Letters from Home

23 years ago, I was taking violin lessons from Liz Deters. She played the violin for Fiddler on the Roof at Sundance Summer Theater. When she went on vacation that summer, I got to fill in for her in the orchestra pit.

She told me, after handing me the paycheck, “Angie, now you are a professional violinist.”

I was 15 and my hair was very big. Enjoy your laugh. My mom asked me to pose  in front of the orchestra pit, which was a cold, dark, primitive arrangement which was covered with insufficient plastic when it rained. I depended heavily on the accordion player and I made some big mistakes, but I did it. I played for a huge audience.

This experience, although small, meant so much to me. It was the biggest moment in my violin career, and one of only two gigs for which I have been paid.

I didn’t choose to follow violin dreams. I never felt like I fit in with the company that I kept. The crowd was elite and intense. My poor skill in scales and theory as well as my lack of a broad knowledge of violin repertoire are my weaknesses.

However, I have always felt that I had a gift, even if it wasn’t well honed. I told myself that when people asked me to play, I would say yes. I have said no to requests only two times in the 29 years that I have played.

Saying yes is the price to keep my skills.

Funerals, missionary farewells, firesides, Stake Broadway shows, Church and community Christmas concerts, sacrament meetings, mountain hillsides, and desert landscapes are a small list of my amateur venues over the years. I’ve also been a part of a couple of ensembles and I was the concert master in an orchestra in Tucson.

Since moving back to Utah, I have been asked to play OFTEN. I’m working to reestablish a good practice schedule. Last night I had a great time at the Stake Broadway Review rehearsals. I get to play Fiddler again, and I’m loving it.

The show is on February 23rd. Come!

Earlier this week I declared it “Care Package Day” and I prepared several packages for people who weren’t expecting anything. I didn’t spend much; I found a paperback book, a little chocolate, and some novelties. For some people, I just wrote a letter. I like to imagine their reaction when they get these unexpected tokens of my affection in their mail box.

This little activity got me through the last murky days of January. Hooray! It’s good for everyone.

Mark has quite a collection of animals in hibernation with him these days.

He’s very accommodating to let them take over the bed. Such a lovey!

I wander to the window of our living room before bed each night. I sit and look across the valley at the lights. The white stillness is such a comfort.

We have experienced 3 seasons in Utah. The lackadaisical summer evenings made way for spectacular autumn leaves and sunsets; the winter is a welcome rest with its slower and deliberate pace. I think often of the tulip bulbs we planted outside, ready to come up in a few weeks to celebrate the arrival of spring.

While I make it a point not to let the weather rule my mood or plans, there are undeniable voices in each season, teaching me and pulling at my moods. Winter teaches me that it is okay to rest. The illnesses of winter remind me to be thankful for health. The snow brightens an otherwise darker world, reminding me to keep hope. Winter is a time for rest and study. Winter is the only time I can see the lights across the valley because the leaves on the trees normally block the view.

Perhaps today if you’re feeling winter blues, you can find a winter truth or a winter window view and love it.

People like to ask us if we wish we were back in Arizona. Nope. It’s cold, but that’s part of the Utah package. And we really sacrificed to get here.

The boys are fascinated by our icicles. I do not like the spelling of the word icicles.

The little boys and I like to measure our amaryllis plant growing in the light of the window. We do it several times a day.

Today I’ll finish reading The Long Winter in my Little House marathon. It helps me to feel warm and blessed since it’s not 40 below and I have a furnace and flour.

Today I bought some pretty cards so I can spread some love via mail. Some people I know really need some love.

I also bought a $1 daily planner so I can keep a copy of my to do lists. I was really inspired by a blog post I read by a woman who found her mother’s 1968 planner. She listed everything her mother had written in that planner for a year. What a marvelous picture of a woman’s life, full of 1960’s flavor. I thought it would be interesting to save my lists for 2013 instead of throwing them away.  I am a list maker on most days. Maybe in 50 years somebody will be amused to read that I wrote something called blog posts, went to a store called Costco (often!), and at age 38, still hadn’t figured out how to do laundry in an organized way.

Today I didn’t make a list. I’ve been a little aimless in my pursuits, but sometimes that’s good, too. Sometimes I make a list of things I have DONE rather than a list of things I need to DO. This way, I can check off everything on my “list.”

It’s not too hard to be happy in the winter. I surround myself with office supplies and books. Good times!