I’d rather be out there living. 

And live I have.  I went to my annual EEFC music and dance workshop, despite the expense.  In part this was due to the generosity of the EEFC Board of Directors, who asked me to be their guest this year.  Thus the expense was considerably less than it would have otherwise been.  That week refreshes my soul, both because of the music and because of the community.  The “booster shot” happens in NYC in January at the annual Golden Festival.  I have not attended in several years, but this coming year I intend to go if I can figure out how to make it happen. 

I’ve made some additional commitments, as a professional and as a volunteer.  I am actually a little more busy than I’d like to be.  But I wouldn’t give up any one of these gigs, so I stay busy. 

The singing season for Sing To Live is in full swing – I can hardly believe it, but we’re performing our first concerts this coming weekend.  I spend a lot of my time practicing.  I am at my best when the music is almost memorized, so I can relax and focus on watching Wilbert’s direction and communicating to the audience. If there's anyone out there actually reading this, you might want to consider coming to one of our concerts.  These pay tribute to the value of music in our lives; something very important. 

Several people among my friends and relatives are dealing with a serious illness.  It reminds me of just how precious each day is, and how important people are.   It is very difficult to watch their struggles from afar and to feel so helpless.  Not that I’d be much more helpful if I lived in any of the places they are.  Each is the primary combatant in the fight, and we in their communities can only stand on the sidelines and cheer, for the most part.  But I do not know whether to love or hate CaringBridge. 

I am so very fortunate to be part of several groups and communities from which I can draw solace, support, camaraderie and laughter.   I hope I contribute to each one, but I believe I receive far more than I give.  

The job search continues, and I am still single.  But I am not alone, I am healthy, and I am so very lucky in so many ways.  I try never to forget that. 

Singing to Live

The singing group I’m in, the Sing to Live Community Chorus,  had an extra rehearsal today.  We normally rehearse on Thursday nights but because we have an unusually short period of time to prepare (known, in STL parlance, as “a prep”) for our next concerts in mid-May, we scheduled a Sunday afternoon combination sectional and full-group rehearsal in addition to our normal practice times.

This may sound like extra work, and it certainly was.  But it was also an extra treat.  I enjoy the challenge of learning the music and learning what our director wants us to do with it.  And I enjoy the people, tremendously.  We always have a potluck supper after our Sunday rehearsals, which gives us a chance to just hang out together.  The food’s always tremendous, too.   I waddled home with 2 new recipes.

It’s interesting how a group like this, with a very diverse range of skills and interests, can put something together.   We have some really amazing musicians among us, for which we are all grateful.  We also have some people kind of in-between, like me.  I can read music and am good at remembering what I’ve learned, though I’d never call my voice ready for a solo in Carnegie Hall.  Then, we have people who have little or no musical training or experience; they just want to sing and they have a reason, just like all of us in the group, to support STL’s mission.  They combine heart, effort and motivation and make musicians out of themselves.  I am very impressed.

I also marvel at director Wilbert Watkins’ leadership.  He’s working with volunteers, and he’s working mainly with people who aren’t trained singers.  He is very exacting, but he is also respectful.  Sometimes I even think he’s too gentle, but I don’t quibble with his methods: he always seems to manage to get us all where he wants us to go in time for the performance.  I find the process fascinating, both from the perspective of my own understanding of and comfort with the music and from my perception of how each piece grows on the group as we learn it. 

I usually start a prep kind of disliking at least one piece, but I find they always grow on me as we learn them.  It seems to be impossible not to find the beauty in something as I live with it for the weeks ahead of the concerts.  Wilbert encourages us to think about the lyrics and what they might mean to each of us.  I don’t believe I’ve ever had a choral conductor do that so consistently before.  As it happens, the timing is perfect, as it fits nicely with my recently-begun efforts to be more mindful and in-the-moment.  My singing feels different when I do this – I hope it sounds different to listeners, too.  All of a sudden I really, truly understand why so much prayer has been set to music over the centuries.  From my view, most music IS prayer.

From our “signature song”, called Why We Sing:
        Music builds a bridge; it can tear down a wall! 
        Music is a language that can speak to one and all.

Sing to Live is a major reason why I won’t consider moving away from Chicago anytime soon.  It has become family; both the music and the people are on my mind virtually every day, and I am grateful for the immense richness it -- and they -- add to my life.