Wow is all I can say. Tonight, my sweetie and I went to see the Vienna Boys Choir...in Alexander City! It was awesome. The choir was conducted by Florian Schwarz. Florian Schwartz was born in Vienna. He has an extensive resume himself and has only been conducting one of the Weiner Sangerknabens four concert choirs since 2008. The concert itself was divided into four parts. The first part of their presentation was of a religious or classical venue. My favorite song was a South American didty called Gloria (from Missa Criolla) and composed by Ariel Ramirez. Ok, you all know I teach Spanish...and when the conductor pulled out the Spanish guitarra...and one of the boys picked up the Djimbe...I was captured. Gaudete, arranged by Gerald Wirth was my second favorite...because the conductor played a Boudrain. It was amazing...he would give the boys the pitch to the song...and BAM...they would hit it head on! After the intermission they sang Songs from Around the World, Popular Music, and then Vienna Classics. It was hard to understand the words to most of the songs because they were not in English....but the beauty was in the harmonics and purities of the voices. The amazing thing about the Vienna Boys Choir is that it began in 1498, but until 1918 sang exclusively for the imperial court, at mass, at private concerts and functions, and on state occasions. When the Hapsburg Empire ended in 1918 the Choir became a private institution and became Weiner Sangerknaben, their uniforms became the sailor suits, and because there was not enough money to pay for their upkeep, they started giving outside concerts in 1926. The choristers are between the ages of ten and fourteen and divied into four touring groups. They give about 300 concerts a year....during a nine to eleven week period. The choir maintains its own school and they rehearse in the Auzartenpalais, which is the former imperial hunting lodge of Vienna. Instruction begins in kindergarten for both boys and girls. They are provided with a complete musical and general education throughout elementary school. At ten, the most talented boys are selected to join the choir and enter the choir's grammar school until they are fourteen. Each boy selected is assigned to a touring choir. If you get a chance to go and hear them....believe me it is worth the money.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Vienna Boys Choir - Weiner Sangerknaben
Wow is all I can say. Tonight, my sweetie and I went to see the Vienna Boys Choir...in Alexander City! It was awesome. The choir was conducted by Florian Schwarz. Florian Schwartz was born in Vienna. He has an extensive resume himself and has only been conducting one of the Weiner Sangerknabens four concert choirs since 2008. The concert itself was divided into four parts. The first part of their presentation was of a religious or classical venue. My favorite song was a South American didty called Gloria (from Missa Criolla) and composed by Ariel Ramirez. Ok, you all know I teach Spanish...and when the conductor pulled out the Spanish guitarra...and one of the boys picked up the Djimbe...I was captured. Gaudete, arranged by Gerald Wirth was my second favorite...because the conductor played a Boudrain. It was amazing...he would give the boys the pitch to the song...and BAM...they would hit it head on! After the intermission they sang Songs from Around the World, Popular Music, and then Vienna Classics. It was hard to understand the words to most of the songs because they were not in English....but the beauty was in the harmonics and purities of the voices. The amazing thing about the Vienna Boys Choir is that it began in 1498, but until 1918 sang exclusively for the imperial court, at mass, at private concerts and functions, and on state occasions. When the Hapsburg Empire ended in 1918 the Choir became a private institution and became Weiner Sangerknaben, their uniforms became the sailor suits, and because there was not enough money to pay for their upkeep, they started giving outside concerts in 1926. The choristers are between the ages of ten and fourteen and divied into four touring groups. They give about 300 concerts a year....during a nine to eleven week period. The choir maintains its own school and they rehearse in the Auzartenpalais, which is the former imperial hunting lodge of Vienna. Instruction begins in kindergarten for both boys and girls. They are provided with a complete musical and general education throughout elementary school. At ten, the most talented boys are selected to join the choir and enter the choir's grammar school until they are fourteen. Each boy selected is assigned to a touring choir. If you get a chance to go and hear them....believe me it is worth the money.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
A Tiny Entry
I knew she existed before anyone else did when the plus sign appeared on the pregnancy test....
I sat by the toilet for the few months of pregnancy, willing away the sickness.....
I carried her for nine months and counted the stretch marks as they appeared on my stomach......
I pushed her into the world (with the drugs, for my sanity)......
I nursed her for a little over two years....
