Labor Day Weekend

The high school Homecoming Queen pageant was clearly run by someone who has never seen a pageant. This is what my daughter, Elannah, told me. Both she and Sophia were asked to be pageant judges, which amused them--both because they are sisters and because their minimal experiences in pageants certainly don't qualify them to judge one--but they didn't pass up the opportunity 

Last night, when Elannah was laughingly telling me the tale of the event, she declared that she would be happy to run next year's pageant because the student body officers who ran it this year had no earthly idea what it took to put a pageant together. Besides the nearly thirty minutes of tech issues, there was just no...pageantry. Sure, if you like minimalist stage decor and uninterested announcers, it was fine; but Elannah did not think it was fine. I told her I'm good friends with one of the vice principals, so she better mean it because I was going to pass her offer along and get her an unpaid job as pageant master. I assumed Elannah would back down, but she didn't. She was really upset by the amateur nature of the whole thing, having been Homecoming Queen herself at the same high school when she was a senior. 

I could not attend the high school's Homecoming Queen pageant, myself, because I was at our first official choir rehearsal for the Christmas season, and I had to play the piano while our real pianist is out until the end of September. Our choir has grown so much that we have had to move from Denise's large basement music room to her larger family room upstairs, a two-story room with lots of hard surfaces that bounce the sound around. It sounded great (those diva sopranos will use any excuse to linger in the reverb), but the electronic piano I was using got lost in the echo, and most of the time I couldn't even hear myself play. The only reason I accepted Denise's request to be the temporary accompanist is because I know that Paula, the other pianist in the group with far superior piano skills to mine, really resents being asked to play when she would rather sing. I'm good at plunking out parts; it's when I have to play accompaniment that I get stressed. Fortunately, I will not be playing accompaniment at our concert.

Denise's former math professor, who is Catholic, put together an interfaith musical concert for our area for September 11 and asked our choir to participate along with choirs from other organizations and religions. We will sing Rutter's "Distant Lands" and Michael Barrett's arrangement of "Mangisondele Nkosi Yam," both of which we just sang for our spring concert. This means I will have to reprise my small solo part in "Mangisondele Nkosi Yam," but I'm not worried as no one can hear me if I don't sing into a microphone, try as I might to project. Dallyn, the young tenor I sing with, has an amazing voice, so everyone will be happy regardless.

Finally, I played with paper and my laminator and made another traveler's notebook. I also made my own paper booklet inserts this time, using both lined and graph paper. I'll add a pen loop today so that I can keep a pen handy for writing. I didn't add any embellishments, but I might put some on the next one I make

I was thinking this would be a fun thing for the young women in my ward to do. Paper is simple.

I cut down some double-sided printed cardstock for the cover and ran it through my laminating machine after scoring the spine so it would bend more easily.

There are only three basic paper inserts at the moment. I'm trying to think of what other types of inserts I would need to use on a regular basis. A monthly calendar booklet would be a good one.

Making this scratched a creative itch. Sometimes I just have to do something creative, whether that is with food, yarn, paper, music, sewing, or words. When I plunk myself down to start a new project, Gary says, "Feeling the need to be creative, huh?" Yep. It's also a good time for us to talk about anything and everything.

Speaking of Gary, he's quick with the puns. The other day, he and his friend were walking to the store together, and his friend kept knocking his head on low-hanging tree branches because he was looking down at the sidewalk. After a while of this, Gary teased him, "Are you treegally blind?" 

Get it? "Treegally" instead of "legally"? 

Anyway, it made me laugh for a very long time.