Texts from Hillary

Have you seen the tumblr series of photos based on the picture of Hillary Clinton using her smart phone?  A press photographer captured her picture, and it's become a funny trend of matching it with another picture to add what Hillary's text would be.   It's a riot.   You can check them out here. 

I just love Hillary.

I break for games

You know how sometimes you just need a little break from reality?  (You do, right?  It's not just me?)  Lately I've found that a few minutes of Iphone and/or Ipad game playing creates such a happy little break.  Here's what I've been playing:


Draw Something

    This is sort of an online version of Pictionary, where the goal is to draw something that someone else can guess.  In Draw Something, you can link up with friends (via email or Facebook), then you take turns drawing something and guessing what they've drawn for you.  It's not real time -- you open the game and if someone has taken their turn, it'll be there waiting for you to play at your leisure. It's very fun, with drawing skill far less important than identifying the visual cues that will trigger the answer.  I've played it both on my Ipad and my Iphone, and it's way harder on the Iphone's small screen.  (My friend Kristin drew an amazingly detailed 4-person illustration of ABBA with an Iphone and her finger.  I'm still marveling over that!)  

Zed's Alchemy

My sister Laura turned me onto this very clever and addictive game, and I've not been able to stop playing it since.  (Thanks, Laura!)  It's another one for the Ipad and Iphone, but it seems to work equally well on both devices.  The idea is that you start with four basic elements: earth, air, water and fire.  By dragging one onto another, you create more things.  For example, fire + earth = lava.  Fire + water = steam.  The more you drag and drop the things you have made, the more things you create. (The game says there are 380 things you can make, starting with those 4.  I'm up to about 120 so far.)

But it's a riot.  And there's a funny sort of logic to it.  If you find the "Life" element (a little DNA strand!), you can add that to stuff to see what you get.  Life + dust = mites, as it turns out.  It gets you thinking... let's see, how can I get mammals? A tree?  From a tree, what can I get? 

The simplicity of this game is what makes it brilliant -- that and rather funny humor.  Can you create a beetle?  If you get one beetle and drag it onto another beetle, you find yourself with The Beatles.  It's very charming with lots of fun surprises.

You can thank me (in a few hours after you've gotten sucked into one or both of these... )  I just heard Miss C shout from her room that she created "omelet." 

UK here we come

We are getting ready to travel to the UK this coming week, for a fun and friend-filled vacation.  We'll have a grand time visiting our friends Helen and Dennis and touring Northern England, and then at the end will be the quilty excitement of the Festival of Quilts in Birmingham, England. All 144 of the 12x12 quilts will be exhibited.  I can hardly wait and have been busy getting ready for our big UK adventure.

To that end, I've done a bit of shopping, and have been tempted by these goodies, if for no other reason than to torment Helen who is already wincing about the Royal Wedding pay-as-you-go cellphone I will be using there.

Comfy walking shoes?  Check.

Some extra warmth for layers? Check.

A good carry-on bag for the plane? Check.

Something casual and stylish for daytime wear? Check.

A hat, in case of inclement weather and/or bad hair day? Check.

A stylish handbag?

I'm confident I'll blend right in with the locals. They won't even know I'm a tourist, I'm sure.

Old Things

Here I am!  I've been absent lately due to a host of little things ... you know how there are some days when you set out to do one thing and you never even get to that?  It's been like that around here.  One of my tasks has involved upgrading the operating system on my computer, which has meant a whole lot of little glitchy computer things ... but I think I'm back up and running now.

My mom and dad are in the process of moving out of the house they've lived in for 40 years, and so I've managed to bring home boxes of stuff from my life in that house.  My brain tells me to PURGE PURGE PURGE but there is the sentimentalist in me and, despite the fact that I've not even seen these boxes for 20 years (and I should just chuck them unopened), I can't resist opening the up to dig through some old memories.