I changed her diapers, bathed her, got up with her when she decided that two AM was an appropriate time to wake up....
I stay home with her all day...
But still....
.......she is a Daddy's Girl
I sat by the toilet for the few months of pregnancy, willing away the sickness.....
I carried her for nine months and counted the stretch marks as they appeared on my stomach......
I pushed her into the world (with the drugs, for my sanity)......
I nursed her for a little over two years....
I changed her diapers, bathed her, got up with her when she decided that two AM was an appropriate time to wake up....
I stay home with her all day...
But still....
.......she is a Daddy's Girl
SIFAT
SIFAT, or Servants in Faith and Technology is the neatest place I have ever been. The District for which Frank is a pastor had their Pastor-Spouse Picnic there this past summer and my eyes were made clear. I could not believe that such a place existed. I want to share with you all just exactly what SIFAT does and why their work is important. "Servants in Faith And Technology is a Christian nonprofit organization that provides training in self-help programs for a needy world. 
SIFAT offers opportunities for Christians to get involved personally, both to learn from others and to partner with them in missions. The idea of SIFAT was conceived in the jungles of the Alto Beni of Bolivia in 1976 when Ken and Sarah Corson took their four children and moved to Sapecho to be pastors of a Bolivian church. Realizing that the homesteaders there needed more than spiritual nourishment, Ken and Sarah began work in integrated development with the people of the village. The Quechuan mayor of the town, Benjo Paredes, became a Christian that year and has been a great Christian community leader. Benjo and Ken cofounded CENATEC (Centro Nacional de Tecnologia Sustenible), a nonprofit Christian organization in Bolivia. CENATEC was the mother organization out of which SIFAT was born. In 1979, the Corsons returned to Alabama and established SIFAT as a training center for meeting basic human needs. Since then, CENATEC and SIFAT have worked closely in many endeavors." In the trainging site, the missionaries in training learn about developing water treatment method, learn how to make bricks, garden...it is amazing...there in Clay County, Alabama you will find three third world countries in all their splendor/squallor and glory/grossness. 
There is housing....just like you would see in that country/region, there is a water system....just like you would find in that country....there are beds....just like you would sleep on in that country....and believe me, Goldilocks would have left the Three Bears home long before she did with these beds. 
They are definitely not Sleep number Mattresses. SIFAT follows a series of principles. The principles of development which SIFAT promotes:•God is the creator of all things. All things are integrated: if a new technology is accepted into a village, it will change that village socially, physically, economically and spiritually. The Gospel of Jesus includes integrated development and affects the physical, spiritual, mental, social, economic, political and all other aspects of life.
•SIFAT works with all people, not just those who hold the same beliefs. This does not negate, but rather emphasizes, Christianity.
•SIFAT encourages long-term development, instead of short-term relief.
•SIFAT strives for every word and deed among the poor to build their self-esteem, to affirm their potential and to help them become more in themselves rather than just having more for the moment. Those things that create dependency are rejected in favor of those that develop self-sufficiency. A brother/sister relationship is cultivated, rather than a paternalistic/materialistic one. SIFAT does not do things for people, but with people.
•To receive help from SIFAT, overseas partners must develop a plan for their priority project that appears to be sustainable. They must identify their resources and communicate the resources they lack. Then SIFAT considers whether a partnership would be effective.
•Help is not doing for people what they can do for themselves, except occasionally lending a hand as a way of walking in someone's shoes and showing solidarity. Help is doing what they cannot do, after they have done or are planning to do all they can.
•SIFAT welcomes others to join with us in the exciting journey of allowing the Spirit of God to change people's vision and alleviating some of the alienation and lostness in our world today.
When we left the campus of SIFAT I was in awe of all they do. It really hit home when the earthquake hit Haiti. SIFAT was there....and was installing a water treatment facility. It means more to me today....because I have been there, seen that, and will never be the same.Want to know more about SIFAT? Check out their website: SIFAT
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Let There Be Light
It happened yesterday around 11:30 in the morning.
I had just returned home from another adventure at Wal-mart—I swear, the store is like stepping into an entirely different world. Suddenly half the people you pass look as though they’re about to keel over and the other half have stepped right out of a page from peopleofwalmart.com. I passed by a woman in a leopard print jacket and pants (!) sniffing a bag of grapes. She had her nose in the bag and was inhaling. I wanted to ask her what she was doing but, well, she was sniffing grapes and I was worried that she might hurl the bag at me. So I just quickly walked away.
