My First Chair

Recently, one of the two matching leather armchairs in our living split right about where Dave's shoulder rests. As I dithered about what to do the split got bigger and more irreparable so they had to go.  Hannah felt sorry for me and gave me two chairs from her house; one was Dave's old oxblood leather chair and ottoman that I had made him get rid of in an earlier renovation.  He was so happy to have it back that I immediately regretted ever making him part with it.

This was the other chair she gave me:

Clearly, this is a mid-century modern chair that is in pretty rough shape, .not a chair designed for the 1930's English cottage we live in.  But this chair had one redeeming quality - it fit me!

I'm short and squat.  Buying furniture is torture for us because Dave is a foot taller than me.  When I try to sit on furniture that Dave is comfortable with, I can either reach the floor or the back of the seat, but never both.  If Dave tries to sit in a chair that fits me, he looks all scrunched up like Gulliver having tea with the Lilliputians.  We don't buy those chairs.

But this chair found me, fits me, loves me, wraps it's loving mid-century arms around me.  Now, how to fit it into the decor?

25 years ago, I slipcovered a beat up sofa and chair, so I thought I would give it another try.  At THE fabric store in Chilliwack, I found set of fabrics that would work in my livingroom for $16.00 a metre.  At the till they were $3.00 a metre! score!  Back home, I made a pattern, cut it out, sewed it together in one night - awesome!

By the light of day, I saw all my mistakes - it didn't fit around the shoulders, the seat was crooked blah, blah, blah.  But a week later, I finally had it all together and I am pretty excited that I get to sit in my pretty chair and touch the floor whenever I want to.  Wanna see it?

Mid-century modern lines are hidden under the deep skirt so it blends with the room.  It's the first time I've had my own chair.  Be happy for me!

Old Lady Feet

No kidding, I'm trying to deal with turning 60 and how it's not really a big deal, 60 is just a number, I'm a young 59, I have a future and a hope, right? right?

My feet have outed me.  I went for a walk in downtown Seattle in March and ended up with horrible pain in both legs for weeks.  Tried the meds - nothing.  Tried physio - bingo. Huge rangy cyclist mountain climber from NZ named Craig worked me over good.  Second visit Craig taped up my feet tight and said "try that!".  It was awesome.  So he sent me to the orthotics guy (Jeremy).  That's orthotics spelled "orth60tics".

No joke, I'm limping in to Jeremy's office wearing the only shoes I have that fit around all the tape, which of course look like orthopedic shoes.  He has an orthopedic student from the university, a sweet young thing in her 20s who seems to never have seen a foot before.  So he reads out my chart to her "Mrs. Shinness is 59, almost 60, with leg pain very typical for her age." Great start.  Then he gives her the tour of every corner of each of my feet top and bottom telling her all the things that are wrong due to stress and aging.  While it is interesting for me to hear all the details, all I can hear him say is "OLD LADY FEET, OLD LADY FEET, OLD LADY FEET, and right here we see MORE OLD LADY FEET".  AGHHHHH!!!!

Now it is weeks later, I have the pricey orthotic inserts in my shoes, I'm finished physio, and I can walk without pain.  I still have to find shoes that can hold these inserts that don't look like old lady shoes.  I did learn that feet problems are highly related to your family members' feet, and I put together that my mom's feet problems started right when she was my age.  She never followed up because she wanted to be young and not an old lady, but within a handful of years she lost her mobility.

Lesson learned.  I still have a future and a hope (I do, right?) but in that future, I'll be wearing orthotics!

21st century education - what is that?

End of May, Dave and I went to a symposium on 21st century Christian Education - preparing students for 2025.  Take a look at www.21stcenturyeducators.com for some reading links if you are at all curious.


