Thursday, July 06, 2006

A range of Emotions

Remembering the wonderful mezzo Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, whose interpretations of Bach cantatas move me beyond words. She died of cancer this past Monday. I'm grateful for her artistry, but am so sad I'll never hear her live again. For more, here's NPR's article on her:

We spent the past several days up in Michigan, west of Detroit and north of Ann Arbor, at a state park. We were sixteen family members ranging in age from 2 to 70+. Some wonderful moments:
  • sand hill cranes and deer in the road in the early morning, plus a family of raccoons who shamelessly walked around our cabins looking for food
  • a July Fourth small-town parade in a nearby town, complete with five candidates each for Probate Judge and District Court Judge, a jump-rope drill team, and firemen playing soccer with a bowling ball, propelling it with hoses spurting water
  • my brother-in-law gracefully explaining the possible reasons why we have so many flood stories, like ours of Noah and the Ark, in so many different ancient traditions, to my scary-bright 13 year old nephew
  • my almost-three year old nephew saying "Please" and "Thank you"...most of the time
  • s'mores made with Reese's peanut butter cups
  • driving through Ann Arbor and hearing my MIL and FIL tell stories of their days there as students (she in nursing, he in med school)
  • the cries of loons and geese and cranes at 6 in the morning
  • bratwursts on the grill.

Of course, bringing the bocce ball set turned out to be a mistake, since the little one decided he should drop them on his dad's foot and throw one at his mom's arm. Ouch.
Now, 16 people in two large family cabins means the likelihood that someone, or two, or three, will snore is pretty high. Thus, I was grateful for the earplugs and melatonin that I brought with me.

As wonderful as it was, I was glad to be home again in my quiet little house, with a real toilet and a shower I didn't have to drive to. And I need to detox from all the coffee we drank (they are Swedish, after all).

Tomorrow will begin the postulants' retreat for new postulants in our diocese. I'll meet eight other folks at our diocesan conference center 100 miles from here. I'm excited and little scared.

Last but not least, I'm bummed. My lovely 2000 Saab needs a brain transplant, it appears. The mechanics will call me tomorrow to see if the transplant successfully fixed its problem. Would that it were as easy for me and my quirky brain!

Life is full, indeed.

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