Anyhow, so I get home, put all the stuff that I bought away (mmm, cookie cake) and then there was a pop and....
...nothing.
It was absolutely silent.
It took me a few seconds to register the fact that our power had gone out.
Crap.
I sent a text message to my friend Amanda asking if her power had gone out. But no, hers was on. So then I started to panic that it was just our house. Did I push a wrong button? Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown the remote across the room. I decided to ask the neighbor if her power was out.
“Huh?” she said.
“Your power. Is it out?” I answered.
She scrunched up her nose thoughtfully. “Huh,” she said again and then flipped a light switch. Nothing happened. “I guess not.”
So it wasn’t just my house. I felt a little bit better but still slightly annoyed. Why was the power out? Didn’t the military know that I was eager to watch the latest episode of Inside Edition? It’s like People magazine except the TV version.
An hour went by. My lips were hurting because I had to keep blowing bubbles for Natalie. How can she be so enthused over a bunch of bubbles? Didn’t she want to play with something else?
“How about we color?” I suggested hopefully. Please. For the love of God please no more bubbles…
“I want bubbles,” Natalie said and stuck the bubble wand at my face. A trail of soap trickled down my cheek.
“I have to make a phone call,” I said, jumping up and rushing into the kitchen. I had to get away from those bubbles. For a brief second I contemplated taking the No Spill bubble bucket and hiding it in my car. (“I don’t know what happened to your bubbles,” I pictured myself saying to Natalie, arms out in mock confusion.)
I dialed the number for housing maintenance. Since I live on base it’s the number I have to call if I have any issues with the house. At that moment I had a big issue. My power was out and I was pissed.
“Yes, hi, how long is the power supposed to be out for?” I asked this politely even though I wanted to say, “Is the power going to be up so I can watch the newest Bachelor tonight?” I swear, I’m not an avid fan of the show. I just like the drama. And making fun of Jake, who seems to be a bit of a drama whore (“do I have to give out two roses?”)
“It should be up in an hour or so,” I was told.
Ugh.
I hung up and when I turned around, Natalie stood there holding the bubble wand out.
“For you,” she said.
I’m going to have nightmares about giant bubbles chasing me, I just know it.
As we sat on the floor blowing more bubbles, I could hear the rumble of a truck outside. For a second my heart lifted—MAIL, I HAVE MAIL!—I had thought it was the UPS truck you see. But then I remembered that I hadn’t ordered a thing. I peeked out the window and saw three fire trucks. I thought, hey, maybe they came to fix the power!
A few minutes later, a fireman knocked on my door.
And he was an attractive fireman too. I immediately felt ridiculous standing there with my wild hair and my sweatpants with my sweatshirt that says, “CRANKY” across the front under Oscar the Grouch’s face. I wanted to hold up a finger and say, “Could you hold on for a sec?” And then I’d shut the door, brush my hair, throw on a shirt that didn’t depict children’s characters, and swipe on some makeup. But obviously I couldn’t do that.
“Yes?” I said, surreptitiously trying to neaten up my hair. Why does it have to be so thick and unruly? Why? The only time it likes me is when I put expensive cream in it and I’m sorry, that’s not always going to happen.
“Your neighbor’s carbon monoxide alarm went off and as a precaution, we want to check your house to see if everything is okay,” the fireman that I named Charlie, after my favorite character on Lost, said. He was standing there in full fireman gear too. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked, and at first I thought he asked me that because I was just staring at him. But then I realized he wanted to make sure I didn’t have carbon monoxide poisoning.
“I’m great,” I said, opening the door to let him in.
The fireman fixed his eyes on the carbon monoxide alarm that I had pulled out of the plug. It had started to go off and I assumed it was because the power had gone out. (In my defense, our upstairs not plugged in carbon monoxide alarm had not gone off.)
“Did you do that?” he said sternly.
I was tempted to say, “My daughter did that! Shame on her!” But I couldn’t do that. Especially when Natalie was standing right there. She has a mouth on her and I imagined she would have said, “I DID NOT! MOMMY LIES!” So I went, “Err…yes….it wouldn’t shut up. I mean, it wouldn’t stop beeping. And I assumed it was because the power went off....” (I didn’t tell him that I had contemplated kicking it across the room if it wouldn’t have shut up..)
