Panera Bread

Christmas morning came early for me today cause I discovered that Panera Bread has finally come to Canada . . . . Aaaaaaaaaaah!! I could hear the angels singing. I was seriously so excited!! I didn't stop today because of the snow, but you can bet that I'll be having lunch at Panera over the holidays. It was my favourite restaurant while living in IN. Once a month I'd head to Fort Wayne or South Bend and treat myself to a yummy lunch at Panera. I always wondered why it hadn't come to Canada yet. . . but it's here!!!! I feel like I just unwrapped the bestest Christmas gift!!

BYOB

So I told Julia that we will be having a sleep over on Christmas. I told her that it'll be soo much fun cause Auntie will be sharing her bed. She looked at me with a worried look on her face and said, "Oh . . . Ok . . . I'll sleep here and you'll sleep there . . ." She then looked at me very sternly and said "but Auntie you have to bring your own bear!" :)

Tired of Me

Sometimes when I'm teaching I think to myself:
'I'm so tired of me - la la la - blah blah blah - jump, run, dance - twirl, swing, clap - shake, tap, snap- etc, etc, etc. I wonder if the adults watching me feel the same.'
I can tell that the kiddies are having fun, but gosh there's only so much toddler entertainment that a grown adult can take.
Then again I do give 12 performances a week - most of the adults only catch me once a week.
I think I have good reason to be tired of me.

Diva Battle

This Sunday I'm going to see Kathleen Battle. This will be the second time I've seen her in concert. 11 yrs ago my parents bought me a $125 ticket to see my favourite diva as a gift to celebrate my high school graduation. It was so exciting!!! I dressed up in my prom dress and headed to the gala opening of the Mississauga Living arts centre all by myself. I sat in the 3rd row from the stage and was mesmerized by the diva as soon as she opened her mouth. I always really liked her voice and she was just so wonderful to see and hear in person. She lived up to everything I had imagined her to be. She was such a story teller and just so beautiful.

What I secretly have always loved about Kathleen is that she has gained the reputation of a "Diva". She certainly hasn't earned that title as one of respect either. She has the reputation of being a stereotypical ego driven opera diva. The met fired her in 1994 because of her diva attitude. And there are several stories about her performances in Toronto. Including one where she threw her accompanist off the stage and sat and accompanied herself for the remainder of the concert. . . . .

I really think that's her game though . . . she now has to live up to that reputation . . . so something divaesque has to happen at every concert. . . it's like everyone in the audience is waiting for her diva moment.

Back in 1997 her diva moment came apres intermission. She came out on the stage traipsing across in a slow dramatic way, then suddenly stopped when she noticed a music stand sitting on the stage that was not supposed to be there. She paused, turned her head, and glared at the stand for what felt like hours, she then swiftly turned around and knocked on the stage wing that had just been closed. The poor stage hand came out and Kathleen dramatically gestured with one arm to the lone music stand and said in a crisp projected voice "I'd like that music stand removed from the stage." . . . . if it were a soap opera I'm sure that dramatic "dun dun dun" music would have rang out in the background at that very moment. The poor stage hand apologized, scurried quickly onto the stage and removed the stand. Must have been incredibly humiliating for him. But it was what we were all waiting for. To me it just seemed a part of the act. I actually found it quite amusing. . . . . and I still find it amusing to this day.

As I've grown as a singer over the past 11 years, I've come to realize that Kathleen is not at all the greatest singer around. . . her diction is actually pretty atrocious, and she has a few bad vocal habits that singers should not imitate. I still do enjoy her voice though and there has certainly never been any doubt in my mind that it's her charisma that makes her.

My taste has matured since 1997 as I have come to admire other singers for their technical abilities and dramatic abilities. Nonetheless, Ms. Battle continues to be a great inspiration for me; afterall, the tales of her "lovely" Diva displays and the opportunity to actually witness one in person prompted the creation of my alter ego, "Diva" 11 years ago:) I really do need some new material . . . I can't wait to see what she pulls out of her extra long flowing diva train this time around . . . . if she doesn't please me I'll be super disappointed. I may just have to start a diva cat fight in the middle of her recital!! Now that'll be a Battle worth fighting - just for the sheer entertainment of it all:)

Me on TV

So, last night the Mom's were talking and decided that I should seriously consider doing what I do on Television . A compliment? Yes . . . I think it means that I'm doing a good job at entertaining their 2 yr olds.
Since the Polka Dot Door is no longer around, perhaps I should consider applying to be one of those hosts on Sesame Street. I always liked Bob. . . he sang nice songs, spoke sign language and always helped Telly with his anxiety. He's still on the show after all these years too. Could be a promising career move, I could be the washed up opera diva who moves into the cardboard box next to Oscar's can, with several of her neurotic cats (muppet cats of course) and spends her day singing songs to all her muppet friends . . . . I wonder how I'd go about pitching that one to the Children's Television Workshop.

