"Hey Mom, you know how pirates kill tigers so they can use their skins?"
"No, I didn't. How is that."
"Well, *chuckles awkwardly at having to explain it* they want to use their skins and wear them to blend in to everything that's orange." *makes hand gestures around the room, as if to suggest the presence of orange things around.*
Of course! Orange camo. For a pirate.
Orange and black, bold-striped camo.
I can see where that would be useful.
-------------
We started a new thing this last week which is my new favourite thing. Every night at our bedtime prayers, I ask Anna to select a place at random, be it a country, city, whatever she thinks of, and we pray for them. We have prayed for California, Egypt, Mexico, Texas, China etc.
It has become the highlight of my day.
One night the conversation went this way.
"Ok! Who are we praying for tonight? Pick a country."
"hmmmm... *thinks for a while, being sure to make the right choice* Ham."
"Ham?" I ask, not sure what she is getting at.
"*furrowed brow, confused look, trying to figure out what was not right about 'ham' that made me inquire*
~more time passes while she thinks~
"TURKEY! Turkey. Let's pray for Turkey! Let's pray for the poor Turkey people." *
There! Now you've got it! She knew it was some kind of meat. Just remembering which one was the stumbling block.
*by "poor Turkey people" she meant the people in Turkey who may live in poverty, not that Turkish people should be pitied, merely because they are Turkish. Just for the sake of clarification.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Bowomanews
These are my girls lately. In case you haven't already pillaged my facebook albums.
Anna is not actually getting into fiddle playing, she just grabbed it for fun one day, and it looked like a photo-op to me.
So gorgeous. So fun. So sweet. I love them to iddy bitty pieces.
I danced with more vigor last week than I have in years. And didn't pay for it later. Awesome.
My dad will be here in a couple hours. His last visit was in 2007. Gonna be so good to see someone from my family. I miss them.
How do you refer to the family you grew up with vs. the family you may currently have, as in spouse/children? I often run into this semantic dilemma.
I have so much I could be saying, but I am enjoying and cultivating an offline life these days. It is way more productive folks, I have to say! I went through most of February and March without reading a single blog and only replying to maybe a half dozen emails. Oh well! Our closets are getting organized! I may or may not come back.
... only the shadow knows...
Anna is not actually getting into fiddle playing, she just grabbed it for fun one day, and it looked like a photo-op to me.
So gorgeous. So fun. So sweet. I love them to iddy bitty pieces.
I danced with more vigor last week than I have in years. And didn't pay for it later. Awesome.
My dad will be here in a couple hours. His last visit was in 2007. Gonna be so good to see someone from my family. I miss them.
How do you refer to the family you grew up with vs. the family you may currently have, as in spouse/children? I often run into this semantic dilemma.
I have so much I could be saying, but I am enjoying and cultivating an offline life these days. It is way more productive folks, I have to say! I went through most of February and March without reading a single blog and only replying to maybe a half dozen emails. Oh well! Our closets are getting organized! I may or may not come back.
... only the shadow knows...
Friday, March 13, 2009
Jazz Piano
I love it.
I can't do it. But these guys can.
www.myspace.com/haroldoneal
Harold O'Neal attended my high school. I will never forget the first time I saw Harold playing. It was after school, most everyone was gone, the halls were quiet, except for this music... this enrapturing music... where was it coming from? I followed it around curiously, until I finally sourced it, and cautiously opened the door, to sneak a peak at its maker.
I expected to see a visiting clinician, but instead was surprised to see as scrawny little kid on the bench, cranking it out. I'm sure he was bigger than this at the time, but my impression was, how does he even reach the pedals? But he's creating stuff that is totally over my head!
This guy was destined for much much more than this room or these halls knew.
Well, he does not disappoint. He has only gone on to become more amazing. I am so proud of all he is doing, I wanted to take the opportunity to give him some recognition. Even though I doubt he remembers me. That's ok. :) I will remember that little kid at the piano, with Mozartian genius, and an effusive stream of creativity out of those nimble hands to match.
www.myspace.com/mosheweidenfeld
Last year at one of my ceilidhs, a tall fellow came up and offered to play a set for us (we ask for volunteers from the audience) and I don't think I'd ever been so floored at the surprise that awaited me as when Moshe took the keys. Do I have to follow this guy? Oh dear. It was a show stopper, and I got his cd, and I recommend it! He is a great player from New York, and I even got to use a couple of my Hebrew words on him, just for the fun of a little confusion. We had a great chat he and his wife were totally charming and sweet people.
I secretly curse my whiteness for disabling me from grocking jazz. I love it, but can't do it. I'm too white. I've always been the one on the sidelines gazing mistily at the jazz players, wishing to be among them. Ah well. I'll stick with the jigs and reels, and let these guys rock it with the funkitated rhythms, syncopations, stack-a-mess chords, enigmatic flight of melodies, and of course,
the smoooothe grooooves...
I can't do it. But these guys can.
www.myspace.com/haroldoneal
Harold O'Neal attended my high school. I will never forget the first time I saw Harold playing. It was after school, most everyone was gone, the halls were quiet, except for this music... this enrapturing music... where was it coming from? I followed it around curiously, until I finally sourced it, and cautiously opened the door, to sneak a peak at its maker.
I expected to see a visiting clinician, but instead was surprised to see as scrawny little kid on the bench, cranking it out. I'm sure he was bigger than this at the time, but my impression was, how does he even reach the pedals? But he's creating stuff that is totally over my head!
This guy was destined for much much more than this room or these halls knew.
Well, he does not disappoint. He has only gone on to become more amazing. I am so proud of all he is doing, I wanted to take the opportunity to give him some recognition. Even though I doubt he remembers me. That's ok. :) I will remember that little kid at the piano, with Mozartian genius, and an effusive stream of creativity out of those nimble hands to match.
www.myspace.com/mosheweidenfeld
Last year at one of my ceilidhs, a tall fellow came up and offered to play a set for us (we ask for volunteers from the audience) and I don't think I'd ever been so floored at the surprise that awaited me as when Moshe took the keys. Do I have to follow this guy? Oh dear. It was a show stopper, and I got his cd, and I recommend it! He is a great player from New York, and I even got to use a couple of my Hebrew words on him, just for the fun of a little confusion. We had a great chat he and his wife were totally charming and sweet people.
I secretly curse my whiteness for disabling me from grocking jazz. I love it, but can't do it. I'm too white. I've always been the one on the sidelines gazing mistily at the jazz players, wishing to be among them. Ah well. I'll stick with the jigs and reels, and let these guys rock it with the funkitated rhythms, syncopations, stack-a-mess chords, enigmatic flight of melodies, and of course,
the smoooothe grooooves...
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