The fireman did not look happy.
“You can spank me if you want,” I added. I’m kidding. I didn’t say that. But in my mind the words, “You can spank me with your hose if you want,” filtered through my brain. I mean, how inappropriate is that? His hose can be taken in so many different ways and I could have been slapped with a sexual harassment suit. (“I was just making sure this poor housewife wasn’t poisoned by carbon monoxide and she told me to spank her with my hose,” I could see the fireman tattle in a courtroom.)
“I’m sorry,” I said meekly.
“Next time, you call us, even if you do think it’s because of the power. It probably is because of the power but you need to be safe,” he lectured.
“Yes,” I said, nodding. I almost added “sir,” to the end.
Then there was another knock on my door. Two more attractive firemen stood there.
Good gracious, was it my birthday or what?
“We’ve come to help sweep your house,” one said. When he smiled I could see a row of sparkling white teeth. I named him Dan.
“Come in,” I said, opening the door.
They carried equipment and started going through the house. When they walked in the laundry room I remembered that I had UNDERWEAR in a basket in there. It was clean but still. I practically sat on top of the basket when they came in. I pretended it was a perfectly acceptable chair.
“Are we okay?” I wondered, because they had gotten silent as they stared at their machines.
It turns out we were.
Phew.
“You guys wouldn’t happen to know when the power will be back on, would you?” I asked before they left.
“I heard 1245,” the one named Charlie answered.
I checked my cell phone. “It’s already past one.”
He snored. “Typical Air Force.”
And then they left.
Typical Air Force indeed.
What I found amusing is throughout all of this, Tom kept sleeping. He works the night shift so he sleeps during the day. You would have thought that he would have heard the male voices but no. So this means I can have John Krasinski over and he wouldn’t even know. Sweet. (Kidding, Tom.)
When he finally did wake up, it was going on 4 and the power still wasn’t up.
“What’s happening?” he asked, blinking. He frowned at the blank TV.
“The power is out,” I explained.
He scratched the side of his head and spun around. “Why?”
“I decided to try out a life without electricity. Newsflash, it sucks,” I said sarcastically.
Tom doesn’t get sarcasm when he firsts wakes up so he was all, “I’m confused.”
He understood it all ten minutes later.
When he left for work a half hour later, the power was still out.
I couldn’t cook in the dark (YAY) so I took the kids to Olive Garden. It was my first time going to a restaurant without Tom. But guess what? My kids were fantastic. They sat and the only mishap was when Natalie dropped a delicious breadstick on the floor (“we must be kind to the breadsticks, Natalie, they’re like little sticks of Heaven..”)
When we got home, the power was still out.
I was seething.
And then, right when I was about to send a text to Amanda over how the Air Force could kiss my pale ass, the power came back on.
“Let there be LIGHT!” I shrieked and did a happy dance in my living room. “I had a fantastic daydream about all you lights...and you were there, and you....” I said, speaking to the sources of light in the living room.
“Mommy, why are you hugging the lamp?” Tommy asked.
Oh. I hadn’t realized that I was.
I just got carried away, I guess.
This just proves that I could never go without electricity.
Beautiful, beautiful electricity.
The Amish don’t know what they’re missing, really.
I had just returned home from another adventure at Wal-mart—I swear, the store is like stepping into an entirely different world. Suddenly half the people you pass look as though they’re about to keel over and the other half have stepped right out of a page from peopleofwalmart.com. I passed by a woman in a leopard print jacket and pants (!) sniffing a bag of grapes. She had her nose in the bag and was inhaling. I wanted to ask her what she was doing but, well, she was sniffing grapes and I was worried that she might hurl the bag at me. So I just quickly walked away.
Anyhow, so I get home, put all the stuff that I bought away (mmm, cookie cake) and then there was a pop and....
...nothing.
It was absolutely silent.
It took me a few seconds to register the fact that our power had gone out.
Crap.
I sent a text message to my friend Amanda asking if her power had gone out. But no, hers was on. So then I started to panic that it was just our house. Did I push a wrong button? Maybe I shouldn’t have thrown the remote across the room. I decided to ask the neighbor if her power was out.
