A Wedding in the North Woods

My niece, my brother's daughter, got married on Saturday. She and her (now) husband live in the Twin Cities and the wedding was several hours north of Minneapolis at a large, fancy resort. We flew to Minneapolis and then drove up and stayed at the resort.

The name of the resort is Grand View Lodge, and it did indeed have a grand setting for their outdoor wedding. We sat at the base of a long set of stairs coming down from the lodge, facing the lake. It was a beautiful view of the lake and woods, but it was also incredibly hot. The bride and groom had told all the men to forget wearing their suit jackets. The resort passed out paper fans.

But it was all worth it. My nephew, the brother of the bride, is a professional trombone player, and his wife is a harpist. They provided the music, while their toddler son hovered near by. The little one was also the ring bearer, though he had some trouble with the concept. The rings were in a fairly large box, which he dropped, but he finally made it over to the bride and groom, helped by his father.

The bride and groom had been together for a long time before getting married. I don't think you can call it "dating" if it goes on for years. They each wrote a lovely speech that they read to each other (and the guests). It was a very heart-felt ceremony. 

There was dinner and dancing after, but the best part for my husband and me was talking to people. My brother, sister, and I, and our families all live in different states, so we rarely see each other. We have been zooming occasionally, but there's nothing like being able to sit and talk in person. And we did a lot of that this weekend! We also saw people we hadn't seen in years, and met guests we hadn't known before. 

Regarding dinner, I am lactose intolerant and a pescatarian, so I got a lovely salmon without the sauce that everyone else had. It was delicious - my husband was jealous and ended up eating part of mine. If you need a special dinner, you probably have to wait til they have passed out all the regular dinners, but mine was hot off the pan and absolutely delicious. 

The party continued the next morning when my brother and sister-in-law invited quite a few people to the cottage they were staying in, also on a lake. I think this was a different lake than the one by the resort. Minnesota is the land of 10,000 lakes after all. More chatting and eating, and then we were off, back to Minneapolis to catch our flight back to Chicago. 

My siblings and I and our spouses have all agreed that next summer we will meet up somewhere in the middle and hang out for a few days. Family is important.

Language, Invented Words and Consequences

While trying to decide what to write about today, I stumbled on words invented by writers. It makes sense that language -- all languages -- are invented, though language is an innate part of being human. 

Dr. Seuss invented "nerd," in If I Ran the Zoo. Lewis Carroll created "chortle," a portmanteau of chuckle and snort. J.R.R. Tolkien invented "tween." He used it to describe hobbits between the ages of 20 and 33. Charles Dickens came up with "butterfingers" in The Pickwick Papers, (which I have not read). 

William Shakespeare invented over 2,000 new words! Surprisingly, "bump" is one of them.

There have been a lot of new words appearing in my lifetime. Brainwashing, fast food, UFO, and moisturizer (!) all appeared in the 1950s. Many of the more recent new words have to do with technology, which makes sense. Text-messaging, channel-surfing, blog, binge-watching, among others. 

Some new words die a quick death, though not always painless. When I was in 6th grade in a small town in Wisconsin, my class created a new word, "cinch-ky," meaning it's a cinch. As in, "we have to do ten pull-ups? Cinch-ky!" It was very popular among the 5th and 6th graders, but it drove our teacher batty. She banned it and threatened that anyone who said it would have their mouth washed out with soap. This was the early 1960s. Policing your own vocabulary can be hard, especially for 10 and 11-year-olds, and one of my classmates said it, not to be disrespectful or provocative. It just slipped out. 

The teacher made everyone leave the classroom except for the unfortunate boy. And yes, she washed his mouth with soap and water. No one used the word again, so she achieved her goal. No teacher could get away with that today, of course, and rightly so.

And maybe that's why cinchky never made it into the English language.

Memories of building things

 I picked a prompt from "5-Minute Writing Prompts" again today. The prompt is "Write about your childhood experiences with experimenting or building. Did you play with LEGO blocks, mix crazy concoctions in your kitchen, make bottle rockets, grow crystals from a kit, or build elaborate forts?"

I didn't think LEGOs were invented yet, but I looked them up and they were invented in 1958, but my family didn't have any as far as I can recall. I definitely had "science kits," which included all the ingredients for various experiments. That was fun, though I don't remember actually learning any science. 

When my little brother was maybe 6 or 7, or possibly older, I built a castle for him. I used a cardboard box. I don't remember exactly, but there might have been the cylinder-shaped oatmeal containers as the towers. It had a drawbridge that opened. I think I connected string to that. I don't remember much else about the construction, but my brother loved it.  I think we all (my brother, sister and I) played with it. I regret that there don't seem to be any photos.

