Category: Random

One of my absolute favorite things in the whole world is going to the Lyric Opera House a few weeks before Christmas and singing Handel’s Messiah with 3,000 other people.  There’s an orchestra, a conductor, and four soloists on stage, and the auditorium is the choir.  We sit according to parts-we sopranos are all on stage right.

The first time I sang a Do It Yourself Messiah was when I was at the U of I.  I went with a tenor and a bass, but we split up when we got there.  I was so grateful for the woman with the great voice sitting behind me that I could follow. 

Then I got to sing with the Southwestern Seminary Chorus in Fort Worth, and we did the Messiah every year.  But, I always wanted to have the experience of singing together with an auditorium full of people again.  I can’t explain it, but it’s just magic.  Every year my mother would send in for free tickets to the Chicago Messiah for me.  Mom would watch the newspaper to see what the earliest date was that requests could be postmarked, and she always got the request in that morning, but she could never get me a ticket.

My last year in the States, I was determined to go.  I worked up a little speech to use on the ushers:  "I’m moving to Africa in a few months, and I’m never ever going to be able to sing Messiah again, and it would mean so much if you would just let me in, and see, I have my own score and it’s even marked where my choir director made comments…".  So, off I went to downtown Chicago, armed with a map (this was before Mapquest).  Of course I got lost, stuck driving around Lower Wacker Drive, and didn’t get there as early as I wanted to.  The lobby was already empty once I finally parked and hustled in, all ready to give my speech, beg, grovel, whatever it took.  I went up to an usher, and I’m telling you, it was just like the story of the  prodigal son!  The usher asked me if I needed a ticket before I even started my speech.  She said that there were extra tickets every year.  Oh, the missed opportunities to miss a lot of notes!

Well, I can’t sing with everyone in Chicago this year, but yesterday I sang through the whole Messiah along with my CDs while I drove back to the village.  I even got to sing with all the soloists.  Don’t you love singing in a closed car in the middle of the country where no one can see or hear you?

A friend told me that asking for stuff on a blog is called blegging.  Great word.  It got me some wire nuts!!  If you feel like it, you can click on the link to the right that says "care package."  A friend is coming to visit.  She will not, however, be allowed in my house OR my wonder truck if she doesn’t use every ounce of her luggage allowance.  So, if you’d like to help Cynthia pack, click away, and amazon will send goodies to Cynthia to carry to me.

Thus ends this session of blegging. 

I confess, it has been a year since my last back up.

Yes, it’s true.  But, I have a good excuse!  See, I got this external hard drive for backups while I was home.  But, it has to plug into electricity to work.  (Note to self, next time get one that’s USB powered.)  So, I get it out to my house here, plug it in, and happen to touch it.  I’m barefoot, as always, on my concrete floor.  So, I touch the hard drive, and it tingles.  Using my great technical knowledge and discernment, I immediately unpluged it and put it in a cabinet.

Techie friends here tell me that I just need a grounded outlet, but even if I don’t have one, I won’t fry my computer.  I’m sure they’re right.  Except that USB cables have electricity going through them sometimes.  And one goes from my tingly hard drive to my computer.  I’m sure they’re right, but I don’t want to risk it.  It’s a little tricky to replace a computer from here.

But, I am turning over a new leaf.  Last week I learned that there is such a thing as rewriteable DVDs, available for purchase even here, so I can back up every day to a separate DVD.  And, the week before last, I finally had a ground wire installed at my house.  This was a long ordeal involving copper wire, a copper pipe, a drill bit long enough to drill through my house (!!!), and a closer look at the inside of my septic tank than I cared to take.  Well, I live in a hot dry place, with rocky, sandy soil, and to have a ground you’ve got to have moisture.  I’m just sorry I couldn’t involve my machete somehow in the installation.  Or, on second thought, maybe I’m not…

It seems like every few months lately I’ve been having a week where I say to myself "I’ve never worked this hard ever before."  If it keeps going this way, I might explode.

But, along the way there are some good laughs.  I’m in a big city, helping with a course.  Besides teaching, prepping, and trying to get some sleep at night, most of my free time has been spent having adventures with my roommates. 

After the day where we were ticked and the great battle of the cockroach, we were pretty tired.  Holly was taking her siesta while Shirley and I worked in the other room.  All of a sudden we hear a crash from the bedroom.  Rushing to Holly’s aid, we see that the face of the a/c unit is dangling by a screw.  The story might not be that funny, but the picture of how Holly’s fiance fixed it with duct tape is pretty good, I think.

Now my roomates are gone, their part of the course is done.  I’m hoping to be able to get some sleep, keep teaching well, and maybe, just maybe have time to blog.  I’m already missing the laughs, though.

I love garage sales.  Who can resist stopping when there are treasures piled on tables just begging to be bought for pennies?

There aren’t usually garage sales here, with one exception-when an expat goes back to the States and sells all their stuff.  Treasures, I tell you!

I happened to be there when one family’s boxes were first opened.  Judy had dibs, she’s the business manager, and then it was my turn.  I scored lots of Tupperware, a bread maker, and a Crock Pot.  But not just any old Crock Pot-this one was 220 volt!  Perfect to use here! 

On top of that, any kind of meat is usually pretty tough here.  What’s better for tough meat than several hours in a Crock Pot?  Ok, I could use my pressure cooker, but I’m always kind of afraid it’s going to explode, so I don’t like to use it that much.  And it heats up my kitchen.

But a Crock Pot…just throw ingredients in, turn on, and hours later-delicious!  That’s my kind of cooking.  A Swedish friend was with me when I scored the Crock Pot, and she didn’t know what it was.  As I was explaining how it worked to her, it began to look a little less than perfect for where I live.

See, we have electricity from 6 pm to 1 am.  Um, that has me getting up in the middle of the night to get the food out of the Crock Pot and deal with it.  In the dark.  Hmmmm.

Well, they say we’re going to increase to twelve hours of electricity someday soon, that might make the thing more convenient.  For now, it’s in the armoire in the guest room…

Facilitating small groups of people working on stories in mmm-BELLY-may is becoming a larger and larger part of my work.  There’s a building that I can use for this kind of thing, but it’s just one room.  When I have three groups recording three stories at the same time, being in the same room doesn’t work.  And, there’s only one tree outside to sit under.  We can’t sit in the sun, way too hot for that.

So, I thought, I’ll build some little straw shelters.  They’re cute, breezy, and practical.  The problem is, there are at least 4 different places that I’d want to build these little deals.  That gets a bit pricey.  And, these structures are far from permanent-termites and storms mean that they’d only last 3 years at the most.  What to do?  Build expensive ones everywhere with cement poles and metal roofing?  Yeah, I’ll do that after I go and pick all the leaves off the money tree.

But, I’ve been in the city, where there is a veritable shopping mall at every red light.  This week they’re selling huge beach umbrellas.  I looked at them every time I was at the intersection, but hesitated.  I started noticing them being used all over the place, planted in old tire rims, pots with sand.  But no, my last day in the city came and went without me buying one. 

While I was packing my truck, two guys walked past on their way home.  Did Madame want to buy an umbrella?  I took that as an indication that the umbrella was a good idea, checked to see if they fit in my truck, and bought two. 

Anybody for the beach?