“Huh?” she said.
“Your power. Is it out?” I answered.
She scrunched up her nose thoughtfully. “Huh,” she said again and then flipped a light switch. Nothing happened. “I guess not.”
So it wasn’t just my house. I felt a little bit better but still slightly annoyed. Why was the power out? Didn’t the military know that I was eager to watch the latest episode of Inside Edition? It’s like People magazine except the TV version.
An hour went by. My lips were hurting because I had to keep blowing bubbles for Natalie. How can she be so enthused over a bunch of bubbles? Didn’t she want to play with something else?
“How about we color?” I suggested hopefully. Please. For the love of God please no more bubbles…
“I want bubbles,” Natalie said and stuck the bubble wand at my face. A trail of soap trickled down my cheek.
“I have to make a phone call,” I said, jumping up and rushing into the kitchen. I had to get away from those bubbles. For a brief second I contemplated taking the No Spill bubble bucket and hiding it in my car. (“I don’t know what happened to your bubbles,” I pictured myself saying to Natalie, arms out in mock confusion.)
I dialed the number for housing maintenance. Since I live on base it’s the number I have to call if I have any issues with the house. At that moment I had a big issue. My power was out and I was pissed.
“Yes, hi, how long is the power supposed to be out for?” I asked this politely even though I wanted to say, “Is the power going to be up so I can watch the newest Bachelor tonight?” I swear, I’m not an avid fan of the show. I just like the drama. And making fun of Jake, who seems to be a bit of a drama whore (“do I have to give out two roses?”)
“It should be up in an hour or so,” I was told.
Ugh.
I hung up and when I turned around, Natalie stood there holding the bubble wand out.
“For you,” she said.
I’m going to have nightmares about giant bubbles chasing me, I just know it.
As we sat on the floor blowing more bubbles, I could hear the rumble of a truck outside. For a second my heart lifted—MAIL, I HAVE MAIL!—I had thought it was the UPS truck you see. But then I remembered that I hadn’t ordered a thing. I peeked out the window and saw three fire trucks. I thought, hey, maybe they came to fix the power!
A few minutes later, a fireman knocked on my door.
And he was an attractive fireman too. I immediately felt ridiculous standing there with my wild hair and my sweatpants with my sweatshirt that says, “CRANKY” across the front under Oscar the Grouch’s face. I wanted to hold up a finger and say, “Could you hold on for a sec?” And then I’d shut the door, brush my hair, throw on a shirt that didn’t depict children’s characters, and swipe on some makeup. But obviously I couldn’t do that.
“Yes?” I said, surreptitiously trying to neaten up my hair. Why does it have to be so thick and unruly? Why? The only time it likes me is when I put expensive cream in it and I’m sorry, that’s not always going to happen.
“Your neighbor’s carbon monoxide alarm went off and as a precaution, we want to check your house to see if everything is okay,” the fireman that I named Charlie, after my favorite character on Lost, said. He was standing there in full fireman gear too. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked, and at first I thought he asked me that because I was just staring at him. But then I realized he wanted to make sure I didn’t have carbon monoxide poisoning.
“I’m great,” I said, opening the door to let him in.
The fireman fixed his eyes on the carbon monoxide alarm that I had pulled out of the plug. It had started to go off and I assumed it was because the power had gone out. (In my defense, our upstairs not plugged in carbon monoxide alarm had not gone off.)
“Did you do that?” he said sternly.
I was tempted to say, “My daughter did that! Shame on her!” But I couldn’t do that. Especially when Natalie was standing right there. She has a mouth on her and I imagined she would have said, “I DID NOT! MOMMY LIES!” So I went, “Err…yes….it wouldn’t shut up. I mean, it wouldn’t stop beeping. And I assumed it was because the power went off....” (I didn’t tell him that I had contemplated kicking it across the room if it wouldn’t have shut up..)
The fireman did not look happy.
“You can spank me if you want,” I added. I’m kidding. I didn’t say that. But in my mind the words, “You can spank me with your hose if you want,” filtered through my brain. I mean, how inappropriate is that? His hose can be taken in so many different ways and I could have been slapped with a sexual harassment suit. (“I was just making sure this poor housewife wasn’t poisoned by carbon monoxide and she told me to spank her with my hose,” I could see the fireman tattle in a courtroom.)
