An Opportunity... hmm.

Right in my email inbox... an invitation from the choral director of a group I used to sing with. Inviting all "alums" to sing with the group again in the spring, in a concert with the city Orchestra. Poulenc's Gloria.

This is TEMPTING, in spite of the fact that there are people singing in this group that I'd rather not ever see again. People who were the reason I left the world of singing onstage. And tempting in spite of the fact that Tom is not an alum of this group, so I'd be doing this alone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mlITH1Jzg6A&feature=channel

Some glorious stuff. Challenging music, and a chance to get some vocal fitness back. And with the Orchestra. And with this choral director, who is one of my all-time singing heroes. And it's only eight rehearsals. No audition. TEMPTING for sure. Maybe it's time to start thinking about where I've stored my floor-length black skirts...

It's been a gut-wrenching little roller-coaster of a day. First, I found out at breakfast that a critically ill friend woke up and spoke to her husband - a huge piece of wonderful news. I sailed to art class, where I succeeded in painting a little bit of my current canvas that had been whipping me for weeks. Got a new cell phone that TEXTS. Got advice on finishing a jewelry piece that has had me slightly baffled.

Then, I came home. Sat down at the computer, entered the housekeeping chat where I'm a volunteer Moderator - right in the middle of a Situation.

Gotta say, I really don't like Situations. The room has pretty clear rules, and some folks just seem to think that the rules apply to OTHER people. Then, when I try talk to them about it, all of a sudden I'm some sort of ogre who is trying to ruin their day.

And I'm not an ogre. I'm a human being, working a whole lot of my own hours to try to keep an online room full of women safe from internet bad guys and working productively. Positivity is a byword in this chatroom, and that positivity sometimes gets dragged to a halt by self-centeredness. Sometimes the sense of I'm Entitled To Do Anything I Please Here almost leaves me speechless.

So, it was a rough tough afternoon. Emails back and forth with the Head Moderator and my co-Moderator on the volunteer side... Couple of conversations in Yahoo... Some "Dump and Run" private messages in the chatroom from the offending chatter... raging migraine on top of it all.


But.

Choir rehearsal.

And, as usual, the music took care of the day.

In Christ alone will I glory,
though I could pride myself in battles won.
For I've been blessed beyond measure
and by His strength alone I overcome.
Oh, I could stop and count successes
like diamonds in my hand.
but those trophies are not equal to the grace by which I stand.

In Christ alone I place my trust
and find my glory in the power of the cross.
In every victory, let it be said of me,
My source of strenth, my source of hope
is Christ alone.

(words & music by Shawn Craig and Don Koch)

The music adds even more to the words... but this little anthem just settled me right back down. Put my feet on solid ground again. Put air back into my lungs, peace into my heart.

The Situation started back up when I got back home (and is still in process as I type this), but it doesn't matter. I know where I stand, how very strongly, and Why.

Happy Birthday, little Mom... miss you forever, love you even longer...

Porch Time!!!

Back when we first bought this old house and were busy tearing it apart, we would look across the street to our neighbors, Joe and Joan. They had moved in 6 months before us, and were to the point in their own renovation where they could actually take a break. There they would be, sitting in their rocking chairs, enjoying a little "P.T."
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Porch Time.
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Oh, how we craved it!! Porch Time... the grace to be able to take a break, lay everything down, and retire to the front porch with a tall glass of something cold and a good book to read. We'd look over during yet another trip to the dumpster on the driveway, and we'd smile and wave... all the while gritting our teeth and chanting "someday. someday. someday."
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Well, Someday finally came. Our turn. Porch Time, indeed! And now I'll have to say that the front porch is about my favorite room in the whole house - spring and fall, when the weather allows, we'll sit out on a nice evening and just enjoy the neighborhood.
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While driving in Indiana, we passed by a woodcrafter's display of porch swings... and now, a sturdy sassafras-wood swing graces the left (west) end of the porch. On the right end, some wicker furniture we found on sale at Meijer. Toss some cusions on, throw a few plants around, and there's no better place for dinner on a spring evening.
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The left side... soon I'll be moving the behemoth weeping fig from the dining room out here...


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...And the right side, a favorite place for family gatherings.
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Hmm... it's 75 degrees and sunny out today... and there's some fresh squeezed lemonade in the fridge...think I hear the Right Side calling my name!
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P.T. - we has it. ;-)

alone in a crowd

Every now and then, I get the feeling that I’m all by myself. Oh, I go through the day, working on the house and talking to friends, family, and Tom – but somehow I feel invisible, unimportant, small.