I just asked him what he remembers about it. He said, "For my toy knights? Yes... I don't have pictures either. It had turrets at each corner, and maybe a staircase inside? I can't recall it exactly."

The castle lasted for years. I think my brother was a teenager when our mom suggested he allow her to throw it away. He reluctantly agreed. 

No photos, but maybe that's a good thing. It lives in our imaginations.

Fire, Fire, Burning Bright

 I found a prompt about fire in "5-Minute Daily Writing Prompts" that reads "List your memories of fire (bonfires, forest fires, fireplaces, candlelight, matches, burned objects, etc.) Develop one memory, incorporating sensory detail." I consider this just a suggestion.

Anyone here remember the great East Coast blackout? I had to look up the date - November 9, 1965. I also found out that the blackout started at 5:27pm and affected the northeast coast of the U.S. and Ontario. Many people in New York City were trapped in the subway and in elevators.  

We lived in Connecticut at the time and my dad commuted into NYC every day. My mom drove him to the train every morning and picked him up in the evening. When the blackout started, my sister, brother, and I were all home from school, but my dad was on a commuter train, which stopped in Harlem. Harlem was not a very safe place at that time. My Dad told us that one man decided to get off the train to look for other transportation. He got back on shortly, minus his wallet.

This was, of course, way before cell phones, so we didn't know exactly where our dad was. I remember my mom starting a fire in the fireplace, so it must have been chilly. 

I don't remember how my Dad got home, though he did get home that evening. I also don't remember how we got news of what was happening -- maybe from the car radio?

More recently, here in Illinois, (maybe 2011?), we had a power outage in the Northwest suburbs of Chicago. It was summer. My husband, son, and I were all living at home; our daughter was off at summer school in Indiana. 

We lost power for several days, so I bought big bags of ice and filled our large cooler. We cooked on our charcoal grill. We enjoyed sitting around cozy fires in our fire pit, which is sort of like a low, wide Weber grill. There was no television, of course, or radio, so we spent time sitting outside, often around the fire, talking. 

It was amazing. We slowed down. We had a wonderful time in the back yard, just talking and enjoying the summer.

But eventually the power came back on. And everything went back to normal.

Musing on Shoes

Searching through prompts for an idea to write about, I found: "Write memories of your shoes (cheap shoes, expensive shoes, dream shoes, shoes you loved, shoes that embarrassed you, shoes that hurt your feet, etc.) 

When I was a child I had to wear corrective shoes. I think this was because I tended to roll inward on my arches, flattening them out. These shoes were always saddle shoes, always black and white. I was so jealous of other girls who got to wear other kinds of shoes. Here I am in my saddle shoes:

Eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime, a shoe salesman said he didn't think I needed corrective shoes anymore. My mother was okay with that and my shoe wearing expanded.

Regional vocabulary: In Wisconsin we wore tennies. When we moved to Connecticut, they were sneakers. Now I think these shoes are called gym shoes everywhere?

I have indeed worn shoes that hurt my feet - are there any women who have never worn shoes that hurt? Surreptitiously slipping them off while sitting to give my toes a break -  I'm done with that now. 

For awhile I wore shoes with the negative heel - the heel is lower than the toe, so your calf muscles get stretched. I liked then, though they were definitely not stylish. My daughter is sold on the shoes that are completely flat, no arch support, so I got a pair of those. They're fine, though sometimes you do need that arch support. 

If I had to choose a favorite footwear, I would pick sandals! I love my Teva sandals, but I really can't wear them in the winter in Chicago, sadly. It's hiking boots all winter.

I'm really not obsessed with footwear, but it turns out there is quite a lot to say about shoes.

Passover Challenge

 We usually go to my brother-in-law and sister-in-law's for the Passover seder. This year, though, they were not able to host it. So Dean and I decided to have a seder at our house. There are usually 13 people at our usual seder, but we would not be hosting that many. For one thing, our house is smallish. So we invited our son, daughter-in-law, two-year-old grandson, and the other set of grandparents.

We assembled the traditional seder plate. The menu needed to include matzah ball soup. My husband makes the absolute best gefilte fish. It takes all day, but it is a thousand times better than the jarred gefilte fish. Other than that, we just needed to avoid anything with leavening. So chicken, asparagus, and two casseroles the other grandma made. For dessert we had various cookies and chocolate matzah toffee. 

