Snow has fallen, snow on snow

What a gorgeous snow this has been! It's snowed on and off, ever since Friday, atypical Utah-like fine powder. Church was cut short today and we inched home through the blowing snow, after Lauren and I played a flute duet and Greg played his bass in a quintet.

Today I'm grateful for that hushed feeling that a snowstorm brings.
And that we contracted with a guy to come and plow our driveway.
And that I can make music with my daughter, who has spent many hours becoming a better flutist than I am.  
For singing along with the radio's You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch and Sleigh Ride at the top of our lungs as we took our modern sleigh ride home.  
And for fantastic movies. Greg and I saw Slum Dog Millionaire yesterday (which, so you know, is rated R for scenes of extreme poverty which would not be appropriate for children to see. Or live in, for that matter.)

and then later watched the wonderful Bella last night at home.

Food for my soul...I highly recommend both.  
I'm also grateful for playing games on the floor of the family room.  
And for writing Christmas cards and pausing to smile at memories and how much we love every single one of these people from all the phases of our lives (and wish we all lived closer to each other still).
And curling up with books in our favorite spots.
Even for tough times that help me appreciate blessed weekends like this one.
I'm grateful for busy present making behind closed doors.

For anticipation, building.

Hello? Casey Kasem?

I'm taking a few minutes out of my madly procrastinated finals-and-papers weeks* to send out a couple of long distance dedications. I've been listening to my ipod while I work and can't help stopping to listen to these two songs when they come up, like my 12-year-old self stopping and rewinding and relistening to "Endless Love" over and over again. That I recorded from the radio, probably a Casey Kasem long distance dedication itself.

1.
I've been a bit obsessed with Adele lately. Anyone else? I love her bluesy, smoky voice--very Ella and Etta-ish. Her cover of "Feel My Love" is dedicated to (of course) G. Not technically a "long distance dedication" but I've been in a fog of obligations/stresses/mild-grade depression for the last...oh...let's be honest...two months and he's been amazing. Rather neglected and yet amazing.

Unfortunately, he won't get this because he hardly ever reads my blog. But there's no reason why you can't benefit! If you are looking for a new favorite love song, this might be it. (I choose to interpret it as very loving rather than slightly stalkerish.)

2.
I'm putting together a slide show for a program with the young women I work with at church. I've tried lots of different music for the background and finally decided on this one by India Arie--it always makes me feel better. So it's dedicated to my daughters and those young women (who don't read my blog) but also to my friends who are trying hard things. Playing big. Who struggle sometimes. Yeah, you. I hope you feel better, get through this, find some light, and know how amazing you are.

Tell me this doesn't do something wonderful for your heart:

She leaves my favorite verse out of this version:

The next time the radio tells you
to shake your money maker
Shake your head instead
And tell them you're a leader...

Okay, that's all. Kind of cheesy, I know. My melancholy is showing. Feel free to leave a long-distance dedication of your own.

______

*Dear Tufts President, Having finals in December, right before Christmas, is not very friendly to the moms who are students. Should I get and decorate a tree or should I research parent cognitions? Should I order/get presents for the children or should I prepare for my stats final? Should I study child development or see to my own children's Christmas memories? See the conflict?

Playing big

Today as I was watching my daughter's violin lesson, her wonderful teacher Cate asked "Maddy, do you consider yourself to be someone who holds pieces of herself back & tries to take up less room? Or do you think of yourself as someone who opens right up and shares with everybody and isn't afraid to be noticed?"

"Well...both, I guess." (Which is true...she does both. Maybe we all do.)

"Hmm. Right now your violin is asking you to open up more.  To be bigger.  To take up space. To share more of what you're feeling through your music.  It's a great invitation!  Can you do it?"

Meanwhile, I'm over on the scratchy sofa, inspired and inwardly nodding my head and saying "Yes, I can, Cate. I will play bigger.  I will share. I will take up space."  