“I’m sorry,” I said meekly.
“Next time, you call us, even if you do think it’s because of the power. It probably is because of the power but you need to be safe,” he lectured.
“Yes,” I said, nodding. I almost added “sir,” to the end.
Then there was another knock on my door. Two more attractive firemen stood there.
Good gracious, was it my birthday or what?
“We’ve come to help sweep your house,” one said. When he smiled I could see a row of sparkling white teeth. I named him Dan.
“Come in,” I said, opening the door.
They carried equipment and started going through the house. When they walked in the laundry room I remembered that I had UNDERWEAR in a basket in there. It was clean but still. I practically sat on top of the basket when they came in. I pretended it was a perfectly acceptable chair.
“Are we okay?” I wondered, because they had gotten silent as they stared at their machines.
It turns out we were.
Phew.
“You guys wouldn’t happen to know when the power will be back on, would you?” I asked before they left.
“I heard 1245,” the one named Charlie answered.
I checked my cell phone. “It’s already past one.”
He snored. “Typical Air Force.”
And then they left.
Typical Air Force indeed.
What I found amusing is throughout all of this, Tom kept sleeping. He works the night shift so he sleeps during the day. You would have thought that he would have heard the male voices but no. So this means I can have John Krasinski over and he wouldn’t even know. Sweet. (Kidding, Tom.)
When he finally did wake up, it was going on 4 and the power still wasn’t up.
“What’s happening?” he asked, blinking. He frowned at the blank TV.
“The power is out,” I explained.
He scratched the side of his head and spun around. “Why?”
“I decided to try out a life without electricity. Newsflash, it sucks,” I said sarcastically.
Tom doesn’t get sarcasm when he firsts wakes up so he was all, “I’m confused.”
He understood it all ten minutes later.
When he left for work a half hour later, the power was still out.
I couldn’t cook in the dark (YAY) so I took the kids to Olive Garden. It was my first time going to a restaurant without Tom. But guess what? My kids were fantastic. They sat and the only mishap was when Natalie dropped a delicious breadstick on the floor (“we must be kind to the breadsticks, Natalie, they’re like little sticks of Heaven..”)
When we got home, the power was still out.
I was seething.
And then, right when I was about to send a text to Amanda over how the Air Force could kiss my pale ass, the power came back on.
“Let there be LIGHT!” I shrieked and did a happy dance in my living room. “I had a fantastic daydream about all you lights...and you were there, and you....” I said, speaking to the sources of light in the living room.
“Mommy, why are you hugging the lamp?” Tommy asked.
Oh. I hadn’t realized that I was.
I just got carried away, I guess.
This just proves that I could never go without electricity.
Beautiful, beautiful electricity.
The Amish don’t know what they’re missing, really.
Phil Sees His Shadow and We Are Doomed For Six More Weeks of Winter
Did you know that the legend of Groundhog Day is based on an old Scottish couplet: "If Candlemas Day is bright and clear, there'll be two winters in the year." Well people in the United States and Canada take this couplet very serious. Every February 2nd, people gather at Gobbler's Knob, a wooded knoll just outside of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania to hear (and the key word there is "hear") Phil's prediction. The residents in and around Punxsutawney contend that the groundhog has never been wrong.So....with that said I must tell you that one of my favorite Bill Murray movies is called, "Ground Hog Day." It is about a news anchor covering the beloved celebration in Pennsylvania....who wakes up each morning to relive the day. What a nightmare that must be. It would be almost like having altzheimers. Yuck! Since today is really Ground Hog Day I thought I would tell you all I know about the event. The ceremony in Punxsutawney was held in secret until 1966, and only Phil's prediction was revealed to the public. Since then, Phil's fearless forecast has been a national media event. I could not wait to see what his prediction was this morning. I was almost late to work because of it.
Phil, the groundhog comes out of his electrically heated burrow, looks for his shadow and utters his prediction to a Groundhog Club representative in "groundhogese." The representative then translates the prediction for the general public. Come on people. Do you not have anything better to do on a cold February morning than this? Griefus! Anyways, if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, it means six more weeks of winter. If he does not see his shadow, it means spring is just around the corner. I know it is amazing...but about 90% of the time, Phil sees his shadow. Do the math people...the first day of spring is six weeks from today.