People from many different countries and education streams gathered for 3 days of discussion in this great venue called the Morris J.Wosk Centre for Dialogue in downtown Vancouver - I felt like I was in the U.N.  I attend a lot of conferences each year, but I came away from this stunned and buzzed at the same time.  We met this gang of rabble rousers from the Sydney Center for Innovation in Learning that challenged almost everything we do in our regular everyday classrooms. Sir Ken Robinson has a Youtube (RSA Animate Changing Education Paradigms) with an animation that blew my mind - really, I will never look at a school the same way again.  The embedding of technology into every classroom was a big part of the discussion, but I came away with the conviction that what needs to change is the pedogagy, not just the technology. Your probable response is "whatever that means" and you're right, I still can't put it into words myself.


Now, I have heard some of these ideas presented here and there over the years.  I've seen kids get turned off education (I believe I turned off a few myself, actually) and felt quite powerless to reverse that.  I've seen my creative, artistic, intuitive son-in-law change his concept of himself because he was assigned to go to the "dumb" high school.  But these dudes in at the Sydney Center for Innovation in Australia are actually doing this 21st century stuff, at a small (well, not so small anymore) Christian school attached to a local church.  They have been at it for 8 years, taking chances, making mistakes, being relentless in their pursuit of innovation (which I think should be spelled inovation but I'm wrong) and they have 7th grade boys breathless to get to school in the morning.


Now I want to get me some of that.

My Friend Maria Shriver

I was reading today about the unraveling of the marriage of Maria Shriver and Arnold Schwarzenegger.   They separated several weeks ago shortly after Arnold finished being governor of California.  Now we know that at that time he told Maria that he had fathered a child with a worker in the family home 10 years previously who he has been supporting since birth.  This is after many years of complaints in the media of Arnold's sexual misbehaviours.  They have four children aged 13-21 who must be very aware of the implications of this situation and it's effect on the public.  In addition, both of Maria's parents have died in recent months.

I find myself grieving for this lady.  She comes from the Kennedy family on her mother's side, a family that has known such high degrees of fame and infamy, of influence both wholesome and unwholesome for America.  She gave up a career in broadcasting to serve and support her husband in his political endeavours, and has made her husband and children her focus in the last decade.  She has in short order lost her parents, her home, her marriage, and her good name.  She must now shepherd her children and her own wounded soul through these next stages in public and private.

One of my life values I learned from Maria Shriver. At a crucial moment in my life I heard her say that a woman can do everything, but she can't do it all at the same time.  Sometimes she has to let go of one thing that she cares for very deeply to be able to do the next thing that she cares for very deeply.  I took this to heart, and it has saved me from spreading myself too thin, or hanging on to something after it's time has past.  Thank you for your wisdom, Maria.

At the same time, I wonder how a strong, wise, powerful woman like Maria chose to commit herself to a man who obviously did not demonstrate a faithful spirit and lifestyle before she even met him.  Could she not find someone to match her personal and spiritual values?  Did she think this was the best she could do?  Did she think that she was strong enough to change him into what he should be?

I shake my head, but I grieve for her all the same.

5 Pants in 5 Weeks

ARGHHHH!  I can't sew anymore - what was I thinking?
My house is a mess.  There are stacks of things waiting to put away on every horizontal surface (except the grand piano, duh).  And there is dirt everywhere; real dirt, not pretend "oh, don't look at my house it's such a mess" dirt.  We ate out for 4 days until I finally bought groceries.  My bedding plants are still in their little plastic squares drying out.

Why? Because I'm sewing, yes I am.  I had forgotten how sewing takes over my whole life and I can't think of anything until the project is finished.  I almost forgot about Mother's Day and I'm the mother, for crying out loud.

And here's the best part.  My sewing now officially stinks. I've sewn 4 out of 5 pants so far.  I've altered the pattern 3 times and need to do it again.  Each time the pants fit wrong and I think I can fix it.  The last pair were close, but no cigar.  I've changed the leg 3 times and now need to create a facing, as hemming is no longer a possibility as I have hacked off any hope of a hem.  When I'm done the next pair, I need to go back and completely remake the first pair.

