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I feel complete frustration when I see celebrities, spontaneously popping in on someone or in some venue, and everyone in the audience instantly pulls out their phone to record the whole thing.  I have always felt that if I ever happened to come in contact with some celebrity, I would just take in the whole moment.  I wouldn't make them feel awkward, but I would let them continue on with their life of normalcy while I quietly observed them. Yeah, right... Jung-Ho Pak is the conductor of conductors for kids.  I doubt there is any other symphonic conductor who is known for being able to work with high school musicians like he can.  In a week, he rehearses these teenagers for a concert that takes most other orchestras months to prepare.  He expects a lot, and the kids are happy to oblige, because they respect him so much. When Mark attended Interlochen, he refused to get a picture with Jung-Ho Pak.  Ever.  It wasn't until John dragged Mark over to Jung-Ho over lunch that we

Digging into the deep recesses of my mind, I remember there exists some law, or property about a vacuum.  I think I learned about it in chemistry in high school, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was introduced to me in physics, seeing as I pretty much failed those classes. The law, or property, or whatever-it-is went like this:  if there is a vacuum (like a void in space, NOT a Dirt Devil, or Dyson), air will always try and move in.  In other words, the vacuum won't stay empty if at all possible. Crazy how that idea works with life too. We are headed on our annual pilgrammage to Interlochen.  I'll be there for four weeks, and then John will join me. This summer, I put my foot down about projects.  Actually, that's a lie.  I'm the one who always "suggests" the projects, so I take full responsibility for all the work and stress I have given to John.  It's easy to be the visionary, hard to be the implementer. For the past five summers, John has

In genealogy, there are primary sources and secondary sources.  Primary sources are events that are recorded when they happen by people who were directly involved (birth certificates, baptisms), and secondary sources are events that are recorded after the event, and not necessarily by someone who witnessed the event (obituaries, Bible records). As much as I would love for this post to be written by a primary source (aka Ethan), I don't think that's going to happen.  Instead, you will get my version of his love story with Rebecca, pieced together from different things he has told me. Last December, a friend of mine, Emily Rayburn, came up to Ethan at church and told him that he wanted to set him up with her youngest sister, Rebecca.  The Schriever family is from Warfordsburg, PA where Emily and Rebecca's dad is a dairy farmer. Ethan was all for it.  He called up Rebecca, and they went out on a triple date with some of Johannah's friends from church.  I believe it

My girls have frequently lamented the fact that there is no program like Boy Scouts for girls.  There are softer versions (Girl Scouts), but nothing hard core.  Nothing that requires the demands of earning merit badges, no "one match" fires to build, no camps without showers, and no Eagle ranks to be achieved.  While I'm definitely not one of those crazy people who want the Boy Scouts to change their core values, or who feels that men-only tournaments and clubs should be open to women, I wish there was a twin sister organization for the Boy Scouts.  Boys Scouts, but with girls. This week is "Girls' Camp", sponsored by our church.  While the girls are having fun socially, they are definitely missing the experiences that they know their brothers and dad had.  Here's an excerpt from a letter I wrote to Mark today, explaining the situation: So, crazy story (why else would I be writing?)   The girls headed to camp on Wednesday morning (afte

If you are a man, I would suggest you skip this post altogether (with the exception of John and David).  I'm going to share far more information than I would ever share, because I know there are people out there who might find this rather fascinating. I don't like talking about female physiology.  I especially don't like hearing birth stories.  While I nursed all four of my babies for a year each, I'm not an advocate of nursing in public.  I have never offered sympathy to girls or women who use a "monthly" excuse to get out of doing anything.  Men aren't talking about their hormones at cocktail parties, and I don't believe women should either. With that in mind, I had a surgery this past Monday that has been years in coming. I had a vaginal hysterectomy. Goo, I know.  I hate even typing the "v" word into my blog.  However, I have told myself that this blog is a forum to record everything in my life.  And there it is. I know there ar

Who can forget this classic clip from Jurassic Park? Velociraptors in the kitchen For the purpose of this post, you only need to watch the first 20 seconds or so.  Notice how the first velociraptor uses four distinct calls to signal his friends? I wake up to this call every morning now, and I hate it. Across our street (and over the hill from our home) lives a family of crows.  Each year, there is a new brood, and each year they cause trouble. The first year, if we didn't have the lid on our garbage can locked and loaded, the crows would strew all contents of our garbage bags on the road on garbage day. Two years ago, it didn't take them long to discover our pond--fresh water available 24/7. Last year, they successfully managed to rid our newly plowed field of corn seeds. This summer?  They have taken a liking to dog food. That's right--the scavenger bird that is only supposed to eat roadside dead animals likes processed, hard, dog food. Some nights (mos

No, I'm not talking about Beyonce's song. No, I'm not talking about the visual effect caused by a migraine. No, I'm not talking about an angel's headpiece. I'm talking about the video game, HALO (specifically for XBOX 360, if you really want to know). This game has been a centerpiece of Kennedy game play for several years now.  At first, I resisted bringing it into our home, because I heard it was rather violent.  But, as is usually the case, the kids convince me that I'm overreacting, wear me down, and it comes home.  Pokemon cards are a perfect example of this, right Cheese? Because I love to play video games, I sat down with John in the beginning, and he tried to show me how it works.  I understand the game, and I understand what I'm supposed to do, but for some strange reason, my brain can't wrap itself around the controller. I've held a lot of controllers in my time:  PlayStation, the original Nintendo, Super Nintendo, Sega Dream