So here's what I found this week.  Does anyone remember Marriott's Great America?  I worked at the Great America in Santa Clara, California (right across to the convention center where PIQF is, btw) for a summer and a spring break or two.  It was the perfect college-student job, with a whole lot of fun if you didn't mind the incessant noise and crazy people (we used to swear that they checked their brains at the entrance gate.)  Finding the park's event buttons which we were required to wear brought back a lot of memories.  I worked mostly on the park's flagship attraction, the double decker carousel right at the front of the park.  And yep, from time to time people got sick on that ride, even.

In the same box was my beloved Barbie, who is showing serious signs of aging.  Her mascara sure needs a touch-up, and she's got some serious neck issues.  Note the cracks   wrinkles in her neck.  She needs a good turtleneck ... or any clothes at all, really.  (They'll turn up in some other box, I'm sure.)  But the curl in her hair has held up for 40 years, which is something, and there's not a strand of gray.

And then there's the troll doll.

Strangely, I don't remember naming him... her... well, it.  And my sister and I played with them endlessly, in their shoe-box houses.  This little guy ... girl... thing seems to have aged better than Barbie, I'd say. 

I can't wait until my parents get into the storage area above their garage, where my Barbie dream house and my sister's Barbie's Dress Shop have been hiding all these years. We're already looking forward to a Barbie play day.

The Sound of Music

 
My first season singing with the Healdsburg Chorus has just come to an end, and I have been thinking about how to sum up this amazing experience.  And it has been a delightful experience, in ways that have nothing to do with the actual singing.

* I set out looking for a community chorus after being so inspired by watching Gareth Malone's "The Choir" on BBC America.  I don't think I've even done anything because of a reality tv show (which is a good thing, don't you think?) but this turned out to be a wonderful inspiration.

* I originally thought it would be something R and I could do together, seeing how R has a wonderful voice and used to sing in coffee houses for actual money.  But he wasn't up for group singing and I went ahead anyway.  Something that started out as being for him turned out to be an amazing gift to myself.  Marriage is funny that way.

* I'm not a great singer, and I certainly don't have the "performer" urge.  But standing among a group of other people and adding my little voice to theirs seemed do-able.  This has been a great lesson in how doing my own little part along with others doing their parts adds up to something BIG and wonderful.

* On the first day of chorus, the director sat me down next to Paula, and we started talking and we felt like we have known each other all of our lives.  Her husband Jim is just as easy and great to talk to.  I have another very great friend whose acquaintance I owe to some random person sitting me next to her at a quilt guild meeting  -- so maybe there is a cosmic thing about being put next to the people you are meant to know.  How wonderful to make a new friend when I least expected it!

* It's impossible to be cranky when you're singing.  There were evenings when I wasn't in the mood to leave the house after dinner for practice, but once I got there and started singing, I felt wonderful and was so happy to be there.  One fellow theorized that the vibration through your body does some adrenaline thing.  Who knows -- but I'm thinking that maybe singing along to the radio or a cd is a good way to keep pushing through those chores.

* Putting a bunch of women, most of whom are over 40, into skirts and blouses and requiring them to TUCK IN THEIR BLOUSES is an instant bonding experience, because they will all hate having to tuck in their blouses.  Not a good look for women in a certain age category with certain midriff issues.   I won't even mention bonding issue #2, the collar ruffle thingies we were all required to wear. (See picture above.  I rest my case.)

* I didn't know anything about singing.  I still know very, very little.  But hey, an old(ish) dog can learn some new tricks!  I have learned that I can sing better and higher if I open my mouth wider.  And I'm learning how to breathe properly.  And how warming up makes a difference.  The feeling of being way out of my comfort zone has been balanced by the fun of learning something totally new.

* It is really, really satisfying to watch the audience as you sing and see eager, accepting smiles on their faces, or tears in their eyes, or feet tapping along.  And best is that moment when we'd finish a really beautiful song and there would be this momentary hush, then an audible sigh of satisfaction, before the applause started.  Wow.  I can see how performers get addicted to that response.

So, all in all, it has been terrific. I'm signing on for the spring season, and am already eager to see what we'll be singing.  Who knew I'd like this so much?!

Singing really is an uplifting thing.  So while you're rushing about doing your holiday chores, SING! Jingle Bells!  Hark the Herald Angels Sing!  Mele Kalikimaka!

