A Day In The Life

I float up from the deep well of sleep.  With my eyes still closed I can tell that it is too light.  A split-second of terror before I remember that it's Saturday.  Blessed, glorious Saturday.  I open my eyes and stare at the still-bare wall.  I should hang something there.  But the walls are cement, and hanging stuff's a pain.  I yawn, stretch, and turn off the sound machine.  It's on full-blast, drowning out the rockin' beer-and-pizza party that was still going on last night in the apartment below me when I finally went to bed a little after 1am.  I have to turn off the machine before I take out the ear plugs, or it sound hurts my early-morning ears.

I roll over and enjoy the knowledge that I don't have to get up if I don't want to.  I DO want to get up, but that's not the point.  I make a note that I should wash the sheets in this week's load of laundry.

An hour later I'm on my way to Blain's Farm and Fleet.  In that hour I've eaten breakfast (my last container of greek yogurt, thereby making today's grocery run more or less a necessity), checked email, started the laundry, and narrowly escaped a nasty fall down my icy-slick stairs.  I listen to Rascal Flatts croon about Mayberry as I drive north, past the magical divide between DeKalb and Sycamore, where BFF is located.

[Editor's Note:  it is, no doubt, NOT a coincidence that my favorite store's initials are BFF.  Really?  How could that not be significant?]

I need a broom.  I've lived in the US for 8 months now.  I really need a broom.  I could get a broom at Wal-Mart, probably, but it's a good excuse to go to BFF.  I see a dad and two kids while I mosey down the aisles.  All three are wearing cowboy boots.  I refrain, with some difficulty, from approaching them for a picture.  While there I also discover a delightfully inexpensive solution to my electrical outlet problem.  A $0.39 adapter that will allow me to plug a grounded plug into an ungrounded outlet.  God bless you, BFF!  I bought three.

Next I headed to the fancy-pants grocery store here, Hyvee.  I was there once before.  On my very first day in DeKalb, in fact.  I was trying to get to Wal-Mart, but got lost and eventually ended up there.  I got what I needed, but I hadn't been back because Wal-Mart is cheaper.  But this week a co-worker told me their produce is really good, so I decide to try again.

The produce section IS impressive.  Lots of selection, including organic, some local, and the prices seemed to be about the same as Wally World.  But the excitement of the day comes in my discovery of the WHOLE FOOD SECTION.  To my great delight, they carry lots of hard-to-find, usually healthier-for-you items, like organic stuff, glutten free products, grains and flours that are less known in the Midwest, like rye, quinoa, semolina, etc.  And perhaps MOST exciting, you can buy spices there in bulk!  Ironically, this is exciting for me because I always wish I could buy LESS than the whole container of a spice.  I learned a few years ago that spices lose their flavor with time, and there are only a few that I use enough to merit a whole jar.  I gaze.  I marvel.  I help a lady look for the taco seasoning container.  I buy some cayenne pepper.  And finally, reluctantly, I move on.

Back home, I switch the laundry in the basement and then lug my grocery treasures...and my broom...up to my third floor apartment.  On my first trip in, I realize that I have forgotten to return my RedBox movie during my errands.  Dangit.  I unload everything and check email.  A message from my car insurance.  Awesome.  My next six months is due at the end of the month.  Just in time to swallow up a good chunk of my tax return.  I chat with the nice rep lady, who finds me an extra $18 discount while I wash apples and pears and grapes.  Not a lot, but I'd rather have $18 than give it to them, I suppose.

After making another trip to the basement to collect my now-clean-and-dry clothes, I decide it's time to sweep.  I free my new broom from its plastic wrapping (why is it necessary to wrap a broom, I ask you?  For the love of Pete, people, stop packaging our world to death!) and move my bed away from the wall.

Gray dust monsters, grown from their bunny childhoods on a healthy diet of my hair and DeKalb's dust, swirl around my new broom, daring us to trap them.  I sweep and sweep and sweep.  This apartment is much smaller than my last, but it's still a lot of hardwood floor to sweep.  Eventually I have corralled the dust monsters into a pile, roughly the size of my head.  It's gross.  I decide the broom was a good idea.

Laundry is folded and put away, floors are clean...er.  Bed is remade, and ready- as it happens- for me to jump in for a nap.  No ear plugs or sound machines needed this time.  Probably because the frat boys downstairs are still sleeping off last night's revelries.  I ponder, not for the first time this weekend, how much I would love to not share walls with college students.  I sleep.

