Birthday Greetings...

...to my Dad.

Merry Christmas

Peace be to you and grace from Him who freed us from our sins. Who loved us all and shed his blood that we might saved be. Sing holy, holy to our Lord. The Lord, Almighty God, who was and is and is to come; Sing holy, holy, Lord! Rejoice in heaven, all ye that dwell therein, rejoice on earth, ye saints below, for Christ is coming, He's coming soon! For Christ is coming soon. E'en so, Lord Jesus, quickly come, and night shall be no more; they need no light nor lamp nor sun, for Christ will be their All!

-Paul Manz, 1953

I was honored to be asked to play in a string sextet for our church's late Christmas Eve service. During the service, the choir sang this song, E'en So Lord Jesus, Quickly Come. This has been a favorite of mine for years. These words of promise from Revelation 22 are paired with a reflective melody that beautifully remind me of the meaning of the season: He came to earth to save us from our sins, and He will return soon. I pray that these words would be true for you this Advent Season. Grace & Peace to you all. Merry Christmas.

Christmas Coffee Drinks

Tonight I met a friend for coffee at the local Caribou. I've taken it upon myself to test out all the different Holiday coffee drinks available at Starbuck's, Caribou and Dunn Brothers. I don't know why I decided to do this - I've never had a Christmas coffee before this year. They never appealed to me previously. I don't know why they never appealed, because as many of you know, I'm an all or nothing girl: I either want my coffee straight (or better yet, in espresso form), or so doctored up there's barely hope of recognizing it as coffee. Nothing in between, thank you very much. And trust me, these Christmas novelty beverages definitely fit into the latter category.

It really didn't start out as a conscious decision to taste-test them all; it just kind of happened, and now it's a trend. I had a "Ho Ho Mocha" at Caribou. I liked the candy cane in it, but adding the mocha was too much. (If you live near one, try the Dunn Brothers version - the Peppermint Latte is much better.) I could handle either the vast amount of sugar or the vast amount of caffeine, but both? Not the best idea, and this is coming from an admitted sugar addict who really enjoys her caffeinated coffee. (Again, I really like the doctored stuff, so this is saying something. I should've just had straight black - I'd be happier right now.) The Pumpkin Spice Latte is pretty good at Starbuck's. The only thing I refuse to try is anything eggnog. I have nothing but appreciation for eggnog, but in one's coffee? I don't think so. That's just wrong.

Christmas Time Is Here...Happiness and Cheer...

Nothing beats the reading of Luke 2 by Linus in Charlie Brown's Christmas. In fact, I think that just about every time I read that particular portion of Luke, it's his voice that I hear in my mind.
Christmas is my favorite time of year. (I hate New Year's, always have, but before then, it's all good.) My arm almost fell off the last two weekends after all the music I ended up playing, but it was a good kind of pain. All those church services on the 11th. Why do I not check my calendar and think things through before I agree to them? Another concert the night of the 11th. We finished off the Minnetonka Symphony Christmas concerts last night, and this concert series included that great "Farewell" Symphony by Haydn. You know. The one that Haydn wrote when the Prince wasn't giving the musicians enough vacay, so in the last movement, he wrote it to allow all the musicians to leave the stage one by one, until all that're left are two lonely violinists. I really enjoy leaving the stage before the piece ends. One does not get to do that very often. OK, I've never done that before. Top notch.

We had some decent snow late last week - in places, enough to cover the tops of my tall boots. It was great. No snow storm would be complete, either, without my neighbor going out to get his mail and wandering around the yard in a t-shirt. Of course he had on his boots, his pants held up by suspenders. and a t-shirt. Throw in a bit of red to go with all that snow and maybe a white beard, and he could be the neighborhood Santa. or not. Only in MN do people wander around in blizzards so unsuitably clothed, where 13 degrees this afternoon felt downright balmy, and we grill year 'round. I love it here.

We have some new neighbors on this block this Christmas. A lot decorate with pretty lights and take part in this lovely tradition. A few of them, however, have odd ideas of decorating. Including this one family who happened to make an addition to their Christmas decor as of last evening. There's a gigantically awful Spongebob Squarepants on their roof. You know those big blow up things that are lit up? Apparently it's supposed to be a big, blow-up Spongebob going down a big, blow-up chimney. Thankfully it's not lit up tonight. The awful part is that it is on the opposite side of the street from our house, so unfortunately we can see it far too easily.

