Beethoven and Bell

We recently attended a concert with the local talent Joshua Bell accompanied by the Cincinnati orchestra.  It was a gorgeous concert, performed to a packed audience in the big hall.  He played Beethoven's violin concerto.  You can listen to him playing it at another concert here if you feel like hearing the pure genius of both Beethoven and Mr. Bell.  After the concert I received a little lecture from the one dearest and nearest to me.  He tells me Beethoven was so clever, he would incorporate the musical forms of the past and current while innovating far beyond his time.  So much so that people attending debuts of his work couldn't understand what he was trying to do and would give him poor reviews.  This concerto, for example, is far longer than the standard concerto of the time.  The second movement is another from my dad's mixed tape that I've mentioned before - the one we used to listen to on long car journeys.  It was funny that it was so very familiar to me while I didn't really know the first movement at all.  

Mr. Bell is considered local talent here.  He's on the violin teaching faculty, and we know a local who used to babysit him when he was a boy.  Jbird and I recently saw a documentary about an earlier owner of Mr. Bell's violin, Bronislaw Humberman.  The documentary mentions it's disappearing act and subsequent 50 year loss from the green room at Carnegie Hall.  Read here for the full story. 

Feeling more at home

This is a bit of a strange post as it's sports related.  If you know me well, you might know that the only team sport I ever played was softball when I was nine.  I found it so awful, I couldn't wait for the season to finish.  Oh, and I played one game of netball as an adult.  I thought I was going to die the girls on the other team were so rough and I had no idea what I was doing. 

This passed Sunday was Super Bowl Sunday.  We went to the same international students event we went to last year which is great for having a great big screen, helping to explain the rules, and providing plenty of Super Bowl type snacks.  I really over did it on the chips this year.  They are my weakness.  

Over four years living here, I have learned that Super Bowl is a National event similar to Christmas or New Years.  The food is important, the event you attend is important, the team you are rooting for is important.  Or it's important that you pick a team.  This can be tough as the teams are linked to cities so if your city is not represented, you have to grab at tenuous links.  Like my friend who comes from Southern California.  He was rooting for the Baltimore Ravens this year because there is a rivalry between San Fransisco and Southern California.  Rather than rooting for his rival, he chose to root for an East Coast team.  That is a far less tenuous link than my other friend who was rooting for Baltimore because the two coaches for the two teams this year are brothers* and he wanted the younger brother (Baltimore coach) to win.  The important thing is that they were rooting for the right time. 

You must know by now that Jbird and I lived in Baltimore for two years so of course we were rooting for the Ravens on Sunday night.  And what a game it was.  The Ravens were winning by a huge deficit of over 20 points by the end of the first half.  They came back after the break with a really exciting play where one of the guys conquered most of the field and got a touch down in one run.  Then there was a 30 minute power cut (!) after which the San Fran 49ers came back from the deficit and nearly overtook Baltimore!  NEARLY.  Baltimore won.  After four years, I can nearly follow all of the rules (or most of them), except that at the end I had to ask can I be happy now? I wasn't sure whether play could be extended beyond the hour.  With all those time outs, it can be really confusing.  It was an exciting, close ending too, 34-31.  

Now that I have had a not so tenuous link to a Super Bowl final (and winning) team, I somehow feel more linked to America, a nice feeling to own.

*What's neat is their brother-in-law is the Indiana University basketball coach and he was at the Superbowl game cheering his brother-in-laws on, in the family box.  What a family of coaches!  What a box to sit in!  By the by, the IU basketball team - the Hoosiers - won their game on Saturday night against the Michigan Wolverines putting them at Number One.  The Wolverines are my sister-in-law's team and by default my brother's team.  Except we don't really care or follow the sport.  Except we do kind of care...