After the nap I reheat some chicken enchiladas (my most successful cooking experiment in awhile) and settle in on the couch to watch a movie I borrowed from the library called The Children of Huang Shi.  It's based on a true story of a British man who went to China in 1937 during the unofficial war between Japan and China.  He ends up taking about 60 orphan boys on a 700 mile trip to safety, escaping both the Japanese army (who would like to kill them) and the Chinese, communist army (who would like to force them to be soldiers).  It's a sad and stirring movie.  I cry and laugh, and look forward to the time when I will not be watching movies alone more often than not.

And that brings us up to the present.  I felt the writing itch.  Decided to write a post.  I look at the mess of my kitchen table/desk, and think I should prune that a bit.  I think happily that tomorrow is Sunday, and after the spiritual food of the church service, I will hopefully get to have some social and physical food at lunch with some friends somewhere.  It hasn't been a particularly thrilling day, but it's been good.  I am thankful.

Harmony

It's interesting to me how I remember learning some skills quite vividly, and how I have zero recollection of learning others.  Evidence reveals that at some point, I learned to brush my teeth and talk and add.  I don't remember learning those things.  But I DO remember the exact moment when reading made sense to me.  I remember Grandma Foster teaching me how to put those tight little Barbie doll pants on the Barbie (the key is BOTH legs at the SAME TIME).  I remember learning that when you cut a flower (even with the good intention of presenting it to Grandma Nell, who loved flowers), it would die.  (sorry, Grandma Nell)    I remember learning to tie my shoes.  Dad taught me, on his GIANT work boots, on the brown carpeted floor in the living room of our old house.  (incidentally, I was the fastest shoe-tie-er amongst my siblings.  I was quite proud of that.)  And I remember learning how to sing harmony.

My Grandpa Foster taught me, though I'm not sure if he realized it.  I was riding in the backseat of his car, sandwiched between my sister, Brittony, and my cousin, Tami.  Grandma was in her seat in the passenger side in the front of the car.  I don't remember where we were going, but chances are good that we three were being returned to our homes from a visit to Ludlow Falls.  In any case, Grandpa, a proud barbershop singer, was teaching us a new song to pass the travel time.

The song was called "Wait 'Til the Sun Shines, Nellie".  He taught us the melody, and we all sang that through a few times, and then he said, "Leslie, you sing with me this time."  And so I did.  This time Britt and Tami sang the melody and Grandpa sang other notes, similar to, but not the same as, what the girls were doing.  I followed along.  It was easy.  The notes made sense in my head.  I could almost hear them in my head before I heard them with my ears.

Grandpa must have said something nice about how I was doing.  I don't remember any particular words, but I remember feeling very proud, and that kind of pride in an accomplishment always meant that someone had complimented me verbally.  I would imagine it was something pretty mild, like "Very good!" or "Nice job!"  But whatever he said, I was hooked.

From that moment, the way I heard music changed.  Once I knew about this other kind of singing, I always heard it when music played.  Whether I sang it or not, I heard it.  Chords, playing in my mind.  Sometimes I have trouble knowing which of the notes is the melody, because the harmony lines play so loudly in my mind.

When I sing harmony, it's like I'm dancing.  Like dancing with my voice.

Melody...it's ok, too.  But it's so straight-laced.  When you sing melody, you have very little room for creativity.  Like you're dancing inside of a metal, body-shaped cage.  It moves to allow you to follow the steps, but you can't really improvise much.

But harmony?  If harmony is a dance, it's freestyle.  Like dancing freestyle in a weightless environment.  It's not learned steps; it's a feeling.  It's going higher...a third, a fifth...or lower...or moving back and forth, circling the melody and coming back.

And when you get a second harmonic part?  Oh man.  Tight, three-part harmony?  I'm pretty sure that's what we'll be hearing when we stand in the presence of the Father one day.  Singin' harmony with the angels.  A vocal dance of praise and joy and beauty.

And so.  I am thankful for the teachers in my life.  I am thankful to you, Grandpa Foster, for introducing me to harmony, and simply letting me know that I did it well.

Hi Kids,

Just letting you know that my second article has gone live on the Inspired by Family magazine.  You can read it by clicking the link on the right of this page.

Happy Valentine's Day!

So today I found a C. S. Lewis quote on a friend's facebook page that is EXACTLY what I have tried to tell people on multiple occassions, but always with far less efficiency of speech.  I love this quote SO MUCH that I decided to post it.  Ready?

"We're not doubting that God will do what's best for us. We're wondering how painful the best will turn out to be." -C.S. Lewis


This is what I was trying to say in this blog post (link here).  Just so you know.  


Also, I think my second article for Inspired By Family Magazine will go live in the next couple days, in case you want to keep an eye out for it.