Well, I’ve been rather neglectful in regard to this blog. I put all of my focus in my teaching and directing this summer.
With this being the first of September, the start of the academic year (which has a much greater impact on me than New Year’s Day), I wanted to post a little something to get the rhythm going again.
I’m an interesting mix of being a routine girl and a project girl. The projects are the various piano camps that I run 24/7 when they occur. Many people worry that I’ll suffer from burnout during these camps when they see me in action. What they don’t realize is that I’m programmed for either the 10 day adult camps or the several weeks of kiddie piano camp. I’ve done it almost all my life and know nothing different. In fact, my own boys have a jump on me in that I was 10 when piano camp was “invented” as my parents were improvising on how to mesh their family and a bunch of eager pianists (at this time, only kiddie piano camp). My boys were born into the program. In fact, my first born, Taylor, arrived a month early on the first day of the Spring Sonata camp, much to my surprise and “now, what do I do?!” That’s another story I’ll share some day.
The routine side of me is my need to exercise and keep it consistent. It keeps me centered and trim(mer). I went 8 weeks this summer without exercise due to a hip flexor injury (from too much sitting and not enough stretching) and gained some poundage again. It’s time to pare down the fat again as I don’t like how my body shifts to and fro.
I’d like to add blogging to my routines so that I don’t have higher expectations of myself in regard to my writing abilities. I think a daily drill of a few words and pictures will be good for me rather than a big build up to the next distanced blog post. And, so it begins.
Lately, I’ve been reflecting a lot. I suppose that stems from noting that I’m about to enter into my 20th year of marriage to Dale Cobb (he’s my balance and balance he does well as someone who gives Thai massages). He tends towards being behind the scenes when it comes to the needs of piano camp (he doesn’t play…piano, that is) but when the house falls down with some kind of emergency, he’s right there at the ready. His little tiny house in the backyard is a little tiny haven for him, a miniature escape where he can also tend to the needs of our guests by offering them 2 hours of Thai massage bliss. The accolades he receives from everyone makes me swoon. Because, I know.
The other area of reflection is that I’m approaching my 54th birthday. Gasp! I know we all hear over and over again about how fast the years fly by, but, when your life is so full of amazing people, music, work, play, family, friends, pianos and pianos galore, it’s hard to believe that so much has captivated me to the point that I have no sense of time at all. Gosh, life is so grand and upright. Yes, Mom, your wordplay is the piano’s mano (my lame attempt at avoiding “bee’s knees” and using the Italian word for hand).
Today, I spent a pensive moment in the Reingarden, remembering my father, Rein. I’m not sure what drew me to this little corner of our property. Once I was there, I was at peace, staring at Dad’s beautifully bronzed hands which are folded in a moment of tranquility. I saw this: an offering of a little handshake for keeping the business rolling and quietly applauding all that has gone on here at 5 Catamount Lane.
Soon, I’ll be sharing some of the Summer Sonatina and the Summer Sonata stories that rocked the 2013 season.