On the bright side of things

I woke up the day after that last post not exactly feeling better or more optimistic.  Mornings are a little bit hard for me since I've lost the sense of urgency I had not so long ago.  In a way it's nice, like being on holiday, but I guess I'm so used to urgency that I don't know how to let go of it and I miss it.  While I thought about getting out of bed, I read a blog about anticipation vs. anxiety and I came to realise how important anticipation is to me.  My last post was written at a time when I wasn't anticipating our future, instead I was dwelling on an overwhelming feeling of anxiety.  I placed the blame on our situation.  The thing is, those stresses on our life that cause me to feel anxious don't go away.  We've lived with basically the same ones since we were married - mostly financial, if you couldn't guess.  But we've carried on and survived and we're sure to continue to survive.  What's more, we both think we have everything we need.  It's not anxiety that keeps me here.  Rather, anticipation is what gets me up in the morning and keeps me moving.  Right now there is so much to anticipate.  I am determined to hold onto that while I live what can sometimes feel like humdrum daily life on a steep uphill slope.  Anxiety will only stop me in my tracks, leaving me miserable.

Accent-a-licious

I met the new kiwi at the music school.  He's from Wellington and his accent is heavenly.  Which is a silly thing for me to say because everybody I meet says to me: I just love your accent.  Literally everyone.  Just yesterday I spent half an hour listening to someone go on and on about the British accent, as she had decided mine was British.  And that I must be Australian.   These days I nod and smile.  I used to tell them I loved their accent too.  But they mostly didn't get it: after all, they don't have an accent.  I digress.  

His accent was heavenly and it actually made me homesick. Talking to people in NZ on skype no longer does this to me.  I'm used to being away from them, and they just sound like them, not like a Kiwi.  His was not a familiar voice but an ordinary voice.  I wanted to pack it up in box only to be opened on special occasions but the technology is not yet available and I suppose he has use for his voice. 

I didn't make a particularly good impression on the Kiwi, we barely talked.  I'll have to try again another time.  Maybe I'll get the chance to win him over with my Shepherd's Pie one day.  It should be a good one: the potatoes and beef grown here are supposed to be the best in the world.

User Pays

This is the only NZ replay I have been able to find from the Olympics.  The only one.  Just in case you don't bother to check it, it's an iphone video of a t.v. screen of NZ winning a gold in rowing.  I viewed exactly 6 minutes of the opening ceremony.  The US and NZ has cut me off.  And I feel mad about it.  NBC has the rights.  I don't have a t.v. and won't subscribe to NBC online.    Even if I chose to pay to watch it here, it would all be US centric.  I'm not that interested in the US's kabillion medals.  Or listening to them pat themselves on the backs. 

No NZ site will allow me to view olympic replays.  I don't really know who they're trying to protect and with our increased global worldliness, I'm not used to being left in the dark.  I read the NZ paper each morning and have mostly  been able to follow how we're doing, but it's getting harder to keep up.  And I want the darn replay!

I happen to be proud of my little country claiming victories.  What's the point of the Olympics anyway, except to promote nationalistic pride? And if I am feeling frustrated, I'm less likely to try to 'participate'.  I'm more likely to start cutting the ties.  

And that's my rant.  Mostly.

Who doesn't love free stuff?

Jbird and I certainly do.  On a Sweet Free Stuff note, we have been going into Bluboy Chocolate Cafe and Cakery to get their free mystery cupcake.  I think they're trying to get people into their store over summer while town is quiet.  Unfortunately, we eat the cupcake and leave without making a purchase.  However, I'm sure we'll talk about their cupcakes to others so in a sense they're at least getting free advertising.  They advertise the mystery cupcake on a social network site* which Jbird is signed up to. If you go in and know it's name and there are any left, you become a lucky recipient of a free cupcake.  Today's was Thai Tiger.  Chocolate cake base with Thai green tea buttercream frosting and dark chocolate dribbles.  It was a decadent reason to get out of the house and go on a midday date with my man.

Today cupcake reminded us of Godiva's monthly free chocolate - there was a Godiva in Baltimore but none here.  It seems like such a small gift but I enjoyed mine every month and enjoyed their fancy seasonal creations.  If you're near a Godiva, I suggest you pop in and find out if you can sign up.

*I won't name names, I've advertised them enough recently for someone who is supposedly not an advocate.  Obviously in this case, I have to bite my tongue and take the free stuff advertised.