Shattered

I hate those times when my misperceptions are contradicted by the misperceptions of others causing all of the illusions that I've built up in my mind to Shatter, hard and fast.

Addictions

Well, since this is a place where I am generally open and honest I figured it was about time to fess up to my latest secret addictions (I guess they're not really secret any more though . . huh?)
#1 - Anyone who has had a conversation with me in the past few months will know already that, I just can't get enough of Dunder Mifflin. This past weekend while I was sick in bed my addiction became very apparent. I watched 21 episodes of the office from seasons 2 and 3- that's over 10 hrs. Excessive!! I have to say though, lately I feel like my day isn't complete unless I get my fix of Michael, Dwight, Jim, Pam and the rest of the Dunder Mifflin gang. It just makes me genuinely laugh out loud, it's just good television. But I do talk about the show to people who don't watch it way too much as though I can convert them to watching . . . . . too bad people it's just too funny not to talk about.

#2 - Bubblicious - It's really a sad sad sad addiction. I can seriously go through a pack of bubblicious gum in a half hour, because as soon as the gum loses the flavour I spit it out and chew on a new chunk. Gosh I remember as a kid cherishing my gum, chewing it till it would lose its elasticity. Now it's only about the flavour for me. I like all the flavours but the sour cherry burst is my favourite. . . 2 for $1 at the dollar store. I do sound a little "cow chewing his cud" like though, which is rather "undiva". . . meh I usually do it alone. . . well . . . Michael and Dwight might hear it, but they're usually too busy stuck in their own shenanigans to stop and listen to the sound of diva chewing :)

Confessions of a Diva

No matter how hard I try to keep things neat and in order it just never seems to stay that way. I'm a messy girl. But I can say it is an organized mess cause I know where everything is. And hey I've heard that neat people have messy minds. . . so at least my mind is organized and clean. :)

Busyness

I've been so busy lately. I think I tend to fill up my life with busyness so that I have an excuse to ignore the things about my life that bug me. Those things still bug me, I just don't have time to think about them often enough to deal with them. I'm not sure that this is a healthy approach to life. Ignoring important personal issues has come to bite me in the behind in recent days. . . you'd think I would have learned my lesson by now. . .

Hallow

I thought that hallowing myself out would leave room for One loud voice to resonate, but it's looking like absolutely everything is echoing off my hallow insides, things that I couldn't hear before are at the forefront now, and I really really wish that they'd go back to being dampened by all the stuff that I hallowed out.

Believing the words I sing

Ever find yourself singing words to a song that you don't believe but so desperately want to? Ever find yourself singing those words louder and louder hoping that your heart will hear them and believe them? I have.

ENOUGH

- Chris Tomlin

All of You is more than enough for all of me

For every thirst and every need

You satisfy me with Your love

And all I have in You is more than enough

You are my supply My breath of life

And still more awesome than I know

You are my rewardworth living for

And still more awesome than I know

All of You is more than enough for all of me

For every thirst and every need

You satisfy me with Your love

And all I have in You is more than enough

You're my sacrifice Of greatest price

And still more awesome than I know

You're the coming KingYou are everything

And still more awesome than I know

More than all I want, More than all I need

You are more than enough for me.

More than all I know, More than all I can say

You are more than enough for me

My Nephew Lucas

The Little Diva is a Big Sister.

Auntie Diva is in love again.

08/08/08

So this was the fortune in my fortune cookie today. When I first looked at it, I had to laugh because that's exactly the philosophy I've been trying to instill in myself this past year. . . But when I actually saw it printed in black and white on that little white piece of paper from the far East Fortune Cookie Co. it just made me so sad. I really can't imagine having no expectations whatsoever. I guess I equate expecting with hoping and I just can't imagine my life without hope. I think if I wrote the fortune I'd write this:

Expect nothing from noone but God

and never be disappointed.

