This afternoon I played my last performance of the Nutcracker for this season. This year's performances really went quickly; I can't believe they're already over. I think part of the reason it seemed so quick was that my stress level was way down this year. My fingers are mostly doing what I ask them to do, and this year they're also feeling much more loose, less like I'm pushing my fingers through wet cement. I didn't quite hit my goal of being able to meditate my way through the whole show, but I actually got fairly close. This year was the first year post-MS that I played all of the notes in the first violin part as written. Last year I still had to leave out a few.

Now that Nutcracker is over, I can get to work on a couple of the really hairy violin parts I gave myself (or that Mike requested I play) for TML. And I can get going on my two big Winter projects: getting more consistent on the violin and going down the stairs more smoothly. The stairs will be pretty easy if I can get myself out on ice skates regularly (last year I noticed that just one night of ice skating really did good things for whatever muscles aren't quite firing correctly on the left side). The violin will be harder, since it requires more practice time. But my stand partner in Nutcracker is also looking to improve her violin skills, and she is also one of the nicest people I know. We decided we're going to be practice partners.

Just read tonight: about half of The Millionaire Mind, by Thomas Stanley. After that I just skimmed and read the bold text. His main point was "you don't have to have been a good student to be successful", and stressed having faith, perseverence, and good people skills. I also got The Millionaire Next Door out of the library, but I think I'll skip it. His points were good, but a lot of them were what I would consider "common sense". Like "live below your means." Given the state of many Americans' finances, though, maybe these things aren't as common as I expected.

More interesting to me: I've been reading Wishcraft: How to Get What You Really Want, and so far that's been fun. I am being good and actually doing the exercises, and reminding myself of traits that I'd forgotten I had. All in the name of discovering my next career. I know that schoolteaching is preparing me for something, but I haven't yet figured out what it is. I also borrowed I could do anything if I only knew what it was, but then left it at Liz's for her to look at. Based on Wishcraft so far, I'm interested to switch with Liz next week.

Meanwhile, I've started reading a book on the Alexander Technique, which looks like it might somehow become part of my future once I figure out what my future is.

Finally, I'm hoping that The Epidemic will arrive for me via interlibrary loan in time for my Christmas vacation week. I saw the title listed in the Rivendell catalog and was intrigued. And then I bought a couple of fabulous wool shirts from them.

Magic Person is away for almost a month, giving me ample time for solitude and violin and dejunking and reading and figuring out what the heck I will be doing in my next life. Working on the negative space.

Last night I played for an Evensong service at K's church. The turnout was small, due to it being very snowy and the roads being very crappy, but the music was beautiful. And it's always a pleasure to play with/for K.

My part was an obligato for Rutter's "The Lord is My Shepherd", a very simple line, very repetitive, but the interesting thing is that the same motif was repeated in sections with very different tone and feeling. I just took the emotion from the choir parts and put it into the obligato. Afterwards, I received many compliments for my interpretation. "You played with such soul," one choir member said.

Soul is what my playing always lacked, not because I lacked feeling for the music, but because my technique was in the way of my emotion. The more emotional I got, the tighter I got, and then the more mechanical and restricted my playing became. The only way I could execute some difficult technical parts was to shut down my emotion and just knock them out like a robot. No more. New technique means that I can turn myself inside out playing the violin. Doing that is beautiful and scary and exhilarating all at once, and I'm so, so thankful to MS for giving me (or making me give myself) that gift.

Emergency Beef Stew

You will need:

2 friends
3 pairs of cross-country skis
1 groomed golf course (yay Portland!)
1 pressure cooker
6 medium-sized Yukon Gold potatoes
4 large carrots
4+ stalks celery
1 pound frozen beef stew meat from Common Ground Fair
juice from 1 28-oz. can of stewed tomatoes
olive oil (2 Tbsp?)
butter (2 Tbsp?)
white wine (½ cup or so)
1 onion
6+ cloves garlic
sea salt
pepper
thyme
rosemary