Tonight I did some Christmas shopping - the last of it. Best and worst thing ever? Gift cards. Best because it took me 3 minutes to go in and purchase one at Best Buy, worst because it's not very creative or imaginative (but if it's what they want, it's what they want...I don't like giving gifts like that, but to my dismay, I did it). The guy next to me must've had a similar notion of getting it over with fast. He walked in with me and walked out with me. But without a gift card. He was as pained as me, but in a much different way. Apparently he picked up a box of something close to the door and decided on that. It was very amusing listening to and watching the guy sweat out the purchase. I didn't have the heart to look at what it was; there are just some things I don't want to know, but I only hope it wasn't for his mother.

Christmas Activities in Minnesota

The other night (Wednesday, to be exact), I met Kate, an ol' Oak Brooker, who was in town for a bit. We had a grand time doing all the things good Minnesotans do at Christmas time.

First of all, we went to Starbucks to purchase something to buck us up for the next event, the Holidazzle Parade. I'm not so sure Kate really believed me when I told her that we have a parade outside practically every night for much of the month before December 25th. (We like parades in winter, and have a carnival named after that beloved season, with more parading about outdoors). Half the entertainment is watching all the little kids' reactions to the floats and lighted costumes (I'd say "lit costumes" but lest you think they are on fire, I will use "lighted"; all the costumes are lit with Christmas lights. I think that it would be fun to have such a costume, although since I'm not going to be in a parade anytime soon, and I don't think I'm quite lazy enough to wear something like that around the house because I will deign turn on a light bulb, I doubt I'll be getting one soon. Whew. How's that for run-on?). After that, we joined the masses going to the Marshall Field's 8th floor presentation of Cinderella, which again, is always entertaining in part because of the small fry and their reactions. I must report they really did a great job making Cinderella lovely and beautiful, while keeping the step-mother and step-sisters hideous and ugly. I mean really ugly. Like they could still be giving small children nightmares, especially the one scene of the sister without her wig (it was worse than the Phantom of the Opera taking of his mask when he had all those hair plug things? Remember that?).

After that, it was a trip down Memory Lane as we frequented Brit's Pub for some good ol' English fare (England being where Kate and I got to know each other the first time 'round). OK, so it was really a walk down Nicollet Mall in Minneapolis, and some things were much better than that first trip to London...No offense to any on that particular trip of which I speak, but I'm sure you already figured that one out.

All in all, a good time was had by all - both Kate and me, and all the little kiddies whose dreams will now be invaded by really ugly step-sisters and then rescued by the Fairy Godmother (I hope). And maybe some sugar plums.

This afternoon I played Handel's Messiah in the 1st violin section of the Minnetonka Symphony. The entire thing. We perform it as a Sing-Along with audience participating during choruses, soloists performing everything else. This makes it more fun than sitting through 2 or 2 1/2 hours of it while trying not to hum, bothering everyone around you. The audience really gets into this, but they do tend to drag a couple choruses down, and speed up a few others. But I love playing it, I really do.

The world rejoices: my Alto Ego has made an appearance

It was with great happiness that I read Sarah's comment from a couple days ago. The great alto ego deigned visit my blog! (OK, I didn't even realize she was out there in the blogosphere - a serious oversight on my part.) It was with a bit of consternation that I found her blog. Not so much consternation that I found it at all, but more consternation because I realize I don't speak the language of the Canadian Dutch people. (or maybe it's just the Moerman family language I don't speak.) Haven't a clue what half the recipes involved, nor did I get all of the humor (but I'm sure it must have been that, though I might not have gotten it because of all the inside stuff going on with family and sibling rivalry/humor that is omnipresent in families). However, her stories about keeping count of the bear and moose (or bears and meese as it sounds in my mind) she's been encountering is enough to keep me entertained.

The Alto Ego bit is from (don't groan, all you OBCL/ATIers) Sound Foundations, way back when in '98. You know. Before the turn of the century. That seems like forever ago, but Sarah and I still remember fondly our days of snickering in the alto section of the choir, our days of snickering through orchestra rehearsals in the violin sections, our days of snickering, period. It was a lot of amusement for us. Ah, to remember the good ol' days. (When we think to email each other back.)