I’m at a loss to really explain it, or even to really understand why I feel this way. Is it just the stressy little week I’ve had? Or is it some remnant of the bad old “diva” days, of the old need to be onstage and performing? I’ve tried to leave that behind, to squash the ego that seemed to keep me twisted in such knots. I keep thinking that I’ve reached some degree of serenity, of feeling centered and thus able to reach out to others.

But there’s still that corner of my soul that starts saying so softly, “what about ME?” And then it starts in, louder, more insistent, with “I need. I need. I NEED.” It thinks it wants to be fed, to have attention, to feel some spotlight, to be above everyone else and to be SPECIAL.

Grrr. I don’t like this. I don’t want it. It stresses me and strains my friendships. I want to be serene, to be strong, to be just… me. Why should I be onstage? Why should I be the center of attention? I’m just… me… and that should be plenty. What’s wrong with being part of a crowd, with going along, with fitting in?

And more importantly – how do I get back to that point? To being grounded, centered, steady? I don’t even really know what threw me off to begin with.

I’m writing this on a Sunday morning, extra early, after seeing Tom off on a business trip.

And aha! Just now, seeing the word “Sunday” shows me the path… I’ll be going to church by myself this morning, to sing in the choir as always. So. This morning I will make an extra effort to quiet myself, to listen with doubled attention, and to see what the morning brings for me to think about. I’m asking God to lay His hand on my poor needy little head, to quiet me down, to put His hands back on the reins and to lead me back where He knows I should be.

Remembering that I am a work In Progress… and remembering that, while I might be in a crowd, I’m never ever EVER alone.

Hm. Smiling again already

Like clockwork...

For as long as I've known him, Tom has been fascinated with antique clocks. It runs in his family - his Uncle Herman and grandfather were both "clock guys" as a hobby... and so, four or five years ago, Tom bought a videotape series on how to take them apart, clean and repair, and (most importantly) reassemble various kinds of key-wound pendulum clocks.
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What I never expected was the fun for ME in all this! When Tom joined the National Association of Watch and Clock Collectors (NAWCC), I thought it would be a nice club for him to be involved with - but I had no idea that "The Clock Guys" would be so welcoming of Spouses as well! Through this group, Tom and I have both met some of the lovliest, warmest folks around. Plus, the meetings all involve display/selling/swapping/talking about some really, really fascinating antiques (right up my alley).
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Tonight, we are just back from the Southern Ohio Regional convention - one of the larger ones going. For three days we've been immersed in looking at and talking about every imaginable type of old timepiece, from tiny ladies' wristwatches to some ginormous "Tall Case" (Grandfather) Clocks. And through it all, there's laughter and joking and tall tales and the cameraderie of people with a common interest and a common heart... one that goes "tick tock", for sure.
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Annnnnd.... look what followed us home! -------->

Backyard dreaming...

Due to a... difficult... neighbor, I haven't done any serious gardening for the past four or five years. Sad state of things, being uncomfortable in my very own back yard.

But Monday, NEW NEIGHBORS moved in next door - I am ecstatic. So, here's my little patch of green (with a light snow cover). I'll be talking about it a LOT more in posts to come. For now, let's just say that I have a lot of weeding to do - and am dreaming of a truckload of mulch.

Back home, back to the yard, back to myself again.

On St. Patrick's Day, I love to celebrate our family's Irish roots. Like so many families in this town, we have ancestors that came here due to the Irish Potato Famine in the 1800's.
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This is my great-great-grandmother, Julia O'Hearn Brown ("Grandma Brown"), in a portrait made in 1897. I have sortof adopted her as my Patron Ancestor, and imagine that I see some resemblances between her and my own self - if nothing else, our names and our pale blue eyes!

According to my grandmother, our dear Nannie, Grandma Brown was a seamstress and did fine sewing for the ladies in the Cherokee Triangle - a very hoity-toity area at the time, I'm sure (and still quite lovely today).
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And here is her husband, Patrick Brown ("Grandy" to the family). I don't have many details on him, but I hear that Uncle Bernie is researching the Irish side of the family as we speak! I can't wait to get to know Grandy better...
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I am theorizing, though, that he and Grandma Brown attained some measure of affluence... their portraits are large, beautifully done "crayon enhanced photographs". The frames are ornate Victorian filigree frames with real gold leaf. I have Grandma's hanging in the dining room, but unfortunately Grandy's frame has gone missing. He's safely tucked away behind the dresser till I can find a replacement!
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And this is one of their lovely children - Julia Marie "Lula Mae" Brown Asman, my great-grandmother Nana.
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Nana attended a boarding school for young ladies - I have and treasure some of her notebooks from school. She married a doctor (way to go, Nana!) and spent much of her time volunteering.
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I remember her at family gatherings at Mother and Daddy's... where she would play a mean ragtime piano for us!
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So there we have it. My little claim to Ireland, such as it is... I started this morning with my bowl of McCann's oatmeal, and have my green on for sure. Next is a trip to the workshop, where I will put on Celtic music and do some sewing - as I was taught by my mother Joan, who was taught by her mother Juliana, who was taught by hers, who was taught by Grandma Brown, who was a seamstress and did fine sewing.
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Julia, Julia Marie, Juliana, Joan, and Julie. Life spirals on out. Smile on my face. Erin Go Bragh!