Vulnerability

Making oneself vulnerable takes not only a lot of energy, but also a lot of trust. Whenever I make myself vulnerable it feels as though I've deliberately set off enormous sticks of dynamite blowing up my security walls into a million teeny tiny pieces; The security walls that I tend to build up around myself to protect me from pain and judgement.

Vulnerability requires a swift KA-BOOM!!! A willingness to suddenly stand with no walls to hide behind. Just me, with all my walls crumbled to the ground around me, With nothing to protect me from the shots that may come my way. The explosion leaves me standing there long enough for the rest of the world to peek out from behind their own walls to see me.

As an artist I suppose I see it as part of my job description to explode my own walls. In my opinion the most powerful art comes out of vulnerability. Really though I know it's not just my job to be vulnerable because I'm an artist, but more so because I'm a human being.

I wonder what the world would be like it we all regularly blew up those walls with dynamite or dared to NOT even build them in the first place. I don't put a lot of hope in that though, because apparently dynamite is not easy to come by. And bricks are produced in surplus. For some reason though God tends to hand me the dynamite quite a bit. Not only does He hand it to me, but He asks me to light it and watch the walls that I've worked so hard to build crumble.

More Running Reflections

> One of my friends who gave birth last week was trying to describe the labour process to me. She compared it to Running. Same exertion, only during labour there's no indication of where the finish line is. She said, "I knew what my finish line was, seeing my baby, but I didn't have a clue when it would happen." When I'm out on a run I have the advantage of knowing where the finish line is, which for me is home. I also use my stop watch to tell me how much time I have left. I suppose the analogy of running without knowing where the finish line is, is a great example of life. Isn't that what I'm doing in this life? Running a race knowing what the finish line will be, eternal worship of God -but not knowing when it will happen.

> I'm finding there to be a nice little camaraderie among runners, well runners on my regular running path anyway. Most of the time when I pass another runner heading in the opposite direction there's a lovely little wave exchanged. I like those little waves. It's like we're saying to each other "You can do it!! I know what you're going through." I find it encouraging.

It's nice in life when someone who is enduring the same race gives a little wave. Although I've learned the hard way that sometimes those little waves really mean nothing. It's those who have stopped heading in their own direction and have turned around to run beside me for a bit who have really encouraged me to persevere.

Pretenses

Sometimes slapping a bandaid over a wound can give the impression that we are healed. Yet when the bandaid is ripped off we realize that by covering the wound up it has only gotten worse.

I've been slapping bandaids all over my wounds for a long time now.

Reminiscing

The other day Jen, Achilles and I were reminiscing about the children's television shows that we grew up on. Achilles downloaded the theme songs to all of them and we listened. Oh the memories that came back is we listened to The Polka Dot Door, Today's Special and of course Mr. Dress-up. Wow children's Television has changed drastically since then.

As we were singing along, Achilles joked about how I sound like the polka dot door lady. And you know what I realized? I am the polka dot door lady!!! My kindermusik classes are just like episodes of the polkadot door - EXCEPT - I don't put my ear up to my "stuffed animal" friends and ask "what's that you say Marigold(or bear or dumpty or humpty)" AND my man co-host doesn't "leave" just before the polkaroo comes to vist. And then conveniently return as himself only to have "missed him (the polkaroo) again". . . . um, Denis we always knew it was you in the polkaroo costume!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pexVTVMkt8c&feature=related

A fact about me

I take everything way too personally.

Only for People with English Accents

I find myself listening to classical music radio stations more and more these days, and I have to say that many of the commercials I hear drive me crazy. I find it interesting that the ads for Opera companies, symphonies and even some superior automobiles all have announcers with English accents. It's hard to brush off the "elitist" stereotype that classical music has attained when opera companies, symphonies etc. give the blunt impression that classical music can only be enjoyed by stuffy snobs. Not that I think that the English are snobs, but the Canadian classical music industry is obviously using that stereotype to promote the elite snobbery associated with classical music. It bugs me.