And please don't take this the wrong way, what with my recent C.S. Lewis post on love, but her little diddy of a toast was priceless. All together now with tongues firmly in cheek:

Here's to you, and here's to me
And to the friends we'll always be
But should we ever disagree
-Forget you! Here's to me!

C.S. Lewis on Love

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket - safe, dark, motionless, airless - it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

The Four Loves, by C.S. Lewis

Christmas Tree Hunting

Here's my Dad and me with "the one" ... that poked me in the eye.

Thoughts on church trends

Has anyone else noticed that it's hard to keep up with church re-naming? The church I grew up in has changed its name. The church I play the Messiah at every year with the Minnetonka Symphony has changed its name. There are numerous situations just like these all around town: my impression is that the church no longer wants to give off the aura of being affiliated with a particular denomination or sect, and thus changes its name to be more inclusive to all and cause no discomfort to potential attendees. How is this honest? It almost has a feeling of bait-and-switch to me, kinda like "We'll get you in the doors before we slam you with what denomination we are." Or, worse, church doctrine no longer matters, and is manifested by the name change? I dread to think such a thought, but it has occurred to me. I have no personal experience with a church changing its name - no church I have attended has changed its name while I was going there, so maybe I'm completely off on this. I have got to believe that there are legitimate reasons to change a church's name, but I'm just not seeing them. Maybe a church really is no longer affiliated with a particular denomination. And as a Christian, I should be more inclusive of others (Christian or not) and squabble less about our differences (especially amongst other Christians). I am a Christian and have attended church my entire life; but could these also be the thoughts of those who aren't Christians and who have never darkened the door of a church? If they see all of these maneuverings, are they really more likely to visit? (Enlighten me, people, if you can. Have any of you gone through this?)

I went to just such a church recently to attend an event (neither of which - the church or event - I'll draw attention to by naming them because I know members there), and was dismayed to hear a pastor inviting people to Sunday morning services. I have no problem with a pastor inviting people to a Sunday morning service; it was the phrase he used to invite people that really got to me. He warmly encouraged people to attend the Sunday morning "Worship Experience." I get that you don't want to completely put new people off by saying, "Come hear us preach at you when you're barely awake on the weekend" or even "Sit down while we lecture you after you stand and sing songs you don't know." These words of invitation would probably not get many visitors. However, "Worship Experience" implies there will be no sermon at all. Maybe this is true - maybe there's merely a five-minute monologue of nothingness, if any at all. I have been to churches where announcements run longer (and dare I say, more deep) than the sermon. (I doubt that to be true in the particular church of which I'm speaking, but...) I understand that it is probably possible to worship God through sermon, but I'm just not getting that out of "Worship Experience." Am I completely missing the mark here? Is it just me?

Further, have you ever noticed how "sermon" got replaced with "message," and now "message" surely must be due to be replaced with something-or-other? Hey, I got no beefs with "message." I'm okay with that. I'm just looking at the direction the Church is taking. What was wrong with "service"? That's a good, solid word that generally implies both sermon and worship, but does not seem to be that offensive. "Service" can even be ambiguous, but I guess it is so wrapped up with church and religious occasions (funerals, maybe?) that it would still be offensive to some. Apparently that one was due for replacement, too. Next it'll be "Singing Adventure" or some such nonsense. It's like the church's version of political correctness.

And we wonder where the modern Church is headed? We can't even handle the word "service" or the name of the church, let alone Biblical preaching that might make us uncomfortable.

Quote of the moment: food for thought

"What a funny world. Where once it was scandalous to be unmarried and pregnant, now it is scandalous to disapprove of another's being unmarried and pregnant... The larger moral issue, meanwhile, isn't that yet another young lady didn't get the marry-first memo, but that the culture-at-large has decided fathers aren't necessary. When we celebrate single motherhood, as we have since Murphy Brown made out-of-wedlock birth a glam option for busy women, we can hardly pucker in disapproval when the next generation doesn't know any better. Look around at cultural signposts, from television to movies to magazines, and you see a consistent message that men are nonessential to woman's higher reproductive prerogative. I wouldn't worry so much that children might infer a premarital sexual liaison between teacher and boyfriend. Far more offensive and morally dangerous is the cultural patricide taking place in America today. 'Killing dad' may not be a crime, but it is surely a sin." ---Kathleen Parker

Christmas Tree 2005

As promised, dear readers, here is my Christmas Tree 2005 adventure.

