On Tuesday, April 24, 2007, it snowed again. Over two feet. Resulting in the high school closing for two days, me missing a day of work (I am paid by the hour); and power being out at the cabin for two and a half days. We returned to our turn of the century ways (the 1800s century). Candles came out, we bathed in snow melt and water heated on the woodstove, I returned to work sporting a wet head look. Yesterday we had running water in the kitchen again in two ways: 1) the power was back on, so the well pump provides water to the faucet, 2) the warm temperatures caused that two feet of snow to melt quickly, seeping in the back wall of the kitchen washing across the tile floor and cascading into the gap between the kitchen wall and the slightly lower main cabin. Thank God for small favors! Without the gap the yearly spring run-off would flood the living room!
Originally uploaded by ein feisty Berg.
Well begun is half done. I love learning. I love knowledge. I covet a classical education. I want that black robe and a hood and a quaint little cap that says I have earned credibility and worked hard for knowledge. Not that I ever loved going to school very much as a youth. Sure, start of school was exciting; but by the time third quarter rolled around I was tired of the constant grind and ready to bolt or be carried away by my daydreams. Nevertheless, education has been an ongoing thread in my journey. Every chance I got, I took classes. Finally, in December of 2005, I graduated. 128 credit hours are needed for a normal bachelor’s degree. I graduated with 144 and walked in the ceremony the following May. A bachelor’s degree is not quite the PhD my brain has longed for before I die, but one has to start somewhere. One will never get a doctorate if one drops out of high school, or college. Well begun is mighty satisfying! P.S. The one on the Right DOES have a PhD!
Before I turned 40 I began writing books. I began teaching Language 101 and Manners 101 to my toddlers even through I said I would never home school. I loved playing the piano. I loved precisely rolled and folded fresh laundry neatly tucked exactly where it should be. I loved being a stay at home mom, yard-sale-ing; and I baked tons of bread and stretched chicken and beef to nourish my family on a very limited budget. Aside from budgeting and laundry; what did I want to do with my life?
I wanted to return to Colorado before I died.
I wanted to be a published author.
I wanted to be the quintessential Proverbs 31 woman.
I wanted to mentor younger women and be mentored by older, wiser women.
I began to say that my “Fantasy Island” would be performing on the stage at Red Rocks.
I wanted to find the best public education possible for my kids.
I wanted to spend time around stages, microphones, studios and musicians.
I wanted to invest my life, make a difference in my world, and make a difference in the lives of others.
I wanted to travel and see places unknown, via plane, and train, and auto, to experience “the good life,” in all its changing forms.
I wanted to be a person of knowledge and influence.
Well, Gentle Reader; the list contains 10; some general, some specific; yet remaining consistent through the intervening years; plumb with much of what I desired even in childhood. When we meet again I will endeavor to assess how I am doing; which goals are met, which are yet to strive for.
When I turned 30 I was single.I wanted to make my living in Music. I wanted to minister to musicians. I wanted to earn a degree in music. I wanted to provide for my son some of the material things I had missed and I wanted to provide such learning and education for him that he would be able to avoid the mistakes made by me; and his father. I wanted to date. I longed to be pursued. I wanted to write a book (published and paid). I wanted to marry a symphony conductor. I wanted to pay off my debts and feel freedom. I needed a full time job. I wanted to marry a radio personality. I wanted more kids before the biological clock ceased to tick. I wanted to be in full time Christian Ministry. How did I do?Well, I opened a music gift store which failed. I did a stint as volunteer interviewer of musicians for the local radio station. I took a college class in Music Appreciation. I sent my son to private school and paid the tuition by teaching music there. I began to date (5 guys). I felt pursued by two of them. I wrote volumes in my journal. I dated a symphony conductor, but he was not one of the two who pursued. I moved back in with my parents in order to pay off some of my debts. I beat the streets looking for a full time job and found none. I worked part time at a radio station, taught piano to 20 students, played piano at church, led the praise ensemble at church, married the night guy from the radio station, gave birth to a daughter, moved to Texas and gave birth to a son.
In the decade that was my twenties
I just wanted to survive. I just wanted to die. I wanted to be a songwriter (published and paid). I wanted to be married for a lifetime. I wanted to be the thinnest, most gorgeous babe in the world (in hopes of making my marriage survive). I wanted to scream. I wanted to play the piano constantly. I wanted to sing at the top of my lungs forever. I began to say I would love to have a doctorate. I wanted to do everything right so I would be successful and comfortable and be able, for just one moment or one day or one week, to let go and relax. So, what did I do? I survived. I wrote songs. I experienced a divorce. I became dangerously thin. I gained 20 pounds. I took voice and piano and choir at the college. I screamed. I was not able to do everything right. I was still unable to let go and relax.I
Originally uploaded by ein feisty Berg.
Connie Sue and Cheryl Ann, circa 1956-57
At the beginning of each new year a flurry of posts and essays and articles appear bandying about such terms as goals, resolutions, or “things I want to do before I die.” I have given this some thought and will begin a series of posts as I add items. Meanwhile, I am revisting the dreams and goals I have had over the years, a kind of review by decade.
During the first 10 years of my life I wanted to be: a stewardess (flight attendant), a choir director, a spy, a piano player, a drummer, and a “smart” or gifted student. I read voraciously and saw myself as the heroine. I longed to run through meadows, move to the music, and be somebody.
The second ten years were mostly a dark tunnel. I wanted a boy friend, I wanted to be popular, I wanted to have more than 5 daily dresses, one Saturday work dress, and one Sunday dress. I made New Year’s resolutions such as, “go on my first date before the end of this year.” I read voraciously and thought it would be exquisitly wonderful and romantic to go to a malt shop and sip soda through two straws from the same elegant glass with someone of the opposite sex. I felt I ought to be a missionary to a foriegn country and I wanted to be a pastor’s wife. I wanted to graduate from high school. I wanted to play piano for the rest of my life (but I hated to practice). I wished there was some type of automatic composer hooked to my piano so I wouldn’t have to write notes by hand. I wished I was a gifted student without trying and I was a gifted student when it came to music. I wanted to know and be known, to be acknowledged as someone special, to have a kindred spirit friend.
So, how did I do? I started teaching piano at the age of 15, I sang in an excellent choir. I made it to sweet sixteen without being kissed. I married the first guy I dated. I had the opportunity to student direct the choir in prep for college and decided not to go to college.I finished high school and married shortly after my 18th birthday. I thought we were going to be missionaries to a foriegn country or at least ministers in the USA, but he decided to be an atheist.
As for the kindred spirit friend, I had two cousins (one of each gender) who served wisely and loyally in this capacity; when I was not too infatuated or emmeshed with my boyfriend to do my part toward the friendship.
Stop the presses! I found my pictures! I have been searching for six weeks. Now I can write the blog planned in February, “Ten things I want to do before I die,” and a narrative of how the list is coming!