Genesis -- The Lady Lies

The lyrics to this song remind me of a situation I've been discussing with a friend.  Pray for the parties involved.

Musically speaking, this is a terrific song with some pretty amazing progressions. Hard to believe it's from 1978.

The man steps out in the moonlight

At the sound of a scream from below.

He thinks he is a warrior

So he picks up his sword and goes.

From the mouth of the monster

He rescues the maiden fair.

But we know she's a demon

Come to lure him to demon's lair.

Through restless foliage and tall trees he leads

To a house in a clearing, a place in her fear she calls home.

"Come with me, I need you,

I fear the dark and I live all alone.

I'll give you wine and food too

And something special after if you like."

And though his body bids him

To enter in with her,

There was something in her manner

That his mind could not ignore.

Also it is whispered

In the kingdom far and wide,

To beware a little cottage

In the forest in a glade.

For who knows what magic takes place in his world?

So he just thanks her kindly preparing to go on his way.

"Come with me, I need you,

I fear the dark and I live all alone.

I'll give you wine and food too

And something special after if you like.

Come to my garden,

Taste the fruits and the spices of love.

You can't resist me,

I'm the kind that your dreams tell you of."

"So glad you could make it

We had everything arranged.

So glad you saw fit to pay a call."

Some men never listen,

And others never learn,

But why this man did as he did

Only he will ever know.

He knew he was walking

Into a waiting trap,

Neatly set up for him

With a bait so richly wrapped.

So he went inside there to take on what he found

But he never escaped them, for who can escape what he desires?

"Come with me, I need you,

I fear the dark and I live all alone.

I'll give you wine and food too

And something special after if you like."

Workshops, driving, gardens, and near-death experiences

Last week, Eldest Daughter attended a writing workshop in Eastern Pennsylvania.  Because of situations and circumstances, it became clear that I would drive her there, and the other children would come along too.  I was filled with trepidation because I tend to get quite tired while driving, three hours being pretty much the max I'd ever attempt, and I'd be doing the drive unaided.  All eight hours of it.

There was no use fretting since worrying would change nothing, and we set out Friday morning.  The drive was fairly uneventful, save for beautiful scenery and an unexpected early trip into Pennsylvania because I didn't print out the directions that I really wanted.

We arrived at the hotel and after settling in, decided that we desperately needed pizza from Anthony's Coal Fired Pizza.  We'd eaten at this chain in Pittsburgh, and it was truly the best I'd had in my life, albeit a little charred (as advertised.)  We finally found the restaurant in Wilmington, Delaware, no thanks to Apple's SIRI, and headed back to the hotel.  What a disappointment; it wasn't anything like Pittsburgh's Food of the Gods. But at least the salad was good. And we got to see a Tesla Roadster on the way.

Next morning we delivered Nervous Eldest Daughter to the workshop and the rest of us set off for Longwood Gardens. I figured any property that was over 1000 acres would keep us busy for a while.  Even though I'd seen pictures online, I wasn't prepared for the beauty of it all.  Youngest Son (nine years old) even asked how he could get a job there, and we were planning the next visit almost as soon as we arrived.  The place was so serene and peaceful, but probably only because it was still morning.  We found out later that evening is when the place starts looking like a city, because that's when lights illuminate everything, various shows (water and lights) are scheduled, and musical concerts take place.

The biggest surprise at Longwood Gardens is that it houses the world's largest home pipe organ which is used for a famous concert series, and there's also a pipe organ museum inside the conservatory.  What a coincidence!  Unfortunately, maintenance was being performed that day, so we didn't get to hear it. Sad face.

After retrieving Elated Eldest Daughter from the workshop, we attended Mass then returned to the gardens because I couldn't imagine her not seeing this place.  Aching feet and legs, and sheer exhaustion led us to leave earlier than we wanted, but c'est la vie.

Tree House.  One of the many ways to keep the kiddos entertained.

A note about the church where we attended Mass; the exterior looked like a ski lodge:

Or does it look like the West Virginia Welcome Center?

You be the judge.

I planned to return home by a different route that I thought would prove more scenic than the Pennsylvania Toll Road.  And in my naiveté I thought that Sunday morning traffic around the Baltimore beltway would be fairly light because, ya know, it's Sunday morning.

I was wrong.

The traffic was nearly nightmarish, not only being very busy but at high rates of speed. When we got the heck out of there, I figured we could stop in another city in Maryland for lunch, since I think we all agreed that the salami in the cooler was gross.  Unfortunately, lunch traffic there was out of control, so I reluctantly returned to the highway.

Things are a little sparse in those parts, so I drove for a while longer, and the time got later and later, but the kids weren't complaining about starving.  Mary, however, does not operate well when she lacks food, so I kept looking.  SIRI informed us there was a place to eat in a tiny town coming up.  I found the place; no one was parked there, and it just didn't "feel right."  Back on the highway.