It's a long-standing family tradition to go out and cut down a real Christmas tree the weekend after Thanksgiving. So, on Friday morning, I went to the doctor's and got my sling/splint taken off, went to Starbuck's to purchase a new, on-sale Barista cappuccino machine (thank you, Kari!), and then made it home in the snow to go out with the parental units to find this year's version of the perfect tree.

We go out into the "country" each year and visit tree farms; over the years we've had unusual experiences doing this. Up until this year, my favorite included the slightly tipsy Santa Claus who followed me around the tree farm offering candy canes. My least favorites were 1) when there was a hay-ride accident while we were at a farm one year (didn't involve anyone I know, but it was rather tragic), and 2) the year I had a delayed reaction to some immunizations I'd gotten the day before Thanksgiving (and ended up in Urgent Care).

Half the fun is searching through acres of trees (especially fun if it's snowing or there's snow on the ground through which to hike). Then you get to wander around with a hand saw, shake all the snow off the trees and finally proclaim the annointed tree to be "the one." This year we hit the jackpot because there was already snow on the ground and it was snowing. The family and I merrily searched out all the trees, me with my gimpy arm now snug in my jacket sleeve, slingless (loved that feeling, though you could have still draped a white towel over my arm and had me wait tables, it was held so closely to my waist).

So, as we were loading up the tree, the thing got a little stuck. When it came unstuck, my eye happened to be right there. Yes, you read that right: I poked myself in the eye with our Christmas tree. Who does that? So, now I'm two statistics this year: I slipped on ice and injured myself, and then I was involved in a Christmas-related accident. Alas, I ended up in Urgent Care (thankfully not the hospital, but I would've preferred the eye doctor's office had they been available that day), with green dye in my eye, and a kindly doctor telling me "Wow, you have a scratch almost all the way across your eye!" I was sent home with eye drops and since I don't wear contacts and I do flinch at anything coming near my eyes, was traumatized for three full days afterwards trying to get the antibiotic solution into my right eye.

I'm all better now. Well, the eye is. My arm is much better, but it's still an odd array of color, but is healing well. (I also have stitches, which is a completely different story involving my dermatologist, was expected and precautionary, and I won't bore you or gross you out with details; stitches come out on Wednesday. Suffice it to say, wear your sunscreen, and no, I do not have melanoma.)

The tree is all up, and it smells heavenly and is laden with numerous Scandinavian ornaments (think red and simple and straw ornaments and you've got the idea). And now I'm sure you can see why we go cut down a Christmas tree every year: you never know what will happen, and it's always entertaining (at least to me).

TV Crimefighter Poll Results

Poll Results:

The results are in, and the votes have been tallied.
Lawyers won, with 66% of the vote. (I am curious how many of those votes came from real-life attorneys...) There's a criminalist out there somewhere with 16% of the vote. And finally, someone would like to return to the glory days of high school (or maybe re-do it so they are the glory days of high school?) and be Veronica Mars, solving crimes. (Or maybe the vote was for a plain ol' P.I., and I just paired it with an unfortunate choice that I tend to find humorous...) No one wants to be a doctor, and no one wants to be a plain ol' cop. Too bad. If one of you out there decided to be a doctor, I might be seeing more of you, what, with my luck lately. (I have yet to inform you all of the Christmas Tree 2005 incident. Coming soon!)

New Poll:

What do you like about snow? Do you like to play in it? Do you like seeing it through the window while you're curled up next to a warm fire with a good book? Is your preference to see it only on the weather channel while you laze on a sunny beach in the Carribean? Or have you never even seen it in person (*gasp*), and the closest you've come to it is when you defrost your freezer? Or do you like it only on one day of the year, Christmas? So, vote on your favorite.

(I must confess that even with my slight accident two weeks ago, I'm still a huge fan of snow, and love that it's white outside - with a couple more inches predicted tonight. It's ice I can live without, unless I'm actually trying to skate somewhere.)