My advice for 2011?  Try something really new.  You'll never know where it might take you.

Christmas Spirit

The Discomfort of Learning Something New

If you'd have told me a year ago that I'd be singing in a choir, and contemplating taking private voice lessons, I'd have said you were crazy.

But here I am, doing just those things.  It happened in such a round-about way, my stumbling onto the Healdsburg Community Chorus and deciding to give it a try.  It started as a seed of enthusiasm planted after watching "The Choir" on BBC America (have I raved enough about that show?!), and it really took root as an idea for something for my husband and me to do together -- he's got a lovely voice and we're in that awkward stage of parenting teens where it'd be good for us to get out of the house together.  But he wasn't enthusiastic about the idea of group singing, and to my surprise I realized that I WAS.  Hey, I liked glee club in 7th grade -- how different could it be?

So every Monday night after dinner I've trotted off to the junior high band room, to sing with fellow Healdsburg residents.  I love that it's a true community choir-- members include a guy from my local grocery store, a downtown gift store owner, the pastry chef at a local bakery, a retired police officer... lots of folks I've seen around town over the years and now run into all the time.  I love that we're singing holiday songs in preparation for holiday concerts in December.  I love practicing my soprano part, and then showing up to have everyone put their parts together to make a totally new sound. 

But I keep noticing that there are things that make me distinctly uncomfortable.  I'm not a "performing" person -- I feel most comfortable in the back of a room, or on the sidelines in a group of people.  (Luckily because I'm tall, I was placed in the back row of the choir and feel quite comfy there.)  A choir is a good fit for me in that respect -- I want my voice to blend in with the crowd's.  But learning HOW that happens is turning out to be more complex than I thought.

It's learning about how to sing properly, I guess.  How to breathe.  How to control your breathing so you can sing a line and breathe in the right places.  How to place the sound in your body to make the singing easy, rather than a strain.  How to relax your jaw and let your vocal chords reach the high notes.  How to get the right tone.  How to listen to your fellow singers so you are blending your voice appropriately.

I've never done any of this before.  (I guess 7th grade glee club was about wrangling a bunch of pre-teen kids and trying to get them all singing on key so they didn't giggle and blush when they sang about Abraham's bosom.)  Sometimes I come out of the choir feeling like my voice felt good, it flowed, I liked the sounds I made.  Other times I come out feeling frustrated, as if I squeaked my way through and didn't know why I couldn't get that flow feeling going.  Which explains the voice lessons -- a few sessions with the chorus director, really, to just help me make sure I'm doing the right things and not making it harder on myself.

It's been a long time since I was confronted with trying to learn something so different from what I ordinarily do.  This is out of my comfort zones in so many ways, but I know it's a good stretch for me.  I keep telling myself that these feelings of awkwardness and confusion are good things.  And when Miss C asks me how it went when I come home from a choir practice, I tell her the truth:  sometimes it's really fun. Sometimes it feels hard and confusing and I feel like I didn't do as well as I would like.  But I'm proud of myself for trying something new and sticking with it even though parts of it feel uncomfortable.  At dinner the other night, she said "I'm proud of you too, Mom.  I never thought my mom would be a singer!"

So, I'm modeling good things, and I'm learning new things, and I'm reminding myself that occasional discomfort is a sign of growth.

Taking Thumb Twiddling to a Whole New Level

Making a Joyful Noise

I have mentioned here before that I am smitten with Gareth Malone, the choir master and presenter of the BBC series "The Choir" which BBC America has started airing here in the US this summer.  Apparently, I am not alone.  He's a charming fellow, that Gareth.  He's determined to get real people -- kids in school, communities -- singing together, and he speaks energetically and inspiringly about the important positive effects of sharing music.  (I can't recommend these shows highly enough -- they are, I think, the most uplifting things I've ever seen on TV.)

I've been thinking about how I used to love Glee Club back in middle school -- which was the last time I sung in a group, aside from Christmas caroling parties over the years.  I really did love it -- especially the feeling of adding my thin little voice in with a bunch of others to create a really beautiful sound.  And that memory got me looking on the web to see if there were any singing groups in my area for rank amateurs for people like me -- and lo and behold, my very town has a community choir!