Falling into Distance

I feel far away.
The distance is long.
The distance is empty.
I've unknowingly created the distance
one millimetre at a time.
And now the harder I try to run towards You
the further away I feel.
The millimetres have grown into Kilometres.
I try to take one step forward
yet I find myself leaping 5 giant steps back.
My perception is skewed.
How is it that You are standing
in front of me,
behind me,
beside me,
around me,
yet all I see and feel is that long, empty distance
between us?

shimmy shake

If that farmer man in his white pick up truck understood that my life is a musical, he'd know why I was shimmying and seat salsa dancing like a mad woman to my Pink Martini CD in the car today. If he knew that my day is measured from one song to the next he wouldn't have stared at me and then put his index finger to his temple rotating it ever so slightly indicating that I'm loco!!!
If I didn't secretly enjoy making that man uncomfortable I wouldn't have tossed a coy little wave and then a big grin, as I drove off shimmy shaking away :)

My Life - The Musical - The Steamrolling Song

Today I drove past a steamroller on my way to work. I was so excited about the steamroller!!! I don't recall ever being that excited about construction machinery in my life!!! I automatically burst out into the steamroller song that I've been teaching in some of my kindermusik classes over the past couple of weeks:
I am a steamroller rolling along,
rolling and singing a steamrolling song
I am a steamroller rolling along.
Rolling and rolling and rolling along.
I love that I can now break out into appropriate songs about things that I ordinarily wouldn't sing about. It makes me smile. Had I not been driving my car I imagine that I would have done the steamroller dance too, which pretty much involves lying flat on the ground rolling around ever so steamroller like.

Running Reflections

I've been thinking a lot lately about the great "race" that I have qualified to run. The race that Paul refers to so often in the New Testament. I've been feeling so deflated lately. Just so un-energized. For months now I've honestly been teetering on just giving up on everything "race" related. I'm slowly realizing why, as I begin to examine the vitals that will help me to persevere in the race.

The other day as I was out for my daily run, I was just struggling to get through. This was the week I had to double my running time from the week before. Day one was hard. I was into my last 4 minutes and my knees were aching, my calves were weakening and I was slowing way down and ready to just give up. I then felt the wind on my back and was suddenly reminded of this scene from the movie Facing the Giants. Now, I'm not one to even watch football movies, let alone remember anything from them. And I'd almost forgotten about this scene until it randomly came to mind while I was running. Thinking about it got me through my final 3 minutes.

What a beautiful picture of the Coach who stands beside us cheering us on to persevere as we head towards the finish line.

Turtle X-ing

Today I ran over a turtle on my way to work . . . . I couldn't swerve fast enough to miss him because I wasn't expecting a turtle to be out in the middle of the road, so I ended up nicking him with my tire. I heard a big 'thunk kutunk' under my car and then as I watched out my rear view mirror I saw the turtle traumatically bouncing off the road with his little tail or head peering out. . . or maybe those were his guts. I hope I didn't kill the poor guy. What the heck was a turtle doing all tucked into his shell in the middle of the highway??? Then again it was Milton. Being accustomed to city living, sometimes I forget that the turtles are still free to roam in the middle of the street in growing places like Milton. Perhaps a turtle X-ing sign should be put up.

Untactful Beef

My beef today goes beyond beef. Some people seriously have no tact. Today our family received photos in the mail. Photos from almost a year ago of our family standing by my grandmother's grave the day we buried her. First off, WHO takes pictures at a funeral???? Especially without the family's permission!!! It's not like everyone wants a photo of that moment so that they can look back and remember the pain, and sorrow. Who thinks that taking pictures of a family's private moment of grief is acceptable? Clearly there are people who do!!!! I don't know if the people who took the photos thought that we would appreciate them or what, but I seriously didn't need to see them. . . the details of that day are etched in my mind as it is thank you very much!! It's hard to know how to reply to such an untactful gesture.

Fajitas!!!

Yesterday morning, Achilles and Jen found out the sex of the baby they are expecting in August. So my sister puts Julia on the speaker phone to share the news with Me, Grandma and Bapa. Jen says, "Julia, tell Grandma, Bapa and Auntie what we're having!!" and Julia yells excitedly "Fajitas!!!" It took a few more minutes of careful prompting to get the real news out of Julia, but she finally shared. Looks like in August I'm going to be the proud Auntie of . . . Fajitas!! Yaaaay Fajitas!!