Morgantown, West Virginia.  Middle of the afternoon. I see the sign for a Bob Evans.  We pull off, and sign informs us it's .6 miles away.  Over a mile later, it's clear that there's no Bob Evans and I realize it must have been at the shopping center at the exit.  I turn around, and...

What's that sound?

It's a disturbing racket coming from the front of the car on the right side.  I decide that I'm going to drive to the shopping center, and then will deal with it there.  No one is honking at me because something looks disturbing, and the car isn't driving like there's a flat tire.  We still hear the sound as we drive to the shopping center and we find the Bob Evans.  I believe the car is unsafe to drive, and send the kids inside to get something to eat while I call AAA.  (I would like the gentle reader to be assured that I've switched to present tense on purpose.)

After failing in my attempt to find a rental van, the tow truck shows up to inspect the crippled vehicle.  He drives it around the lot, parks, and tells me that a garage is going to charge me a whole lot of money to diagnose the problem, because this, this, and this could be a problem, but none of those things would make the car unsafe to drive.  However, before he leaves, he's going to check the lug nuts.  As he said that, Eldest Son (who'd finished eating and had come outside) and I looked down and noticed that a few of the lug nuts were positioned further out than the others.

As the tow truck driver guardian angel went to take the right front tire off, he wiggled it first.  THAT WAS THE SOUND.  Three of the lug nuts were loose, so the tire was rather floppy.  He cleaned up some dirt on the inside of the wheel, and repositioned the tire. He checked the other tires.  Four loose.  Two loose. Three loose. He tightened everything up, and we were on our way.

Thank God we'd not found a place to eat earlier; if we had, we would have been on the road as the wheel got looser and looser.  And I may not have heard the sound it was making, as we traveled at speeds up to 80 mph.  On mountain roads.  In heavy traffic.

This week I returned to the shop where the tires had been rotated earlier this month.  I told them what happened.  They were extremely apologetic, of course, and agreed to my demand of removing all charges for the "work."  The vehicle should be inspected for damage that may have occurred as a result of their negligence, but I haven't had time to do it yet.

We're just glad to be alive, because it could've turned out differently.

And there's much more that's happened this week, perhaps better left for another blog post.

Meanwhile, we're still planning the next trip to Longwood Gardens.

Brain Dump v.1

*deleted*

....and life goes on.

Those of you who know me in "real life" are aware that I enjoy certain automobiles.  OK -- the truth is that I'm a car nut.  Some of my children share my appreciation for the loud beasts that boast hundreds of horsepower, and to that end, we scheduled a trip to the Corvette Museum in Kentucky for another  look-see.

Most of you who read this blog are also aware that my father-in-law has been seriously ill for the last year, and I know that you've prayed fervently for our intentions and for his bodily healing.  Things were going very well for him until about the last six weeks.

When we realized things had taken a turn for the worse, we canceled our trip to the museum and instead went to my in-laws' house.  From there, some of the kids and I made a couple of day-trips to Pittsburgh while my husband stayed at home with his parents, just visiting and performing necessarily-neglected maintenance around the house.

One of our stops in Pittsburgh was St. Anthony's Chapel in the Troy Hill district, which boasts the largest collection of relics outside the Vatican.  We prayed in the presence of the Saints for the physical and spiritual healing of our loved ones.  Afterwards, we visited the Strip District and attended Mass at St. Stanislaus Kostka church.  (I won't do a Mass review, but will summarize charitably by saying that the church is terrific for picture-taking.)

Through the weekend, my father-in-law was feeling ill, but managed to chat and joke around with us, demand pictures of the churches in Pittsburgh, and enjoy the kids playing the Wii.

We left the house on Sunday afternoon after the usual lengthy good-byes, see-you-next-times, and love-yous.  I hugged my father-in-law, who was sitting in his bed, and held his head against my shoulder.  I felt his thin frame and wondered how he had the strength to hug me so tight.

My mother-in-law called very early the next morning and said that he was was having difficulty breathing and couldn't be awakened.  Although he was conscious later when my husband got there, he was barely able to communicate.  He died a few hours later after receiving the last rites of the Church.

My father-in-law was a very fine and good man and a true gentleman.  He was a man of honor who worked hard, loved his family and made many sacrifices in life for their good.  (He even drove to work two hours EACH WAY for six years so that he could provide for his family.)  He was smart, very funny, and could strike up an interesting conversation with anyone.

Although I'd like to wax poetic about the glories of heaven and the eternal reward of those who die in a state of grace, the truth is that his passing hurts like hell and we miss him terribly.

Requiescat in pace, Dad.

Mass Review #6

The family went to visit the in-laws this past weekend, and because of circumstances we would not be attending our usual Maronite parish. Instead we would be attending the parish of my husband's youth, and where his parents still attend.  I really like these non-typical chandeliers.

The old confessionals are still in place and are actually used.

The church is quite large and very beautiful. Large marble columns line both sides of the church, and the original gorgeous high altar still stands, as does the marble altar rail with stone inlay. Some very questionable remodeling and repainting has be done, but could be easily fixed.