So, for the last several Monday nights I have trotted off to sing along with a group of 50 or so other adults who find singing fun.  It was daunting at first -- I feared an audition, which I would surely fail -- but I was reassured to learn that if I could carry a tune, I'd be in.  I spent five minutes alone in a room with the choir leader Betty, who showed me how much better I could sing if I'd just open my mouth widely -- and I found myself hitting notes I didn't know I could hit.  So I now know I'm a soprano (la la la!) and I am seated toward the back of the group (by height and I am tall) next to a lovely woman named Paula who has a beautiful clear and strong voice for me to follow.  

We are preparing for a set of holiday concerts in December, so I am now singing holiday songs all day long.  We've been given CDs with our specific parts on them -- which makes practicing quite easy, really, and I'm finding it especially nice for driving around in the car.  Yep, that's me going by, singing with my mouth wide open but the windows closed so my shrieks don't alarm others AND the bugs don't fly in! 

I have no illusions about being a great singer -- but I am having fun and I come away from each practice feeling very happy and energized.  Thank you, Gareth!

Oh -- and if you don't get the Choir, here's a video of Gareth leading a group of boys (very, very reluctant choir members at the outset of the series).  Watch this and see if it doesn't make you happy!

Music Around Us

A musician saw birds on telephone wires and translated them into musical notes...



Now, when you see birds on wires overhead, won't you wonder what tune they're playing?

Colorful Life

Terry's post today about choosing paints and colors made me think about a new TV commercial that Sherwin Williams is airing. It utterly charms me.



Makes you want to go get some paint strips, doesn't it?

Happy Yarn

Oh dear. I came across this blog and now I have a severe urge to make Granny Bunting.

Librarians Do Gaga

Something to make you smile

I am busy as a bee (well, I will be when I walk away from the computer) tidying my spaces and purging junk and otherwise trying to whittle down the STUFF that seems to surround us in this house.  So on this breezy Saturday, you can picture me rummaging through drawers with a big trash bag at my side.

But in case that doesn't cheer you, I thought I'd pass on this wonderful blog that always makes me smile:

That is Priceless, subtitled "Art's Greatest Masterpieces, Made Slightly Funnier." It's written by Steve Melcher, a Hollywood comedy writer, and he applies captions to great paintings ... and those captions are always spot-on funny.

Okay, back to my trash bag!

Smile Found Here

I am off to my Practical Design workshop today... fun and inspiration!  Meanwhile, in case you need a smile:



Kodak 'It's Time to Smile' from Paranoid US on Vimeo.

Quilt Show Delirium

I am down in the SF Bay area, attending the Pacific International Quilt Festival. I am cruising the show with my friend Pat D., and we have had an exhilarating day viewing quilts that we will never make and fondling all of the fabric we long to bring home and shove into our all-too-crowded stashes.

By 4:00, we are giddy with Quilt Overload. Still, we persevere. We admire amazing technique and gorgeous designs, and always look to see the quilt's descriptive card so we know just who to admire and envy as we ogle her (usually her) quilt.

We are standing in front of a lovely, colorful quilt. I glance over at the placard and notice that the quilter's last name is "Dippinlips." I am pondering the fate of either surviving on an elementary school playground with that last name OR loving some fellow enough to take on that last name, and say to Pat, "Her last name is Dippinlips!"

Pat looks more closely at the card. "And her first name is 'Snickle!'" We look at each other as we say, in unison, "Snickle Dippinlips?"

We fall about laughing. Trying to catch her breath, Pat looks more closely at the card. "Wait," she says, "that's the name of the QUILT. Her name is Claire Fairless."

I'm sure Claire Fairless is a lovely person -- undoubtedly quite talented, too -- but somehow we liked her better when we thought she was Snickle Dippinlips. We stagger off down the aisle, giggling helplessly, and entertain ourselves for the next hour by saying things like "Meet my good friend Snickle!" and "How lovely you look, Mrs. Dippinlips!"

Quilt shows: not for the faint-hearted.