My Burd-day

My 30th Birthday was wonderful. I have to say that this phone msg left by my 2 year old niece was probably the bestest birthday greeting of the day hands down . . . ahhh have I ever mentioned how much I love being "Auntie"?? (The video isn't really exciting to watch, but the audio is definitely worth listening to:)

Mallards

5 years ago today a beautiful mallard duck crossed my path. It was a bright sunny March day, much like today. There was still a little bit of snow on the ground, and if you listened closely the birds were chirping sweet little spring melodies. It was a lovely tranquil morning. Inside I felt far from tranquil. In my heart there was a tremendous weight, the heavy weight that only grief can bring. I didn't know how I was going to get through the day and I just kept praying that somehow God would get me through because I knew that my own strength wasn't enough.

The night before our family sat around the dinner table as my grandmother shared what exactly she had put in my grandfather's casket. She mentioned that she had put in a stuffed animal duck. My sister was baffled. And kept saying "a duck? you put a duck in the casket? why? I don't get it." My grandmother's reasoning made sense to me because I was the one who had given Tutty that duck. It was a stuffed mallard, and I brought it home one day when he was sick, because I knew how much he missed watching his ducks at the cottage. He kept that duck by his bed until he died. The duck represented Tutty's love for nature. My sister felt it an inappropriate gesture nonetheless and ranted about the "duck" for the rest of the evening.

The next morning as my sister and I were walking to the limousine that would take us to the funeral home where my grandfather's casket was waiting for his funeral procession, a beautiful mallard with a glistening emerald head waddled across the snowy path in front of us and then spread his wings and flew into the sky. I was just so amazed that an actual duck would appear out of nowhere. Neither of us acknowledged the duck at that moment because we were trying to be silent, but for me that duck was God's way of saying, "It will all be okay, I'm carrying you." In that moment that duck was a symbol of God's love for me. It gave me hope that I could get through that day. After the day was over my sister asked me if I had seen the duck. She said that she felt as though that duck was a sign from God and that she now didn't find the stuffed duck so odd anymore.

I have to admit, I just can't look at mallards as just ordinary ducks anymore. Anytime I see one, I stop not only to remember my grandfather, but more so to give thanks for the love and faithfulness of my loving Father. The Father who always provides us with exactly what we need in order to give us the hope and the strength that carry us through this life.

Opera

Have I mentioned how much I love opera? Of course it's assumed since I've spent more than half my life training to sing it, but seriously there is just something about it. . . . I've been spending a lot of time lately just listening to as many recordings as I possibly can of amazing singers, mainly because I'm trying to pick a ton of new rep to work on and eventually build into my ongoing list. I do this about once a year and it's at this time when I just listen -when I Listen without analysis, when I listen as an audience member rather than an aspiring opera singer - that I really remember what it was that drew me to the art form in the first place. . . there's just something so beautifully human about it. . . the stories that are told, the emotions that it evokes. . . .
Sometimes as I work at it myself, I lose perspective of what an extremly powerful art form opera can be.

Measuring Up

Knowing that I will never ever measure up is something that I will always have to face. Understanding this ultimate truth is the challenge of life. Understanding that no matter how hard I try I will never ever meet any of the real standards that I so desire to meet. Understanding that it is the desire to measure up that so often causes me to fail. Understanding that disregarding this fact will be the cause of my downfall. Understanding that the temptation to ignore this knowledge is the strongest weapon that can be used against me. Understanding that it is only through my understanding of never being able to measure up that I can comprehend the true meaning of grace, mercy, and love.

Comprehending and being able to acknowledge that I will never measure up is the single greatest gift I've ever received.

Ok Diva, time to spill the beef !

People who make assumptions about other people, eventhough they've never even taken the time to carry on a real conversation with the other person. We all do it, but yup that's definitely my beef today.

little white confessions

> I watch all of those cheesy Disney teeny bopper shows on Saturday mornings (Hannah Montana, The Suite Life of Zack and Cody, Corey in the House, That’s so Raven etc.) And I kind of enjoy them.

> I'm an introvert who poses as an extravert.

> Sometimes when I have a long break between my classes I take a nap on the floor in the Kindermusik studio on the kiddie cushions - feels like kindergarten nap time.


> I’m dreading turning
30




> I’m the queen of the organized mess.

> I kind of like the smell of skunk.



