Fiddling Around

Long ago, I picked up a fiddle and started to play. I studied the violin from the age of seven. Some people think that the fiddle and the violin are two entirely different instruments. If you are speaking about an older version of the instrument, then, yes, there are anatomical differences. If not, they are one and the same - the reason they have different names is that it depends on how the instrument is played. A violin can almost magically transform into a fiddle in the hands of a skilled musician. So I am a violinist, and I am a fiddler. My skills at playing classical styles are better developed than those of fiddling (Bluegrass, Celtic fiddling, Gypsy music, and other folk styles), though I long to study more fiddling.

Though the name "violin" is lovely on its own, when speaking colloquially I prefer to use the term "fiddle". It evokes a certain nostalgia which opens unto a world of idylls and tears.  Scottish fiddler Aonghas Grant says it best: "You moved into a different world...It was a great comfort to you, playing the fiddle. It was a sweetener" (Fiddler Magazine, 2011). Fiddling culture revolved around an alternate existence, since the act of making music was an escape from the drudgery of routine as well as a form of deep emotional expression. As a folk art, fiddling was like the oral tradition of storytelling in that very few tunes were ever transcribed until recent years. Fiddlers would begin young and become familiar with the instrument, playing by ear and sight until they learned hundreds to thousands of fiddle tunes. In the Highlands of Scotland, dances, fleadhs and ceilidhs were the primary outlets for making this music. Many tunes reflected the beauty of the natural landscape and others captured the essence of local legends.

My own experience with fiddling began early in my musical education. One of the first pieces I learned to play in elementary school was an American fiddle tune, a "Hoe Down" - the sort of piece that would be played after coming in from the fields, as folks gathered together.  In the next few years, I learned a few Stephen Foster pieces, including the well-known "Oh Susanna". My first year playing in the district honor orchestra allowed me to learn more popular American fiddle tunes in a medley, and my middle school orchestra introduced me to "Corn Pone County", "Blue Fire Fiddler", and other delightful pieces of music.  I also began to learn Celtic tunes, famous Irish songs and folk and fiddle tunes.

My private lessons were centered around classical music, and in the summers I studied jazz improvisation. I never considered myself much of a soloist or virtuoso-in-training; I much prefer chamber ensembles and orchestras for performance. At home, though, I love to spend time composing my own tunes, usually lyrical tone-poems and folksy melodies, meant to be unaccompanied. Of course, I aspire to learn solo repertoire to improve my technique and because there are pieces for which I have developed a certain fondness, one of them being Felix Mendelssohn's violin concerto No. 3 in E minor. Right now, I am working on learning the Old Time Fiddler's Repertoire as well as the above-mentioned classical piece. I am also composing again.  Musically, there is so much that I want to learn, so much to experience, and life is just too short to die.

A Rosy Glow

All around the world today, people are celebrating love.  Some say it started with the legend of St. Valentine, an early Christian bishop and martyr who was said to have written letters from his prison cell. One version of the tale has it that he converted his gaoler's daughter (I intentionally used the older spelling of "jailer") and wrote her a parting note which he signed, "your Valentine."  In the United States, schoolchildren exchange little notes called "Valentines" and candy or little toys.  Teenagers might go out for ice cream and walk holding hands along the street. It's a day for chocolates, teddy bears, red roses and other sentimental displays of affection.

To me, most of the hype is pretty childish and silly. However, I have many fond childhood memories of this day:

In the morning, I would wake to little heart-shaped notes at my place at the breakfast table.  When I opened them up, I would find a short message from my parents telling me how much they loved me along with some Scripture to remind me of how precious I am to God.  In preschool, we drank pink-colored strawberry-flavored milk in honor of the occasion (they should just call it Red-and-Pink Day).

There were always cookies, some with frosting and sprinkles and heart shapes for lunch at the school cafeteria.  In my classroom, we would prepare little themed notes and tuck them into a pouch for each of our classmates along with some chocolates or a fun game. Disney characters and popular cartoons abounded on our Valentine notes with cheesy messages that came in a box we could buy at the grocery store in a set that had enough for the class, including a special note for the teacher. Usually, I would return to my desk after distribution to find piles of chocolate M&Ms, Dove chocolates, and other red-themed candies.  Sometimes there would be a puzzle or word search when I unfolded the notes. One year I got a little stuffed alien doll with a big metallic heart on his purple tummy, the most unusual Valentine's gift.  In high school, you could pay 50 cents to buy a singing telegram and candy for someone you liked, or for a good friend.