Sometime before I die there will be a picture on this blog of the 5 pairs of pants I made that fit me perfectly.  I swear.

5 Pants in 5 Days

As I am approaching my 60th birthday, one of the things I'm trying to do is decide what things in my life it's time to lay down, and what things in my life are worth investing in.  I can do a lot of things but I can't do them all at the same time, and if I try to keep doing everything I can't take on anything new, which I also want to do.

Sewing is one of those things I need to decide about.  I started sewing when I was in 5th grade, creating Barbie outfits by hand, using a pattern even.  I learned how to use a treadle sewing machine at my Auntie Viola's house, I took sewing lessons in the summer between Gr. 7 & 8 at the Singer store at Granville and 7th and made a navy blue wool double breasted coat dress lined with a suit collar, set in sleeves and a full lining - I still can't believe it.

After that, I made most of my own clothes until just a few years ago. I made clothes for Dave, sewed for all the kids, made my girls party dresses, Hannah's wedding dress, Sarah and Maria's bridesmaids dresses.  But in the last few years, I'm sewing less and less - stylish clothes are less expensive and available in a greater range of sizes, and I've been working full time and travelling to see my kids every chance I get.  Then what happens is that I'll try to sew something for myself and it ends up unwearable - ARGH!

Do you remember the movie Julie and Julia?  For 365 days, Julie blogged as she cooked her way through Julia Child's encyclopaedic French cookbook, one recipe a day.  I'm not gonna do that.  BUT I am going to make a pair of pants every day for 5 days this week with a pattern I made myself.

Oh, yeah I just said that.  In fact, I just finished the first pair - light grey linen.  It took me forever, I put the zipper in 3 times and I put the yoke on backwards.  They're OK, but a little big.  I just finished altering the pattern, I bought 4 other fabrics, organized my sewing room and I'm ready to roll.  This week I'll be working, attending a funeral, teaching 5 piano lessons and going to a home-school conference on Friday.  But before I go, I'll have 5 brand new pairs of pants.

It's Monday evening, I gotta go sew.....

Music education it is achangin'

Last Friday I attended an honour concert for the local music festival and was plunged again into the world of classical music competition.  Except for one or two, the performances were solid, some even brilliant.  There were kids who you could tell had a great practice ethic and an enjoyment of the end result.

I was disappointed at the difficulty level and the technique of the performer who was supposed to be the best of the oldest age group, but as I thought about it I wondered if there was just not that much competition any more at that level.

I'm seeing a change in the attitude of families toward their children learning music.  I know I'm stating the obvious, but most of the students who performed Friday were from families that had immigrated from Europe or Asia in this generation and had brought their cultural music learning ethic with them.

In our school, we just closed down our band program.  Now, my husband started and sustained the band program and is a fantastic band instructor, besides being the principal of the school.  He has taught prize winning bands for 37 years, and started bands in every school he taught in to great success.  But now we find that parents are not willing (or possibly even are not able) to insist their kids practice consistently, so the young instrumentalists never get to the place where they are no longer struggling with the instrument and just enjoying it.

However, when digging a little deeper we found many of these kids not practicing their flute or trombone were taking drum, guitar, bass or piano lessons on the side, and were practicing those instruments with vigor.  So we changed this year to a worship band format for our instrumental instruction, and the participation is full and enthusiastic.

Inside of me, I feel we have lost something; the experience of being part of a big, loud, moving music machine that carries the players and the audience to a different place inside.  That was my band experience.
But look what we have gained; players who are enthusiastic, more likely to get together and make music with their friends, gaining skill on instruments they will play until they die, having fun, making new friends and worshiping God.

I'm thankful that piano students still walk through my picket fence, up the path, knock on the door and come into my living room for a private lesson on my mother's walnut grand piano.  Somedays I wonder if I've time traveled back to the 1930's.  But these days, I better make sure that the lesson is an enjoyable experience, that my practice expectations for them are realistic and that the music is relatable to their lives, or this too shall pass.