Skip to main content

Going Back to Middle School

Middle School.  That's a weird term that my kids have used to describe sixth through eighth grade.  When I was growing up, it was "junior high".  Whatever the name, I think it's still the same experience ;-)

I've been accompanying the Slauson Middle School choir for the last year.  I love the gig.  The music is never very hard, I get out and have a life with someone other than the cats and dogs, Mr. Steck (the choir director) thinks I am God's gift to the piano, and I get paid in restaurant gift cards.  What's not to love?

Not wanting to set a bad example, I don't like to pull out my phone to take pictures of the experience.  But John has never remembered to take a picture of me at concerts (even when I was playing on my old high school stage).  So I snapped a quick one at rehearsal.  It's a really funny picture though because it looks like two boys are dancing.  Really, they were practicing moves for a funny Christmas song, and I couldn't help but chuckle at the awkwardness of all of those young teenagers.

I love this gig.




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Like Dominos....

It all began with glare.  Simple, obnoxious, I-can't-stand-it-anymore glare. Our 60" rear projection TV in the family room was basically unviewable except after 10 o'clock at night.  The glare from the windows was making it impossible to see anything during my 10 minute lunch break each day, and something had to change. Too, the TV didn't fit in the entertainment center from Germany.  John, wanting bigger and better, hadn't considered that the space is only 40" wide.  For the past five years, I have been nagged by 6" of overhang on both sides of the TV stand. I went to Lowe's to price blinds.  $1,043 for five blinds, and that was at 20% off. I figured a new TV would be cheaper than that.  I was right, even with the state-of-the-art receiver and new HDMI cables that sly salesman told us we needed to have. But where to put the old TV?  It just needed a quiet, dark place to retire. Glo's bedroom.  Her TV was a relic from the paleoneoneand...

The Quest for Birkenstocks

One of the main reasons I go to Germany every couple of years is to restock my supply of Birkenstocks.  I started buying them when I lived there, and I basically can't live without them now.  It just about kills me when a pair runs its course and needs to be thrown away.  I think in my lifetime, I've thrown away only three pairs.  One that never was quite right (the straps were plastic and would cut into my skin after a long day), one pair that I wore gardening one too many times (the brown dirt stains wouldn't come out of the white leather), and the pair that I was wearing when I broke my ankle (they were an unfortunate casualty of broken ankle PTSD because those purple and blue paisleys go down as one of my favorite pairs of all time).  I only threw out the garden ones a couple of days before I left for Germany, because I knew I would be getting a new pair. The only store where I have ever bought my Birkenstocks is Hoffmann's in Speicher.  (Well okay, t...

Thinking Beyond Ourselves

In our church, most adults hold a “calling”.  What this really means is they have a job, or a specific way to serve within the local congregation.  We believe that this calling is inspired from God—it’s a specific way that he wants us to serve, so that we can either learn and grow ourselves, or so that we can help someone else. I have had more callings in the church than I can count, and with few exceptions, I have loved every one of them.  I have come to love people (adults, teens and kids) who I might never have met.  I have learned much--from how to organize a Christmas music program, to how to make a Sunday School lesson meaningful to apathetic teenagers.  I have served as president of the children’s organization, and I have been the leader of 30 young, single adults. With every calling comes a lot of work.  Of course, the amount of work one puts into a calling is up to an individual.  I choose to put everything into a calling.  I give up ho...