Procedure:
- Go skiing with 2 friends on beautifully quiet, groomed trails until dusk.
- Go to Goodwill to buy soft wool sweaters to cut up into things like gloves, balaclavas, and arm warmers.
- Dash home to meet 3rd friend.
- 2 of 3 friends are now very hungry.
- serve apples.
- Run hot water in sink and toss stew meat (in plastic bag) in there to thaw.
- With help of the friend who is the most hungry, slice onion, chop garlic, carrots, celery and potatoes.
- Throw all chopped items except garlic, onion, and beef into pressure cooker.
- Thank goodness the meat is thawed (and already cut up)! Heat some oil and butter in a skillet and sear meat on all sides. Do in a couple of batches. Add beef to cooker.
- Deglaze pan with some white wine. Deglaze eyes of hungry friend with white wine. Now we're cooking!
- Saute onions and garlic until they look cooked enough and you are tired of doing it. Throw them in the cooker.
- Add herbs, salt, pepper. Crush rosemary if you don't want to keep picking it out of your teeth.
- Pour in tomato juice and some more wine.
- Follow cooker instructions (15 minutes for mine). Let the pressure come off slowly (or until you are really hungry and must run the lid under cold water...)
- Serve. Smiles.

Yesterday I spent 15 minutes (when I could have been eating dinner between lessons) recording the obligato part to Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star for one of my students. I often play that part while a student plays the Twinkle theme. It's been hard to get this student to practice and as a result I've been wondering whether I should keep her, and certainly wondering whether I should be spending dinner time recording an MP3 for her. But I did. And e-mailed it to her.

Tonight after my last lesson I went downtown to get some groceries and stopped by her house to drop off something that had been left behind after her lesson. She met me at the door and asked me to come in for a minute because she couldn't figure out this one note in the piece. I'm not sure whether the rest of the family was out or asleep, but there was something so fun about this little girl standing in the kitchen trying to work out the notes to the Twinkle obligato. It's a little beyond her reach technique-wise, but I gave her a couple of hints and could tell that the next time I see her (after the holidays) I bet she'll know it cold. I don't think teaching gets any better than that.

My car (a.k.a. Maurice Cavalier, or The Silver Hornet, or The Super Sunny Sky Mobile) needs some TLC before it will pass inspection, said the automotive instructor at school. Dang. Howevah, his class will be happy to do the work. And he agreed (with some amount of disbelief) that, while they were doing the work, they would also paint flames on it. Fabulous! What could be better than an '89 Chevy sedan with flames? All in the name of education.

Today A. and I drove up to the camp with my parents for some cross-country skiing and (for me) a chance to locate the hand-crank ice cream maker so I can use it for my birthday party. The ski into the camp was a little more exciting than in past years, since there's a lot more plowing and sanding on some of the camp roads around there. Getting one ski caught on sand is not so much fun. We had a good ski, though, and some walking, and then sat around in the warm kitchen having a picnic. We skied back out at dusk, the ice cream maker on my back in one of my big dry bags--turns out those backpack straps on the dry bags have really come in handy! A. and I still had time to go back to my place, make beef stew in the pressure cooker for the second time (just as successful as the first time), and head back up Route 26 for a few miles to join in a big Portland Permaculture solstice potluck and bonfire. Yay!

I've been trying to unwind from all of this crazy fun, but keep getting distracted by my idea for birthday shenanigans: to shovel off my deck, bolt the ice cream maker to it, put my old touring bike out here, and somehow hook it up so that we can take turns making ice cream using pedal power! Yes! Still have a few weeks to sort out how to do that, since I'm delaying the birthday party until Magic Person is back from his long trip.

Favorite pedal power resources so far:

Pedal Power - A How-To Guide from Humboldt University
This idea of converting a magnetic trainer sounds very easy
Pedal Power in work, leisure and transportation from Rodale Press (just requested this via interlibrary loan, though it may not arrive until too late. I just received The Epidemic today).

Must. go. to. sleep. Argh. Too many projects on the brain, as usual. The permie potluck answered lots of my questions (hoop house reengineering, sheet mulching asparagus...) Permaculture events are dangerous, because hanging out with a group of people who love projects as much as I do...well, it's just dangerous.

Why did I never think to crack nuts with my vise grip pliers? I just thought of it tonight and it's so much easier and safer than a nutcracker.

Liz has been busy putting together a video of the TML holiday party at North Star!