On a lighter note...

...MUCH lighter!!! Here's ten inches of ashy dark blonde plus gray hair, on its way to Locks of Love.
(This one's in memory of little Mom.)

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Short Hair. I has it.

Valentine.

Snowy Valentine's morning... the choir isn't singing today, so Tom and I took the morning off from church. We exchanged our Valentines over breakfast, and now Tom is in his workshop. Even though the sound of the table saw is cutting into the Mozart on the stereo up here, I have to smile. Table saw means happy Tom, working on getting our new bathroom cabinets installed.

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So while he works, I'm "working" too - although my task this morning is a little more on the interior. The little meditation I read upstairs has really grabbed me - It speaks of some of the things that refine a life and make it what it is: all the disappointments, the mistakes, the failures big and small. All those things that, bit by bit, can carve and shape the soul into a finer path.

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I've been feeling this for some time now. I'm realizing that I have lived my younger life with great passion and not a whole lot of self-control. Oh, nothing illegal, immoral, or anything like that. But prideful. Arrogant. Exploding into so many directions at once that it's no wonder crash-and-burn has happened so often in my life. No wonder I've found myself butting heads with other people.

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In so many cases, I've found myself moving on - leaving a job, a singing group, a business endeavor - because it was simply too exhausting and painful to continue. I don't know if some of the wounds will ever really heal. I don't know if I'll ever want to speak to some of the people again. But the important thing, I think, comes simply in the moving on.

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The point now is the Peace. I'm beginning to feel like the rough spots are being smoothed out, the arrogance is being tempered into experience, the adrenaline-filled angst is being replaced with Calm. And I'm realizing that I'm not the one doing this, really... it's being Done. All I have to do is listen, and gratefully learn.

My Symphony

(William Henry Channing, 1810-1884)

To live content with small means;
to seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion;
to be worthy, not respectable,
and wealthy, not rich;
to study hard, think quietly, talk gently, act frankly;
to listen to stars and birds, to babes and sages,
with an open heart;
to bear all cheerfully, do all bravely,
await occasions, hurry never.

In a word,
to let the spiritual, unbidden, and unconscious
grow up through the commonplace.

This is to be
my symphony.

(Kind of says it all. - J.)

Listening.

I’ve been wondering lately… as Mom was in the hospital for the last time, I promised her I would always listen to her. But outside of one dream, I really have not “heard” her lately, and it has been troubling me. I’ve talked to her, and asked for help, but nothing. Or so I thought.

There is an acquaintance in my life who has turned…difficult. Without going into detail, let's just say I’ve been generally beside myself with how to deal with it, since this person is connected to an activity that I don’t wish to quit. The person is a Christian, and Galations 6:7 kept rolling through my head – As you sow, so shall you reap. But how to make this difficult person reap what they’re sowing?

Last night I realized how Tired I was of it. How ready I was to just… ignore it. Discussing the situation with a dear friend helped a lot – but I realized that I can’t wear my friends out over this. And today? I’ve come to the realization that the bad feelings are hurting only me. That the passage from Galations applies to ME too – If I sow with anger, I reap heartache.

So. I turn the bad in on itself, do my best to lose my anger toward this person and love them. I can still ignore their words if I need to - but I will do it with the aim of helping me, not to hurt them.

“Where did THIS come from?” I’m wondering. This isn’t like me! I usually hold on to hurts waaay longer than this. It just now hit me, duh, and put a huge smile on my face.
Hi, Mom. Thanks. Love you forever.

In the Art Studio...

All right - for friends who were asking... Here is the studio where I paint on Wednesday mornings... My easel is the one in the window with the small canvas on it!



I started painting in January of 2007, after my sister talked me into taking classes with her. She's a brilliant painter and actually teaches at the studio now, one day a week.


This is my third oil-on-canvas, painted from a photo by Donnie Beauchamp... Finished in March 2009, and the original lives at my Dad's house.











Current work-in-progress, my fourth canvas... Started in March 2009, this photo taken 1/6/10. (I work very very slowly!!!!)






That's it for now - thank you all so much for your interest!!!!

xxxxoooo - Jules