236 Years Later

It's my first Independence Day in America and we're going to a cook-out at our friends' tonight to celebrate.  We're having ribs.  Yum.  Remember that scene in the opening song of the Flintstones where Fred gets (dinosaur) ribs at the drive-thru and their car topples over?  Well, they won't be that big but they'll be close.  Thank you America: for knowing meat.  I'm taking Strawberry Shortcake as it feels like such a summery, picnic-type dessert.  

Unfortunately the weather has been so dry that people are being strongly advised not to use fireworks - the words fire ban have been thrown around.  The grass has turned to hay so I'm not surprised.  I hear the fireworks people are suing - I'm not exactly sure who - and only the State can make the fire ban a law, which they haven't yet. 

Slightly shady neighbourhood

There was a shooting at our pool last week. That is, the pool here, at our apartment complex.  I was told someone accidentally shot their hand while cleaning their gun but the article says otherwise.  It sounds like a case of someone looked at someone else wrong.  I grew up in Avondale and lived in Baltimore so perhaps I'll be alright.

While gossiping about the incident with our maintenance man, I learned that anyone can own a gun here.  As long as they have had no criminal convictions, they're able to get a licence.  I'm not super thrilled to hear that.  Do law makers not realise what guns do?  The recent shooting of Trayvon Martin comes to mind, as well as a host of other incidents.  Not that there aren't guns in New Zealand.  They're just not generally legal except on the farm or for hunting.  Here, I have a friend who keeps one under their bed for self defence. 

This incident doesn't really affect me.  I will still swim, I don't feel closely related to the incident or nervous in anyway.  To end on a good note, I finally found a local newspaper online that doesn't charge me to read it while searching for information. 

I'm not normally so politically minded in this space.  Please feel free to tell me how it really is. 

An afternoon at the pool

I spent an afternoon at the pool with the munchkins yesterday.  Their parents had been offered an afternoon on the lake and they couldn't turn it down in this drought weather so I was on duty.  It was pretty fun, watching the girls gain confidence with their swimming teachers.  And to have an excuse not to be reading or trying to write academic type literature.

I had a little I'm in America moment while I was there.  All the life guards were in matching red bikinis and swim shorts.  The baby swim class sang "If you're happy and you know it" in American accents with American lyrics.  Only slightly different from our own, but different all the same.  

Unfortunately, sun and water makes for tired little girls and there were a few tears over dinner. 

Manky side burns and baggy sweaters

I recently went to The Five Year Engagement with Jbird.  It was nice of him to come along to a chick flick with me.  A friend of ours from our youth orchestra days in NZ is in a photo in the movie and it made me want to see it. 

If you don't know the plot, I don't want to spoil it for you, but it felt like it spoke to us both on some complex levels.  Yes, there are levels to this chick flick.  It was set in San Francisco and Michigan.  I love seeing different places in the States in movies since moving here.  This is such a diverse country, and I've often met someone from there and can then relate further to why they are the way they are.  

The main theme was the big question of the limits of compromising 'life' for your partner.  I'm ashamed to admit that I often fight poorly with Jbird, telling him I just want to go home, or life would be better if we weren't here.  I don't know if I've used it in a fight, but I have definitely thought I'm here because of you, the stakes are high, you can do better than you are doing and I feel mad.  It feels horrid, so vulnerable, to put it into words here.  The movie helped me with this.  It showed me that I have compromised, sure, but I have managed to become myself again, somewhere that I didn't choose.  If we had moved somewhere more elegant or convenient, I am sure I would have hit the same struggles that I have here and I had in Baltimore.  

I often say that these years are precious years for us, but they often just feel humdrum, boring, and uncomfortable.  If I were at home, I'd be teaching, or have a baby, and probably be feeling those same humdrum, boring feelings.  But I don't think I'd have learnt so much about Jbird or myself in the process.  I definitely wouldn't cook the food I cook, or bike everywhere I go.  I probably wouldn't know how to crochet or knit.  And I doubt I'd have started a blog or decided to finish this Masters. 

Do you want to know what Jbird says when I tell him I want to go home?  He tells me Well, let's talk about that.  Maybe that's the right thing to do.  Every time, I swear it.  It makes me kind of teary to think about.  By saying this he lets me know that even though it doesn't always feel like it, him and I are in this together, and we will get out of it together.  Lovely hubby o' mine.