> Everything I learned about acting I learned from regularly watching Victor Newman.





> I think that the best place to practice singing is in the car. . . . and sometimes when drivers are really annoyed by the traffic I provoke them by acting out my arias – hand gestures and all.

> I buy more Tim Hortons Coffee when it's roll up the rim season.

> whenever my niece asks me to play with her, I try to talk her into playing doll house, even though I know she doesn’t like it, because when I was a little girl I never had a cool doll house but always wanted one.

> I’m a total romantic who completely believes in old fashioned courtship – (pretty much explains why I’m still single.)

>I think that ice cream tastes better when secretly eaten out of the container . . . I sometimes eat my Mom’s ice cream out of the container and don’t tell her.

Blech!!

This singing thing has so many ups and downs. What drives me crazy is that one minute you're up and the next minute you're on a fast and steep slope downward. It kind of makes me want to hurl. . . . I've never really enjoyed roller coasters.

That's not what feet are for.

Foot in mouth - again!
Originally uploaded by craft-dabbler

I seriously need to stop doing this with my feet ! ! !

In the wings

The other day I had the most wonderful moment as I was waiting in the wings just before my entrance on stage in La Boheme. It was a moment of overwhelming gratitude. I get so excited when I finally get to perform for an audience - excited to finally share after so much hard work. There's just nothing that beats sharing a character, great music, and a story with an audience. As I was standing there thinking to myself 'well this is it, it's finally here - performance time!! Yaaaay!!' I couldn't help but thank God at that very moment for providing me with the opportunity to do what I truly love to do. I even got a little choked up thinking about it. There's no other place I'd rather be than on the stage. There's no other place where I feel more like myself. (Weird when I'm usually playing characters who are nothing like me) I suppose I feel that I'm doing what I am designed to do. . . I don't know. But I do know that I wouldn't be doing it if God hadn't provided the opera-tunities. I wonder how many people actually get to do what they truly love to do? I wonder how many people even know what they are made to do? I wonder how many people feel that loved by God? So undeservedly loved by the Creator of the Universe - the God who knows each of us so intimately that He graciously gives us the opportunities, the gifts, the endurance, and the discipline that not only glorify Him, but also provide for us such personal joy and fulfillment. I can do nothing but give thanks for all He has given me.

Cheese

Last night I was cleaning up my e-mail box. Deleting e-mails from almost 2 yrs ago. (I'm the type who tends to let it all pile up.) As I was reading a few notes I had sent to some friends in the past I realized that I am just one big slab of cheese. Yup, I said it - I am cheese! When I gush I don't ever realize in the moment how cheesy I sound, but after time has passed I'm almost embarassed by it. Of course being the big cheese that I am I cried when reading some of the letters. . . I don't think my cheesiness will ever change though, it's definitely a part of who I am . . . I just need to embrace it. If I have to be cheese I hope I'm at least like a big hunk of brie. . . hard shell, soft smooth interior, not sharp, goes nice with berries, watercress crackers and wine, doesn't smell like feet. . . .

A Beefy kind of Subject

Admittedly this isn't something that is annoying to me as much as it is something that just makes me sad. I see it far too often - beautiful women who continue to pursue men even when it's clear that those men are not interested in her. I consider myself to be quite observant, and I can't tell you how often I've seen the hope in the eyes of those women who are acknowledged by the man who is clearly not at all into her or; how many conversations I've had with woman who continue to subtly bring up the name of a man who couldn't care less whether she exists or not. I suppose it's something that I recognize because I can't deny that I haven't been there myself several times. Over the past few years I've been seriously trying to guard myself from those false signals that men can irresponsibly put out there. If only we as women could rationally sit down, analyze and easily admit to ourselves 'he really isn't interested in me' and move on. I just wonder how many women waste time trying to get the attention of a man who in reality barely even notices her. I think that there are far too many beautiful women wasting time on men who are too blind to see their beauty.

And now for my rant about those men. I've been told that men can be completely oblivious, but seriously, I sometimes just think that those men simply don't know how to handle the admiration and rather than deal with it they try to ignore it. Men - it is down right irresponsible to dart a smile or chat it up with a woman who clearly has hope for more. I know several men who have dozens of women interested in them and I find it hard to believe that they aren't aware of the fact, when I can sit and see it as plain as the nose on my face from afar. I've sat and watched those men give false hope to women and I've watched women walk away with a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. Men - you need to be more responsible. If you're not sure if you're one of those men, ask someone. If you are more responsible, just think of how many hopeful female hearts you will reserve for men who really will nurture and give cause for hope.