Golden Windows

During my second year of law school, I rented an apartment over the garage in a home occupied by a lovely older woman named Mrs. Christie. She was a widow and often left treats she'd baked or vegetables she'd grown in her garden for me. She once told me a story that I think about from time to time, and when I took this picture the other evening it reminded me of it. The story goes like this:

One morning, a little girl was looking across the valley from her house, admiring the beautiful golden windows on a house on the top of the hill.

"Mom," she said, "Do you see that house on the hill with golden windows? It must be so beautiful there, and the people who live there must be so wealthy! I'll bet they have no problems and their lives are filled with happiness every day. I wish OUR HOUSE had golden windows."

"Oh, darling," replied the mother, "no one's life is perfect. Even people who live in a house with golden windows."

"No, I think you are wrong! I want to go see for myself!" So the mother packed the daughter a lunch, and away the daughter went to cross the valley and see how wonderful life was for the people who lived in the house with golden windows.

The girl walked all day long. As she reached the bottom of the valley, she lost sight of the house but kept going. It was dusk by the time she reached the top of the other hill. But to her surprise, all she found was an ordinary house. She saw no golden ornaments, nothing that made the house look different or more special than any other house. The people looked ordinary, just like the people in her own family. She was puzzled.

Disappointed, she turned around to gaze at her own house across the valley she'd just crossed. And to her surprise, her house was ablaze with light. The windows shone with gold as the setting sun lit them up. In disbelief, she looked again at the ordinary house in front of her, then back to her house gleaming across the way.

"MY house has golden windows!" she said in amazement. She stood for a moment, struck by how beautiful her house looked from this side of the valley. She took off running back down the hill, eager to return to her family. And never again did the little girl look at someone else's house, or life, with envy.

---

This house -- and yes, it is a single family home (when it was being built, we all thought it was a hotel or a fancy clubhouse for a country club or something) sits on the hill above my neighborhood. It's a bit "king of the county" for my taste, but it sure looks beautiful at sunset.

I'll be catching up on my blogging! I promise!

Unfortunately

"Small things amuse small minds," my mother used to joke when one of us kids would become absorbed by something silly. I think of this saying often, especially because I'm often entertained by goofy little things.

Helen turned me on to something that amuses the heck out of me -- and at the risk of demonstrating how easily amused I am, I'm spreading it here. It's one of those Google games. You search the phrase "Unfortunately [insert your name]" and then read the results for general hilarity.

Here are a few of the ones that got me grinning:

Unfortunately, Diane is no longer breeding

Unfortunately Diane didn’t have the strength to take on a troubled teenager

Unfortunately, Diane can only offer this service for brides who have booked a couture gown with her

Unfortunately, Diane (The Cake Lady), has retired.

Unfortunately, Diane could not easily use the new gadgets

Unfortunately, Diane had an accident while away last week and will be convalescing for at least a month

Unfortunately, Diane had to take a break from teaching because of the devastating effects of a rare and incurable blood disease.

Unfortunately, Diane who is estimated to be 13 years of age, was found in lower Manhattan with a severely arthritic wing

Unfortunately, Diane isn't a credible character

Yeah, I know. Easily amused. But I'll bet you're headed off to Google now to see how YOUR name comes up...

Need Color? See Kris.

Are you in need of color inspiration? Need a smile? Want something so light your creative spark?

Well, then go look at Kris's Color Stripes. Yes. Right now.

Kris is a an artist and fashion designer who has an amazing eye for color. And she shares her simple, elegant view on a blog where she just extracts color from images that catch her eye. What a simple concept, right? But the images she chooses, and the colors she pulls out of each picture, are just perfect. I think it looks easy, but each gem of a set is so RIGHT that I know there's art and talent at work here.

When I look at her blog, I feel like I've had a little art-spa time -- relaxing and energizing at the same time.

So go douse yourself in color. (And tell Kris I sent you.)

Pink on a Grey Day

It's a very grey and rainy day here today, so I thought I'd cheer myself up with a few shots of blooms on my favorite camellia bush in the backyard.

Because, you know, sometimes I just need a good dose of PINK.



I feel better already.