Matzah is truly not an interesting food to eat. Some have compared it to cardboard. But cover it with caramel and chocolate... it's wonderful. In case you want to try it (you don't need to wait for Passover!), here is the recipe:

Passover Matzah Toffee

1 cup brown sugar

1 cup butter

About 4 pieces of matzah

12 oz. bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips (get a high quality brand)

1 cup nuts, optional

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line a cookie sheet with aluminum foil and either spray with PAM or lightly grease with vegetable oil. Cover with matzahs - break to fit. Melt butter and sugar over low heat (on the stove). Turn to medium high and stir until bubbling (thick and gooey).  Pour the butter mixture over the matzahs and spread to cover them. Bake 5 minutes at 350. Then cover with 2 cups of chocolate chips. Bake 1 minute. Spread the chocolate with the back of a spoon. Sprinkle with nuts if using. Refrigerate. Once it is chilled and the chocolate is solidified, break the toffee into irregular pieces using a knife or your hands. 

I store it in the refrigerator, but you could probably keep it out. We like it cool and solid.

Post-Cruise Crud and Horn Baths

 My husband and I, along with our son, daughter-in-law, two-year-old grandson, and the other grandma, went on a Caribbean cruise about two weeks ago. We had fun, played with monkeys, went to a beach, and visited the oldest synagogue in the Western Hemisphere. 

Immediately upon returning to Illinois I got the worst cold I have had in decades. I have obviously lost my teacher immunity. My son calls it the ship crud. 

The main problem with being sick was that I had agreed to play a concert with a local community orchestra because they were short of (French) horn players. Not only that, but I agreed to play first horn on the Dvorak's New World Symphony. It's a well-known, popular work with really fun but challenging horn parts. 

Playing a brass instrument is somewhat similar to being an athlete. If you don't work out (practice), your muscles lose strength and flexibility. So as sick as I felt, I practiced every day once we got home. Cutting to the chase, the concert went well. First horn players often have assistant horn players who fill in on the loud tutti parts so the first horn can back off and save their chops for the exposed parts. I was so lucky and happy to have a friend playing assistant. 

So I have been blowing my germs into my horn for the past 8 days. Now my horn needs a bath to wash out those germs. 

Years ago I read a blog post online written by a British horn player about cleaning his horn after being sick. Actually, as I recall, he couldn't seem to shake the illness and kept getting sick repeatedly. The blog post was hilarious. He wrote about washing the horn in his bathtub and expelling a blob of something while soaking the entire bathroom, while laughing at the whole calamity. It was more dramatic than trying to wash a cat, (which I have done). (His blog post is no longer on line or I would post the link. I'm not naming him in case he wants to forget the whole horn bath experience.)

Once I stop coughing and sneezing, it will be bath time.

The Fateful Number Nine

 I just read franmcveigh's interesting post on numbers. I am not into sports, so my numbers will be differently oriented.

I am currently playing in the Waukegan Symphony (Illinois) and we are performing Dvorak's Symphony #9 in a few weeks. Nine has turned out to be a fateful number in classical music. Beethoven wrote nine symphonies before he died. Antonin Dvořák wrote nine symphonies. Gustav Mahler called his ninth symphony "The Song of the Earth" (Das Lied von der Erde) in order to escape the curse of the ninth. However, he then wrote his Symphony #9 and died before finishing number 10. Who else? Franz Schubert. Anton Bruckner died after his ninth symphony, but his first symphony is number zero (Symphony #0), so that makes ten in total. There are a number of lesser known composers who also wrote only nine symphonies ("only nine," as if that is somehow lacking!)

Dvořák's ninth symphony is subtitled "From the New World." He wrote it while living in NYC in 1893. He was working as the director of the National Conservatory of Music in New York City. He was fascinated by the music of African-Americans and Native Americans; these influences show up in the symphony. I will add that it's challenging but also really fun to play!

In researching who wrote nine symphonies, I came across the interesting trivia that Midsomer Murders has an episode (Synopsis: http://midsomermurders.org/curseninth2.htm) titled "The Curse of the Ninth." I have never watched this series, but now I might have to have a look.

If you are interested in who else wrote only nine symphonies, here are at least some of the composers: Alexander Glazunov,  Ralph Vaughan Williams, Alfred Schnittke, and Malcom Arnold.

On the other hand (more numbers), Franz Joseph Haydn wrote 106, Mozart wrote 41 numbered symphonies (there  is some dispute about exactly how many), Johannes Brahms wrote 4. Tchaikovsky wrote 6. Some well-known composers, like Frederic Chopin, wrote none, zero. 