Did you know that Phil started making these predictions in 1887 and has become an American institution? You know people have some of the strangest customs and celebrations....don't you think? Can you help me find some other weird and unusual customs. If you find one drop me a line as a comment. I need a good laugh today....after all...we are in for a long, hard winter. Sigh! I don't know about you...but I am ready to trade my boots in for some flip flops.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Is It Sad?
1. Is it sad that my two year old knows how to walk in high heels better than me?
2. Is it sad that I’m a little embarrassed to buy stuff in Victoria’s Secret? I worry when I slide my sexy lingerie at the cashier to purchase that she’ll know that I’m buying it for when I have sex with my husband. But I can’t very well say, “It’s not for what you think. I wear this when I do dishes.” Then I worry that she’s thinking, “Poor lass. She seriously thinks she can pull this off with her chunky thighs.”
3. Is it sad that I can’t stop laughing whenever I try Yoga? I’ve attempted to take it seriously but I can’t. I always worry when I bend over that I’m going to fart. Or if I don’t fart then somebody else will and I’ll be the only one laughing about it because everyone else will be in some tranquil state that I can’t seem to master.
4. Is it sad that I’m so excited for when Lost comes back tomorrow? I love that show.
5. Is it sad that my daughter has more shoes than me?
6. Is it sad that I ate an entire package of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups? In my defense, it wasn’t all in one sitting.
7. Is it sad that I refuse to do the nasty with my husband after he’s just made a number two?
8. Is it sad that I cursed the state of Wyoming for doing this to my car? (It took off this rubber thing on the top. Not sure what the real term is, I don't speak car.) Well, technically it was their high winds but still. I was in the middle of screaming, “Stupid f-ing state!” when my neighbor walked outside. I apologized for the curse and he chuckled and went, “No problem. I’m not a fan of Wyoming either. One of my tools was blown away and I’m still pissed about it.”
2. Is it sad that I’m a little embarrassed to buy stuff in Victoria’s Secret? I worry when I slide my sexy lingerie at the cashier to purchase that she’ll know that I’m buying it for when I have sex with my husband. But I can’t very well say, “It’s not for what you think. I wear this when I do dishes.” Then I worry that she’s thinking, “Poor lass. She seriously thinks she can pull this off with her chunky thighs.”
3. Is it sad that I can’t stop laughing whenever I try Yoga? I’ve attempted to take it seriously but I can’t. I always worry when I bend over that I’m going to fart. Or if I don’t fart then somebody else will and I’ll be the only one laughing about it because everyone else will be in some tranquil state that I can’t seem to master.
4. Is it sad that I’m so excited for when Lost comes back tomorrow? I love that show.
5. Is it sad that my daughter has more shoes than me?
6. Is it sad that I ate an entire package of Reeses Peanut Butter Cups? In my defense, it wasn’t all in one sitting.
7. Is it sad that I refuse to do the nasty with my husband after he’s just made a number two?
8. Is it sad that I cursed the state of Wyoming for doing this to my car? (It took off this rubber thing on the top. Not sure what the real term is, I don't speak car.) Well, technically it was their high winds but still. I was in the middle of screaming, “Stupid f-ing state!” when my neighbor walked outside. I apologized for the curse and he chuckled and went, “No problem. I’m not a fan of Wyoming either. One of my tools was blown away and I’m still pissed about it.”
Music Monday and the Lost Children of the Alleghenies
I was watching a PBS special one night and it featured Allison Kraus. I love the sound of her voice and was fascinated by the song she was singing about two little boys called Jacob's Dream. After the show was over I went online to see about the lyrics of the song. It was definitely one that Still Magnolias would be perfect for. What I found in my search was that the song was actually a true story and a very sad one. It began on the morning of April 24, 1856, in a real place called Spruce Hollow. Samuel Cox went hunting and his small sons, Joseph, 5, and George, 6, decided to stay at home with their mom and play..when Cox returned to the little log cabin he had built he was empty-handed from his hunt. As they sat down for dinner, their dog, “Sport,” was barking and Mr. Cox immediately trudged out with his gun. Before Cox left he told his wife, “Sport” had a squirrel treed, and he would go get the squirrel for meat for his family. After hunting for about an hour and a half he returned by a route that was different route from the one he had taken when he left the cabin. "On entering the clearing where his cabin stood, he was met by his wife. Susannah Cox was crying hysterically because the two boys were missing. Susannah frantically told her husband how she had repeatedly called them and then searched the area. She was sure that something had happened to them. The woods in the area had many fast-flowing streams that two small boys could easily drown in.