Old tabernacles still lay underneath the Blessed Virgin and St. Joseph at their respective side altars.

More photos of the Communion rail:

There's really just one problem with this church:

The music.

There is no organ in this church, even though some pipes from what was surely a glorious instrument lay wasting in the back.  But there *is* an electronic keyboard! Yippee!

(At this time I must confess that this is one of the very few churches where I had to STOP myself from walking out during Mass, due to the carelessness of the former priest, and the horrible awful terrible music.)

Before Mass, our ears were assaulted with a keyboard (!with underlying string sounds!) playing a medley of Glory and Praise tunes.  I didn't realize that he was just warming up for the big show.

Indeed, we got to hear those same songs through the Mass, except at an obscene volume.  Additionally, he served as cantor and "song leader".  He was SO LOUD that I think I heard some hearing aids howling with feedback.  I whispered to Oldest Daughter that if I had a gun I'd shoot out the speakers, may God forgive me. The worst part of it all is that he seems to have *no clue* how to choose music for Mass, as evidenced by his selection for Communion.

However, this parish got a new priest about two years ago.  He is a very holy young man who not only performs the liturgy by the books, but also is an excellent homilist.  In fact, he chanted nearly every part of the Mass (except the Our Father), including the Kyrie Eleison in Greek. Now maybe you'll yawn at that, but this is almost unheard of in our diocese. My family loves him as I'm sure do all the parishioners.  What's not to love? I just wish they had the music that they (and the church) deserve and are entitled to.

I suppose the priest's gentle manner is what prevents him from trying to replace the music guy.

In summary, the Mass sans music gets 10/10 stars, and the music gets -10/10 stars.

Oh -- I almost forgot to tell you about the Communion Song: "Suddenly There's a Valley"

When you've climbed the highest mountain
When a cloud holds the sunshine in
Suddenly there's a valley
Where the earth knows peace with man

When a storm hides the distant rainbow
And you think you can't find a friend
Suddenly there's a valley
Where friendships never end

Touched only by the seasons
Swept clean by the waving grain
Surveyed by a happy bluebird
And kissed by the falling rain

When you think there's no bright tomorrow
And you feel you can't try again
Suddenly there's a valley
Where hope and love begin

Suddenly there's a valley
Where hope and love begin

Mass Review #5

Playing for a Saturday evening wedding meant I had no other option than to attend the noon Mass at a very large church in a nearby city.  Worse things could happen, though, because visiting this house of God named after the BVM is always a visual treat. I've been here a number of times and usually enjoy my time with the Lord very much. The organist is very good, and the musical selections are almost always excellent.

So when Mass started, I was surprised to see that the celebrant was an unfamiliar face. Although elderly, he chanted parts of the Mass in a beautiful, clear voice with just the right amount of vibrato.  Lovely!  His sermon, all twenty-five minutes of it (!), was very enjoyable and full of clear Catholic teaching.  How refreshing and wonderful! Just to clarify, though, the regular priests at this church always perform the liturgy with great care.

Although the church has a very good reputation for its music, the cantor was less than adequate.  Even disregarding her very bizarre pronunciation, her pitch was not accurate, shall we say.  It was really a shame, and it was the first time I'd encountered this problem at the church.  Their cantors would sound even better if they'd ditch the microphones.  For the uninformed, microphones are usually highly detrimental for a vocalist's sound.

Pickiness aside, I really enjoyed my time at this Mass.

Why Musicians Hate Weddings Part 2

A few weeks ago, I got a call to play for a wedding that would be held in a whopping 10 days. I actually like this kind of call, because the bride/groom realize that at this late time, the choice of music is pretty much my own.  And, they have to pay whatever I ask. (There's not exactly a proliferation of organists in the area, and that church's regular organist was planning to be out of town that day.)

I quoted my normal price, however, just because I'm nice that way.  Additionally, I agreed to accompany a soloist for the Schubert "Ave Maria" at no extra charge as long as she came to practice well before the ceremony was to begin.

On the day of the wedding, the soloist eventually showed up (late), and announced that she'd brought a tape recording of the Ave Maria to accompany her, "but it'll probably sound better with organ, right?" she asked.  I agreed that yes, in fact it would sound better with organ.  I asked if she had music with her (I'd brought an extra copy *just in case*) or if she had it memorized, and she stated that she'd sung it "probably 400 times".

She did in fact have it memorized, and her voice was decent though untrained.  However, there really is no good way to make "Aaaaave Mareeeeeeee" *BIG BREATH HERE* "eeeeeeeheeeuh" sound good.

Oh, and a nota bene for all the gals out there who might someday be a bride, or a bridesmaid, or who may wear a tank top, or......whatever; please don't ruin yours or anyone else's bridal photos.

PLEASE EXERCISE GOOD JUDGMENT AND TASTE WHEN OBTAINING TATOOS.