There was one special friend that I will always remember, however, who never forgot me on Valentine's Day.  We weren't in the same grade, so it was that much nicer that he would bring me chocolates and a tiny stuffed bear or some other trinket every year on February 14th. He was a sweet little boy, and the year I remember most was my 5th grade year, because I had gone to science camp that week and was not expecting to be there on Valentine's Day. Interestingly enough, it snowed so hard that we had to be evacuated and were brought home the night after we arrived at camp. The next day, I went to school, and there was my little friend waiting with a big chocolate heart. I was so touched that he remembered and prepared something for me even though I would have been away at camp had it not been for the snowfall.

It's the thought that counts, after all. Those external things, the little gifts, are just ways of showing how much we care about someone, not by the price tag, but by the fact that we were thinking of them.

Think about it. God sends us "Valentines" every day - in the loving friends and family that surround us, in the stranger that smiles at us on the street, in a butterfly swooping over the back gate, in the sun shining in the sky; He sends rain for the crops, food for the hungry, solace for those who are anxious.  God is Love, and His love flows down through us to one another, bringing us together.  Today, I'm grateful for all the love in my life, and I know Who to thank, because life is too short to die without having loved.

Sweets to the Sweet

Now, I know this is not a food blog. My blog is about living. But frankly, if we are going to talk about living, then we are definitely going to have to talk about food.

That being said, who likes gingerbread? I can recall the taste of gingersnaps my fourth grade teacher kept in a bag on a certain shelf in her classroom, the little gingerbread houses we formed around milk cartons and decorated with Necco wafers in fifth grade, and the fresh-baked gingerbread house my sister and I cooked up just a few years ago. Gingerbread has a warm, sweet and spicy scent that I will always associate with comfort, family, and chilly winter days.  The idea of a candy house, I suppose, dates back to the story of Hansel and Gretel, a German tale (appropriately, since gingerbread also comes from Germany) in which a brother and sister become lost in the woods and find a charming little cottage made entirely from edible sweets.

This week, the gingerbread made another appearance - this time in the form of a sweet little train, complete with engine, cargo car, and caboose. Granted, it was not remotely made from scratch (it actually came from a pre-baked Wilton kit), but that little train sure looked cute. And it smelled good, too.  My little brother and I assembled the gingerbread train with the provided icing and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves trying to get the candy pieces to stay put. It was actually my first time piping icing for a real project. Thank goodness a friend had taught me a couple piping tricks just a week prior!

Decorating the gingerbread train!

What do you think? Not bad for a first-timer, right? It looks too good to eat. The wheels were definitely a challenge, since the peppermint disks were fairly hefty and tended to slip from their position as hubcaps.  The rest went fairly smoothly, thanks to my newly-acquired piping skills. Huzzah!

Anybody who likes to decorate cakes and other desserts for kids and with kids will tell you that Wilton is king.  They make all sorts of fascinating tools, sugary products and mixes to help busy moms figure out a fun way to incorporate baking into their children's lives or to somehow concoct a themed cake their child would love.  Granted, Wilton is not just for kids - it can also be for professional bakers and decorators, but the point is that their company is all about making it doable, even for those of us who have not attended culinary training. By the way, this is free advertising... if I try or hear about something I like, I might be inclined to share it.

Speaking of which, if you need a superb decorating job done for any event and you live near Greensboro, North Carolina, check out My Two Sweetie Pies, a local bakery. The artwork in cookies, cakes, cupcakes, and cake pops is amazing. I have watched several dessert-based TV competitions and this baker's creativity tops them all, in my opinion.

Sweets to the sweet! Life is too short to die, anyway.

Where the Wind Blows

We've been having the loveliest weather this past week in California. Warm sun and cool breezes all around... perfect for taking walks, riding bikes, or sitting in the backyard with a good book soaking up the Vitamin D.
I've been busy writing and reading for school most days, but I did find the time to make a beaded bracelet set and write a few letters. Yes, that's right - old-fashioned, handwritten letters that you send in the mail.  I have dear friends who live far away, not to mention my only sister and my older brother who live in different states.  Though the regular post takes longer than an email to arrive, nothing beats the timeless charm of a handwritten letter. I thoroughly enjoy scratching out line after line of cursive script, asking for the latest news and telling of the latest adventures. Usually, my recipients enjoy it, too. Receiving personal, handwritten mail is always a nice surprise and written correspondence is a treasure between friends.
I'm beginning to see a theme for this year - ideas. It's all about ideas, innovation, creative thinking - in my classes, at home, among friends.  Brainstorming and planning and conceptualizing are becoming second nature, and it is thrilling to be part of something so dynamic and positive.
What's next, I wonder...
After all, life is too short to die.