The Musical that Isn't

 Stuck for ideas today (again!) I turned to 5-minute daiy writing prompts and picked this:

"Brainstorm ideas for a quirky musical that, as far as you know, has not been written."

I love musicals. I grew up listening to the soundtracks of many musicals because my Dad also loved musicals. We had the songs from Carousel, The Sound of Music, West Side Story, South Pacific, and more that I don't remember at the moment on LPs. 

Most musicals, at least the old ones from my youth, came from books. I looked up lists of recent popular novels. Bel Canto by Ann Patchett has been made into an opera. We saw it at Lyric Opera of Chicago and liked it. 

But, a QUIRKY musical -- I want to take the character Data from Star Trek: The Next Generation, and put him in a story with Elizabeth Bennet from Pride and Prejudice and Sherlock Holmes. Data would be delighted to be paired up with Holmes since he has already played that part in the Enterprise's Holodeck. But Elizabeth Bennet? What would he make of her? 

The plot would need to be a mystery to solve. 

Imagine my surprise when I googled "mystery ideas with Sherlock Holmes, Elizabeth Bennet and Data" and found that there is already a series (two books as of now) of mysteries with Holmes and Miss Elizabeth! I only need to add Data. And this has morphed into a novel, no longer a musical.

Time travel has happened in the Star Trek universe, so Data will travel back in time to the Regency Era and meet Miss Elizabeth. At a ball? That he accidentally finds himself at? Data will understand much about this time period, but not how to act so as not to draw attention to himself. Sherlock Holmes needs a logical reason to be in this story so he can investigate this strange being. Elizabeth will be her normal witty and observant self -- but what will she make of Data? 

This sounds like a lot of fun.

One Little Word 2025

 I was reminded by some of the blog posts last week that I hadn't found a OLW yet. Starting to work on ideas, I tried out some ideas.

How do I feel about 2025? 

Apprehensive. That's a terrible choice for an OLW.

So I'm thinking about the things that are important to me. Family. Community. Connection.

Family. It's just me and my husband at our home now. Our son lives nearby with his wife and our grandson. Our daughter lives in Houston where she plays in the Houston Ballet Orchestra and teaches many many young French horn players. My brother lives in Omaha and my sister in Columbus, Ohio. I have a nephew in NYC and a niece in Minneapolis, as well as a niece in Chicago. My husband's family - brother, sister-in-law, and children - all live in the Chicago area. 

It is so much easier to stay connected now. My siblings and me plus spouses have semi-regular Zoom get-togethers. I am very fortunate that we all get along, in spite of significant differences. My brother-in-law is a retired Lutheran minister, while my branch of the family is Jewish. We have wonderful chats on Zoom.

My niece (my brother's daughter) is getting married this summer in the middle of nowhere north of Minneapolis. That will be lovely and a chance to see everyone in person. 

So thinking about what I just wrote, I think my word for 2025 is FAMILY. Keeping those connections strong. 

A childhood memory?

I was trying to think what to write about today. I consulted 642 Things to Write About and decided on this one: "Late one night, you discover an abandoned UFO in the middle of a field outside an abandoned farmhouse."

When I was almost 12, my family moved from a small town in Wisconsin to Cos Cob, Connecticut. It was suburban, being on the train line to New York City, where my father went to work each weekday. But it was also very country-like. Our neighborhood was heavily wooded, no curbs on the streets, and everyone had septic tanks -- no sewers. Also no street lights. It was a friendly neighborhood where most people knew each other. Our house was the last one on one side of the road and was next to a small woods. 

One night we somehow got the news that there was something mysterious happening at the end of the street that ran perpendicular to ours. It dead-ended in another wooded area. Reports were confusing - had something crashed? What?

My dad and sister and I walked around the corner and down to the end of that street. A small group of our neighbors were there. Something had happened. And I still don't know what it was. We all stood around for a while but nothing conclusive happened -- unless the adults were keeping it from us. I don't  think anyone called the police. (Though we had a policeman living next door to us.)

Guesses? Someone hanging out in the woods? Teenagers? A stalled car? A "traveler" bedding down in the woods? 

Memory is a tricky thing. The experts say that every time you "take a memory out to look at," you alter it. And when adults don't explain to you what is happening, that compounds the memory issue. And none of those adults are around anymore to ask, if they would even remember this. 

Maybe the best thing to do with this memory? Use it in a story.