The return of Tool-Girl

I was a little distressed this weekend to notice a new tendency of the hood of my car to come loose as I drive down the road. I didn't have the time to fuss with it properly until yesterday evening. With my trusty WD-40, a piece of rope, and strong piano fingers, I fixed it! There's a marvelous glow of accomplishment that comes with doing a job yourself -- especially if the result is more effective than simply tying the thing shut.

By the way, a note for all you would-be studs out there, 'cause I know you read my blog (note sarcasm, please...) -- The thing a sweaty, oil-begrimed girl wants to hear as she mucks around under the hood of her car is not "Hey, baby, what's your name?" Not even if you repeat it several times. While it may be somewhat flattering to discover you think there's something appealling buried between the humidity-induced curls, oil-blackened fingers, and paint-covered cut-offs, this is not the time. Trust me, she simply isn't in the mood.

Whew!

I was crunching numbers last night on my way home, and I was a little appalled. In the space of a fairly compact 14-hour workday, I wore the following hats:
- Music therapist
- Piano teacher
- Publicist
- Administrative Assistant
- Student of German
- Pianist

I don't think my car has room for all those hats in one day! Everything went pretty well; sight-reading in public and flying by the seat of my pants is sort of what I do. But I'm still tired. Sigh, sigh, poor me...

On a side-note, Tim the Oil-Change Guy made a deep observation this morning. "You get a lot of oil-changes. You must drive a lot." Uh, yeah, you think so, Tim? Great deductive powers our Tim has.

And that's a glimpse inside my head for this Saturday morning!

Loss and Legacy

Last Thursday, September 6, the great Madeleine L'Engle passed on at age 88. Her books figured in my childhood and rather more prominently in my adulthood. Her writing reflected her depth of contemplation and thought, which is what I most enjoyed. The plots were fun enough, some more than others, the characters were usually relatable, sometimes more fully-fleshed than others, but the real reason for reading her works is to enter into her thought processes. Reading the thoughts of someone who is thoughtful helps me to think and dream and contemplate. I'm glad that she left a great legacy that will not be lost.

Another hero of mine passed away this summer. Tommy Makem died on August 1 at age 74. I grew up listening to his music; my first instrument was the penny-whistle, inspired by the combination of his recordings and my parents' provision of the instrument. I had always looked on him as my own personal property in some way. He blended, in my childish mind, with the musicians that my father knew. I considered him a friend of the family, though I never met him; imagine my surprise when I discovered that he was a legend in the realm of Irish folk music! He inspired thousands and revived a dying art-form. That was a life worth living.

When I die, will my legacy be worth my years? I can't plan my days around making a lasting impact on generations to come; that's the wrong motivation. And I doubt that is how either of the folks began. The trick is to find what I must do today and do it; what I have trouble grasping with my finite mind is how I can do it for another fifty years. I have been told that I'm a "marathon runner," persistent, "in for the long haul." Hopefully, this indicates that my recurring desire to quit is buried well beneath my determination to finish the job. I wonder if other people share this battle between winning and running.

Petite Pianists

One of these days, I'm going to try a pleasant little dull life. I will go to work every morning at nine, complete eight hours of data entry or hedge-trimming or phone solicitation, go home at five, and sleep eight hours a night. I will eat three balanced meals each day, read the newspaper every morning, and conduct my days in a boring, organized manner. I will not work with children. I will not work with musicians. I will avoid visionaries at all costs.

Let's face it, I might last a week.

I thrive on chaos! I'm forever juggling a thousand things at once, spreading myself too thin, doing things myself rather than delegating; I wouldn't keep running my life this way if I didn't enjoy it to some extent. I'm officially retired from classroom teaching. It was not designed with me in mind -- ask if you want the saga. So, how on earth did I end up teaching a class of 4-7 year old beginning pianists? And why do I enjoy it? I tell you, it's a blast! You get them all dancing to the music, listening in rapt attention to the story, exploring the keyboards... It's organized chaos, methodic madness, truly exhausting, and an awful lot of fun.

This is the part of group teaching that I enjoyed. The logistics wore me out; real teaching envigorates me no end. I'm pretty blessed to do what I love in a setting that I control. I imagine there are not too many people who can say the same.

There is much rejoicing!

I'm safe! Guitar guy, he of the incredible height and big blue eyes that my boss was so wild about for me, is engaged! Yippee for him, yippee for me! Now my boss will probably be stuck on fixing me up with the percussion guy. But she's not quite as wild about him -- at any rate, no pictures of him have appeared on my desk. Perhaps my lack of social life will become a little less interesting to my local Yente.

Birthday Reflections

On this, my first morning at age 29, I am feeling good. This is not always the case. When I turned 25, I woke up feeling old. When I turned 28, I was terrified as I started a brand-new chapter of my life. On turning 29, though, I find that I am content. I'm not distressed at the impending close of my 20's -- actually, it feels like a really long decade at this point, and I'll be thrilled to move on! I'm not apprehensive at my apparent lack of direction in life. I don't feel inadequate because my mother was married with two children by this time in her life. I'm not even depressed because I celebrated alone last night. I feel good.

I love my job, the paying one. I love my work, the non-paying part. I adore my new piano teacher. I get a kick out of German. I like living in Kentucky. The sunrise this morning was more gorgeous than it has been all week. I sprang to life before the alarm rang -- and considering that the alarm rings at four, that doesn't happen very often! This will be a wonderful year. It will certainly be difficult in many ways, and has already been so. Nonetheless, I'm thrilled to be 29 today.

A Quick Note to Catch Up With...

I don't really have that much to blog about, but I just realized that it had been well over a week since my last note. So this will be a little newsy, rather than philosophical.

Classes have started! I'm trying to limit what I'm doing, thus preventing utter exhaustion and physical break-down (we hope!). So I'm only taking German and piano, which will turn out to be plenty, I think. I'm enjoying German, and my first lesson went well, but there is work to do!

I have several new students this semester, which promises to be fun. I'm teaching a lot, working in the office a lot, and have some neat therapy projects in the works. It's fairly necessary to stay very on top of things, but it's not overwhelming. And I don't think it will be, so long as I stay well-behaved from the outset.

Since I'm at work so much, I've increased my internet usage! I'm trying to force myself to take lunch and dinner breaks, to prevent grouchiness and exhaustion, and I'm finding new internet toys that are helping me do that. Besides, it helps me to interact with folks that I never get a chance to see. Despite the fact that I keep moving away from my friends, I really do miss them.

And it's time to practice! More later, I promise...