Snowy Day

So, I arrived to lab the other day and we had received a decent amount of snow. The University is still on break and it was early so campus was basically deserted. I thought this might be one of my last decent chances to take some relatively "pure" pictures of a snowy Illinois campus. And here they are.....

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Today I have decided to be snowed in at our apartment. My previous ambitions for taking Ramona and three loads of laundry to the laundromat were pushed aside with the snow that began accumulating inches on the ground last night.

Although two and a half loads of dirty clothes and towels remain unwashed in our bedroom, I attempted to wash half a load (entirely Ramona's clothes) in our bathtub this morning. I have yet to decide if this was a worthwhile effort, as I was constantly struggling to keep Ramona from climbing the toilet or playing with the plunger.
It was a snowy day like this about seven years ago that I came with my parents to the University of Illinois for my undergraduate audition at the school of music. I have to admit this audition was a bit half-hearted on my part, as I had hopes for acceptance at BYU's school of music instead. I remember trudging through drifts of snow as I went between buildings for a music theory exam, a vocal audition, a cello audition, an interview--I remember the whiteness of the interstate as we slowly drove home afterward. The thought crossed my mind that I might never return to that campus again. I thought wrong.

About a week later, on my 18th birthday, two letters came in the mail from BYU. Both of them notified me of rejection from the music college, although I had been granted general admittance to the university, should I choose a different major. I remember tears flooding my eyes as I wondered where I was supposed to go and what I was supposed to do with my future. A door had been closed that I had hoped to enter, and I stood there staring at it, wondering how to move forward.

A few more weeks went by, and another letter came for me in the mail: University of Illinois, School of Music. Acceptance. That half-hearted audition had pulled through (undoubtedly by the grace of God), and a new door was opened. I stepped through that door full of gratitude and reassurance that this was where I was supposed to be.

From this experience, I learned that often the things we wish for and pray for are not necessarily the things we really need. As I look back on my life since I walked through that door leading to Champaign-Urbana, I can see the many ways my needs have been fulfilled through the people I've met and the situations I've experienced here as a student, a teacher, a wife, and more recently as a mother. While I have no way of viewing the hypothetical life I would have lived, had I chosen a different path, on most days I find myself at peace with the life I find myself living right now. In many ways, it couldn't be much better.

Our little family still has no idea where it will be at the close of 2010. We do know that Intel's door is no longer open to us, so the job hunt will continue for a little longer--perhaps in a different direction than we originally expected. Although I have occasionally dreamed of living in a three-bedroom house in Portland with its view of snow-capped Mount Hood and proximity to cherry orchards, waterfalls, and the Oregon coast, I am content to put those ideas aside for the time being . . . and watch the Illinois snow from the window of our one-bedroom apartment.

Ramona's Holiday Tour

Because Forest and I currently have the luxury of living within a one-hour radius of our parents, it was both our duty and our pleasure to take Ramona around for a tour of multiple Christmases. But we celebrated a Christmas of our own on the 23rd, before our journeys began.
It started with angel food cake french toast for breakfast, new and improved from last year
. . . and included a stack of gifts, which dwarfed our tiny 18-inch Christmas tree.
Upon opening a few gifts, generally disregarding the contents, and playing with boxes and wrapping paper, Ramona commenced her holiday travels.
The 24th at Parry's
We spent the next couple of nights in Cerro Gordo, where a one-of-a-kind Christmas tree is always there to greet us this time of year. I can't decide which I like better--the Parry Tree '08 or the Parry Tree '09.Some of us wore festive socks for the 24th,
gave kisses under the mistletoe,
helped make an enormous Parry-style pie in the kitchen,


and watched the rain fall.


Christmas Eve at Grandma Carol's
At Grandma's house, Ramona played with a giant bucket of toys,
received plenty of hugs from Grandma,

opened more gifts,
gave Grandma a gift,
and attempted to steal ornaments off of the Christmas tree.
Christmas morning at Grandpa Parry's
Despite our hectic itinerary, Santa was well aware of Ramona's various locations on Christmas as evidenced by the plentiful gifts left for her at all of our stops that day.
He must have known what a nice baby she has been these past eight months.


Speaking of Santa, he never forgets to bring Parry a fresh supply of chocolate raisins.

Christmas lunch at Dutch and Bill's
Teresa's parents have a house that feels like some extension of the North Pole when this season arrives. Her lawn is covered with decorations, and a large section of her living room is dedicated to a tiny village of lit homes, ice skaters, and even an electric ski lift. It wasn't until after we arrived at their home that the snow finally came, transforming wet Christmas into white.
Diapers are perhaps more of a gift for mom than baby, but Ramona was still pleased . . .. . . and she was just as pleased when Teresa handed her a pickle to taste for the first time.Christmas afternoon at Ojiichan and Obaachan's house
More gifts awaited Ramona at my parents' home in Normal . . .

. . . as well as a basket of markers, promptly dumped out on the floor by guess-who?

A few successful family photos, after several attempts:

Ramona stayed with Ojiichan and Obaachan on the 26th while Forest and I headed up to Chicago to visit the temple. It was blanketed in snow by the time we arrived.
As we were leaving the temple, we saw three deer in a lot nearby. They looked back at us once before leaping away. I asked Forest if they were "snowdeer," instead of "raindeer." For all the pun-filled jokes he has told me, he should have laughed.We also saw a snow-covered nativity display still set up on the temple grounds. Somehow, looking at those figures and standing there together made it feel like we had found a moment of true "peace on earth." After all the busyness and activities of the past few days, I felt a contrasting sense of calm in being there. If I were a deer, perhaps I would wander by there, too.Merry Christmas.

Christmas Cello-ing

My cello tends to be a little bit busier this time of year. The past couple of weeks have been filled with various rehearsals for performances of Christmas music: a quartet with flute, violin, viola and cello for "The First Noel," a trio with piano, voice, and cello for "Gesu Bambino," a 20-piece church orchestra for "Beautiful Savior," "O Come O Come Emmanuel," and a medley of carols. The red cello case also made an appearance at my students' cello recital last Friday, which featured additional holiday music.

Although the increased musical obligations accompanying this season at times feels stressful and provokes some complaining on my part, I have to acknowledge that music has helped to shape some of my fondest Christmas memories. I'm not sure the holiday would feel the same without the carols--or the schedule packed with rehearsals.

Moving Forward

I have always been taught that God will never give us more than we can handle. In my own life, I have found this to be true. For example, on Wednesday morning, I was given an orchestra sub job, a cold, snowy morning, a nail in the middle of the road, and a flat tire. Fortunately, I was also given an extra set of strong hands (Forest happened to be along for the ride), a spare tire (which ended up getting more miles than I'd like to admit), a baby who remained oblivious of the situation and stayed asleep in the back seat (Ramona), and enough time to drop off each of my family members as planned and make it to my first assignment on time. Had I been alone and running late with no spare tire and a screaming child, I probably would have gotten nowhere that day.

Despite the occasional sharp objects in the road and my propensity for driving over them (two flat tires in two years is a lot for one driver, correct?), it still feels like our family is making some forward progress. We still have no idea where we will be in six months, but we do have hopes and at least one prospect. Forest has been in Portland the past two days interviewing for a job with Intel, who has promised him a yes or no answer in the next few weeks. Whatever the answer may be, I sometimes catch myself envisioning what it would be like for our little family to continue its journey in the great Northwest.

While all of this has been going on, Ramona has been making substantial progress on her own. She has been crawling in the forward direction for about a week now. This mobility combined with my lack of motherly experience has led to considerable reflection about what the word "babyproofing" actually means.

Onward, ever onward . . .