My life has been asking that of me lately, too, and it's scary: a challenging new church calling, for example. A chance to step up and demonstrate what I've learned in an unfamiliar setting. And a lingering desire to express myself in writing.  I'm a walking contradiction (um, my first blog was called Ambitious Homebody...that about sums it up). I want to rise to the challenge that opportunities bring.  But I also crave staying well within my comfort zone.  Preferably with jammies on. Pieces of this Nelson Mandela passage have been rattling around my brain so I had to go look it up:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Amen, Nelson Mandela. You know what you're talking about, sir.

[I have edited this a couple of times as I've thought about it further. Sorry for the re-publishing!]

Good Morning Maxfield {and to you, too}

My cousin Jeremy (that's him in the middle in the jacket) is the bass player in a terrific band, Good Morning Maxfield. They have been chosen as one of the top 20 bands in the nation to compete for a spot in the Austin City Limits Festival this year.  It's a Big Deal.  They now need your vote this week to get to the final round in Austin.

You can help with one click! Dreams coming true right there, folks!

With just a little click of your pointer finger!

Go to this link and vote for them.

Vote for Good Morning Maxfield

{You can vote every day until this Saturday.}

I figure the other bands probably have the college vote

but do they have the mommy blogger vote?

I think not!

p.s. these photos were taken on the front porch of my grandparents' house. 

I love that place.

{photos via Good Morning Maxfield}

***Update: Thanks so much, everyone who voted.  I just checked the Austin City Limits website and it looks like Good Morning Maxfield made it into the top 5, which means they're headed to Austin for the next round.  Yay!***

Concert roundup

Pre concert:

We planned on leaving for the concert by 4:30 since we would have to try to make it around Boston in rush hour traffic, which could easily take a couple of hours.  My beloved but time-optimistic (read: often late) husband called at 4:30 from work.  Since I am a bit of an early arrival maniac, this got my heart rate going just a tad.  Then, in a little internal lecture to myself, I decided to not sweat the small stuff.  Except out loud to G I promised to get really mad (issuing an anger i.o.u.) if we missed Elvis Costello.

Not to worry, guys!  We got there in plenty of time (especially since I thought it started at 7. Oops.)  So I ripped up the anger i.o.u. + was glad I wasn't prematurely bitter.

First priority, get sustenance.  And try to peek into the VIP tent section for local celebrity sightings.  No Tom Brady or weathercasters or Kennedys.  Where else would they want to be, I wonder?

Next stop,  the tshirt stand, where we laugh at the earplugs for sale and deliberate on a tshirt selection.  I chose #7, the white one with the pink lettering.  It's pleasingly retro, like I've had it for years and don't care a bit about fancy new tshirts.  But, obviously, I DO care about fancy new tshirts because I paid concert prices for one.  (Speaking of pleasingly retro, look at my beautiful sister Nancy who was stopped on the street in NYC for a photo blog. Cool, yes?)

Then we settled down to our seats.  We were very geeky...the first ones in our section pretty much.  Did I mention I'm a little particular about being early?  At exactly 7:25 (as Deirdre pointed out yesterday five minutes EARLY) Elvis started.  Oh, I love him.  His slower ballads are my favorites.  His new album is called Momofuku and G had great fun trying to say that all night.  Turns out it's pronounced a little differently than you might worry.

Sting came out and joined Elvis on Allison, which was very cool (but not unexpected since I had seen the video clip already).  Two great voices + it was thrill to hear them together.

Here we are waiting for the Police to come on: 

(I never like these hold-the-camera-up-and-snap-yourself photos. Oh well.)
And the Police set was marvelous. He's aging well, that Sting. Yoga serves him well.

Finally, this one's for you, Jackson.  The quality is poor, you can't really see Sting but that WOO-HOO at the beginning?  One hundred percent, enthusiastic, thrilled me.

Today my ears are ringing and I'm saying "WHAT?!" and "huh?" a lot. Maybe I should have taken the earplugs.