Have you ever . . . .

Have you ever put your hope into something that you know will never happen, but you continue to hope because hoping for it has become a habit?

Have you ever wanted to give up on something so desperately, but hope got in the way?

Have you ever hoped for things to go differently?

Have you ever hoped for something to change?

Have you ever hoped for something new?

Have you ever hoped for love?

Have you ever hoped for something good?

Have you ever hoped for faith?

Have you ever been frustrated by a hope deferred?

Have you ever been disappointed by a hope destroyed?

Have you ever stopped and realized that the only way you managed to get through a day, a month, a year, a life was because of hope?

Have you ever discovered true hope only to realize that you’ve been putting hope into all the wrong things?

Have you ever wondered if we could survive without hope?

I have.

Sometimes I wish I was 2 too!!!

The more time I spend with toddlers, the more I love 'em!! Sometimes after a day of teaching or after a visit with my niece I think to myself, 'wouldn't it be nice to be 2 agian.' :)

Ten Reasons why being a toddler just rocks!!

1. Everything you say or do is absolutey adorable and people are smiling around you all the time.
2. You can act silly or crazy and not be judged by anyone.
3. There's so much to learn and so much to explore.
4. Everything is an adventure, from going to the potty to combing your hair - everything!!
5. You're not afraid to try anything.
6. You get to play with the coolest toys.
7. Giggles are common.
8. You're not afraid to say what you think.
9. The songs you sing are fun fun fun and silly:)
10. Your imagination is starting to flourish and the simplest things can be the most extragagant.

mmmm mmmmm mmmmmmmmm!

It's that time of year again, Blood Orange season. Ahhh how I love blood oranges! My Mom bought me some today, cause she knows I love 'em and thought that I needed some cheering up. I didn't have any of those sweet, yet bitter, yet scrumptious crimson tainted oranges last year because for some reason they are not exported to small town Indiana . . . or they weren't last year anyway and I do recall being utterly disappointed.
The Blood Orange, yet another reason why I'm still appreciating being in my sweet, yet bitter, yet scrumptious, crimson painted Home, even after almost 6 months of being here.

Opera Quotes

" Tenors are like the diarrhea,

you just never know when they are going to start running!"

- Giuseppe Macina

I just can't resist but posting some of the great quotes from our beloved opera director at TOR. He just seems to come up with some real gems on a regular basis that make us all smile:) What makes it really cute is the way he says it in his dramatic Italian accent:) I'm sure that there will be plenty more where that came from for me to post in the next few months.

Hiding in Thee

(Painting - The Psalmist- Gwen Meharg)

O safe to the Rock that is higher than I,
My soul in its conflicts and sorrows would fly;
So sinful, so weary, Thine, Thine, would I be;
Blessed be the Rock of Ages, I’m hiding in Thee.

Hiding in Thee, hiding in Thee,Thou blest Rock of Ages,I’m hiding in Thee.

In the calm of the noontide, in sorrow’s lone hour,
In times when temptation casts o’er me its power;
In the tempests of life, on its wide, heaving sea,
Blessed be Rock of Ages, I’m hiding in Thee.

Hiding in Thee, hiding in Thee,Thou blest Rock of Ages, I’m hiding in Thee.

How oft in the conflict, when pressed by the foe,
I have fled to my refuge and breathed out my woe;
How often, when trials like sea billows roll,
Have I hidden in Thee, O Thou Rock of my soul.

Hiding in Thee, hiding in Thee,Thou blest Rock of Ages, I’m hiding in Thee.


Hymn - William O. Cushing

Radiate

This is a prophetic piece of art created especially for me by my friend Joy. Unfortunately my photo doesn't do justice to the real life vibrant pastel drawing. I'm not entirely sure what it all means. Joy described some of the images to me and I know that it addresses a part of my heart that needs to see it because I feel absolutely encouraged when I look at it. The only word that comes to mind is "radiate" so that's what I titled it. How amazing is it that God would use His creativity through us to encourage, to heal and to inspire. Thanks Joy for giving me such a beautiful gift:)