Watch-It Wednesday: Songs My Parents Taught Me (part II)

In contrast to last week's song list, I had the most difficult time narrowing down these wonderful songs that permeate the list of "songs my parents taught me".

Daddy introduced us to Keith Green. When I was little, my favorites were "So You Wanna Go Back to Egypt?", "The Sheep and the Goats", and "The Prodigal Son" - the story songs. As I got older, however, I realized just how wonderful his other pieces were - especially the prayers. Amazing lyrics and beautiful piano parts (I love it when the singer really plays an accompaniment to his singing. No such thing as "just chords" for him!). It's so hard for me to choose only two... If you haven't heard Keith Green before, do listen to other songs of his!

Mama introduced me to Michael Card. His lyrics always amaze me - deep, (sometimes) tear-inducing thoughts, contained in simple rhymes. Another singer I really struggled with picking only two songs from!

(try not to get seasick... :)

*sigh* Good songs, no? I love living in a family who loves good music! :)

Watch-It Wednesday: Songs My Parents Taught Me

In my house, we all live and breathe music. At any given time, you can walk into our home and hear CDs, singing, whistling, practicing, playing - or (more often then not) a combination of some or all of the above. One of the first things we notice about a new movie is the soundtrack (when Fireproof came out, the first thing Maddy said was "Dis music is weally good!"). If a store has obnoxious "noise" playing - regardless of the volume - we find it nigh impossible to remain for more than a couple minutes. Repetition of musical motifs drive me insane (Ugh - Bolero. Ravel was mad), and I find it impossible to think originally if I have listened to the same CD more than twice in a row.

But there are some songs that, like it or not, are just a part of you: the songs your parents sang when you were little. The songs they knew are not necessarily ones we listen to every day, or would latch on to if introduced to them now. And yet...well, maybe, if you'll permit, I'll just share a couple:

Dad's -
 Africa: no, it doesn't make sense, but there's something beautifully catchy (haunting?) in the music! :p

Mom
Warning: ... I don't know how to prepare you ... :)

1. Dad I Gotta Go

2. Cow Patty
please excuse the two words in this...

3. Match-Maker, Match-Maker

Except for...the words changed somewhere between the movie and the mother. As I remember, the words were...

Mess-maker, Mess-maker make me a mess

Spill me some milk

I need some stress...

Yep, there are apparently many different versions out there! :)

Of course, they also sang us lovely, beautiful, serious songs...but I'll save those for next week.

I'm Home!!!!

"O wow. O wow. That is impressive!" The couple sitting next to me in the plane leaned forward, craning their necks to see out my little peep-hole of a window, while I leaned back, grinning in (senseless?) pride as they gawked and exclaimed at the beauty of my home. "Look at that mountain! O man. Wow."
"Have you guys ever been to Portland before?" I asked them, when their compliments began to slow. "Nope, first time!" they replied, "That is soo cool!" gesturing again to the mountain by which we were flying.

I just smiled. Over the past few days, the moment our fellow Instituters discovered where we lived, Lauren, Mika, and I were posed with the question: "Does it really rain there all the time?" "Well, I guess it does rain a lot..." we'd look at each other and shrug, "but you don't really notice it." (As a side-note, today is sunny and mid-70s.) However, if the truth be told, the Northwest is the most beautiful place known to man; even though, as one lady (who had actually visited) asserted, "It's the best-kept secret in the world!"

And I was home. Home where people know what the color green is. Home where rain is a thing you go outside and dance in, not pull out your umbrella for. Home where the sun shines on a million bright colors of pink, purple, and gold flowers; pale- and deep-green grass; dark, chocolate-colored dirt; and brilliant red bushes (instead of...well...brown everything). Home where the horizon does not stretch flat and endlessly, but where there are mountains and hills and woods and trees.

Yes, I love home. But what I love most about it, are the people who live here! To be tackled the moment I came into view by the three Littles, to be told by James that "Nothing was the same with you gone," to read yet another letter Maddy had written me, but hadn't had time to send - I am truly blessed by those with whom the Lord has chosen to surround me! Yes, I was sad Trip Utah was over. Yes, I loved chatting with and getting to know some of the amazing Suzuki teachers who rode the shuttle with us every day. Yes, I met some great people, and wish I could have gotten to know them better. Yes, I was challenged and sharpened and encouraged by those eleven days with my dear friends. But ultimately, I know this: God created and designed me to be here - in this home, older sister to nine siblings, living in the most beautiful state in the nation.

And it's good to be home.

Queen of the Fort

      
This is not usually my job.


As a matter of fact, my job is usually to laugh at the people doing this job.


Because they're paranoid.


Waaaay paranoid.


And I am not.


Usually.


How could I have switched roles so fluidly? Without even letting myself know? Didn't I realize that I was supposed to check in at the personality desk and notify myself that I would be having a temporary role reversal? What if it's not temporary? What if, in forgetting to check in, I forgot to alert myself to the fact that this is, in fact, permanent? I don't think I can even go there... Why borrow trouble from tomorrow? Ahhh, that sounds more like me, maybe I'm fine.


But why in the world, then, do I find myself checking to make sure the doors are locked, not once, but twice? Why would I pull JT from bed at a quarter to one this morning to go downstairs with me and investigate the thumping sound, which was, of course, simply the dog having a heyday in our trash can since we forgot to lock him up? Why do I feel the need to check on my sleeping siblings three times before I finally go to bed? Why did I lie in bed for an hour last night, listening to all the sounds a sleeping house makes, fighting my imagination as it concocted 'worse-case-scenario' explanations for every creak?


Because, duh, my mom, dad, and brother - the ones on whom I usually depend to discern any grave catastrophe (such as trash can thumping) - are gone this weekend! Ben took off Wednesday morning for Narnia and the North! Um, I mean, for Seattle, to go to some conference-thing with his honor's society (obviously, I was a little vague on details). Mom, Dad, Zach, and Rachel soon followed his itchy-footed example, but being loath to mimic him to the letter, they departed Thursday for the sunny south, travelling down to California to visit Grandma and Papa.


And so, you see, I am stuck here in the middle, burdened with the responsibility of being the paranoid, "is-everything-secure?" guard, and liberated by assuming the self-declared title of "Queen of the Fort." Even though the seven of us feel a bit forlorn without our MIA family members, we have had a lovely couple days, and have fun plans for the rest! Emily, my "Queen of the Fort in Training" (also a self-assumed title), and I have ruled with an iron hand of gentleness, and our minion--I mean siblings have done their duty in keeping us amused. Behold, as an example, the following conversation, which took place last night after the Twinkles (at the capable age of five) had been attempting - for nearly ten minutes, mind you - to spread a blanket on the floor:


Sarah: "Hurry up already, girls, It's taking you, like, three years!"
Megan: "Well, this is still the first day, hello!"
*choking laughter*


Besides providing smiles, the Middles and Littles left to our care have been a great encouragement in completing their mandated tasks--that is to say, their minuscule chores we graciously suggested. I believe their diligence was largely aided by the reward system the wise heads of the QOTF and QOTFIT set up for them. To be brief, we offer one, almost-full meal to each individual who completes his/her tasks within the course of a day. It has been unequaled in its results, and I strongly recommend it to any less-wise authority struggling with slacking, lazy children who refuse to work twelve hours straight.


O, look at the time! I must be off to my beauty sleep. A queen, you know, needs her rest...If I can sleep in this thumping house. Maybe I should go check the locks again.


Signing off, this is the totally paranoid prepared Queen of the Fort, leaving you with these words:


Mom, Dad, Ben, Rach, and Z, we can't wait 'til you come home!