The movie made me laugh, it made me cry, AND there are two great wedding scenes. People, even Jbird wanted to cry but manned up and didn't let it out.  A must-see.

Letting nature take its toll

Before planting this garden, we had noticed that although Bloomington has a pretty hefty deer infestation, we have never seen any around our apartment complex.  This led me to believe my wee patch would be predator-free.  It isn't.  Predators have come in all shapes and sizes.

I've been dealing with a little fungi problem which has turned leaves on several types of plants yellow, some of them with black spots.  Something loved my watermelon plants and they didn't survive past the mature-seedling phase.  Small seedlings that were happily growing have disappeared over-night, the thief leaving behind no trace of their own or the plants' existence.  A few peas have been tasted, tell-tale teeth marks in their no-longer perfect flesh.  My rose 'bush' managed to bloom just three flowers before something decided to strip it of its leaves.  Every strawberry I have ever grown here has been chewed before it was ripe.  The most alarming sign of these little visitors are the holes left by chipmunks.  It turns out that they eat roots.  And bulbs.  In the early stages of spring, I used to bound out of bed, throw on some clothes and excitedly survey new growth.  Now, I slink out and survey the damage.   

After heeding my kind mother's words to buy some netting for the strawberries, peas, broccoli, and carrots, I began to peruse the interweb in search of chipmunk solutions and found two pretty reasonable ideas.  The first is to put together a Chipper Dipper.  It's essentially a bucket with some water and sunflower seeds floating on the water.  Can you guess how it works?  The chipmunk reaches down to get to the sunflower seeds and falls in the water where he either drowns, dies of a heart attack, or is relocated gracefully by Farmer Brown (that's me).  The reviews for this idea are generally raves: "I killed 14 already" etc.  The other solution is known as Lawn Mole Formula.  I whipped a tablespoon of castor oil, another of dishwashing liquid, and six of water into a shaving cream consistency.  I added a tablespoon of this formula to each litre (half gallon) of water and poured it over the soil around my plants.  I then watered again to soak it into the soil.  It is supposed to deter burrows from burrowing but it seemed so diluted, I'm fairly sceptical that it will work. 

What do you think?  Am I onto something here, or am I chasing rainbows?

A Complicated Application

One of my jobs as the wife in this family is to apply each year for the diversity visa.  This visa is provided to ensure the US is accepting a diverse new residents.  Countries such as Bangladesh, the UK, Canada, and Korea are not offered this visa as they have been assigned a large number of greencards already.  

The process involves US government officials pulling names out of a hat and granting greencards to who are pulled.  I make it sound so easy but there are many hurdles along the way.  

The first hurdle is to read and understand their website to work out the application procedure.  Official websites are not always very user friendly, it took me a good week to work out that even though they give very lengthy, repetitious instructions, all they were looking for was a square photo with no shadows, glare, or smile.  

The second hurdle is to apply at the right time.  The application is only open for the month of October each year and we were too late to apply in 2009.  

The third hurdle is to provide the aforementioned appropriate photo.  This can take some dedication but I've done it twice now and even do it for other New Zealanders, so that this is not a hurdle for them too.  

The actual application involves merely uploading said photo and knowing your birth date and full name.  

The fourth hurdle is to be able to receive the notification of the result.  Mail, we were informed, was the only way we would be contacted.  We applied in 2010 but we moved states during the month we might have heard so we weren't 100% that our names hadn't been pulled. 

For some reason I decided to check the website yesterday and found that there was a function where we could check our status for that first, mysterious application we had made!  This was a delightful thing to come across as it was the last day it would be available because today the new 'winners' will start being announced.

The last hurdle is to save your confirmation number.  My heart missed a beat when I couldn't find ours saved in gmail but they'd been squirreled away into My Documents in a most unorderly manner, without even a folder to call their own. 

Don't get your hopes up, we didn't win that lottery, but it was neat to confirm this, instead of just always wondering.  Results are announced during May and June so there's barely a wait before we'll know whether we win it this year!