Samuel Cox immediately began searching for his sons. Again and again he desperately called their names and listened intently after his echo for the small voices of the boys’. The only thing poor Mr. Cox heard was the birds high in the trees and the rustling of leaves by the wind through the forest. Finally, Samuel went to his neighbors who lived a farther up the valley to ask their aid in the search.
Within hours, over 150 people were searching the Blue Knob area for the young boys. They searched until nearly daybreak, rested briefly and renewed their search at the crack of dawn. Nearly ten days went by and almost 1,000 people were trudging through the woods in every direction to aid in the search for the boys. Some came from as far as 50 miles away. By now the entire area was completely involved with the thoughts of what extreme misfortune the Cox family was experiencing. Rumors flew wildly as neighbors told stories to one another. They had drowned…they were killed by a man-eating beast seen prowling the forest…the parents had murdered them. Several neighbors went as far as to tear up the floor of the Cox cabin to relieve those acquisitions. It was then, at the height of all the rumors, that a young farmer named, Jacob Dibert, had a terrible nightmare. In his nightmare, Mr. Dibert was part of the search parties looking for the Cox boys. He became separated from the other men. He could not recognize the part of the forest he was in, but he came to a fallen tree. Near the tree lay a dead deer. Stepping over the deer, Mr. Dibert followed a deer trail and soon found a small boy’s shoe just beyond where he found the shoe there was a beech tree lying across a stream. He went across the stream, up a steep ridge and into a ravine. There, by the roots of a large birch tree, were the missing boys, dead from exposure. Jacob told his wife about the dream, but they said nothing to anyone else. The next night he dreamed the same dream over again. So, they decided to tell Mrs. Dibert’s brother, Harrison Whysong, who lived in Pavia and was well acquainted with the area in which the boys had disappeared. At first Whysong was skeptical of the dream, but he said nothing. He knew where there was just such a ridge, brook; but he regarded it as a wild goose chase unfortunately. To ease his sister’s mind he took Jacob to the edge of the forest, and they began their search on May 8, 1856." The boys had now been missing for two week. "Five minutes later as Dibert traced his steps in his dream they stepped upon a fallen tree and there laid a dead deer. Beyond the deer, some eight yards away, a child’s shoe was laying upon a mound of earth. Both men began to run. They crossed a brook on a fallen Beech tree just like the one in Dibert’s dream. As they crossed the brook the scrambled up the steep ridge. Dibert spotted a giant Beech tree with a shattered top, too astounded to speak, he could only point. Just like in his dreams, at the roots of the Beech tree they found the bodies of George and Joseph Cox, dead from exposure just like in the dream. The bodies of the boys were returned to the Cox home, and the church and school bells tolled- farther and farther from Pavia, to Bedford, to Altoona- telling that the boys were found. Questions were raised throughout the counties as to where, how, and by whom were the boys found. Some said Whysong, others said Dibert, and some said they both were heroic. In 1906, the people of Pavia contributed funds to erect a public monument at the spot where they brothers were found. The monument is still there today- standing as a memorial to the nightmare of the young farmer, Jacob Dibert." Nearly a hundred years later, "early in July of 2002, the Cox monument was vandalized. The monument was overturned and the fence surrounding the monument had been pushed in. Workers from Culp Monumental Works of Schellsburg moved the Lost Children of the Alleghenies monument back into place. The workers included C. Robert Daugherty, Richard Sparks, Philip Fletcher, and Jim Miller. C.B. Culp, founder of the family company in 1899, made the original chiseled marble stone in 1906." Life was hard in the early twentieth century and death was common, especially among the young. How sad for young mother, Susannah Cox and her husband Samuel. What an awesome story. The greatest thing about stories is that they are everywhere....what story is there from your town or state that stands out like this one. Was there a song about it? That is why today...I am making this a music Monday. Oral tradition at its finest! Enjoy the song. Happy Monday to Everyone!
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