Bellissima!

Last night I drove to Kearney to fulfill an assignment for my music class: we are required to attend, and file a report on two concerts. It may come as no surprise to my readers that concerts - of any sort - are somewhat rare in the Nebraska hinterlands.  A concert of art music? - the type we are studying in class? - well - let me repeat - I drove to Kearney last night.

UNK hosts a weekly concert series featuring faculty, and others, free of charge and open to the public.  Roughly 60 of us braved the frigid temperatures to gather at the Fine Arts Building on the UNK campus for a flute recital Monday night.  While students seemed to represent the largest portion of the audience there was more than a handful of well-dressed elders in the auditorium.  Audiences always interest me, so it wasn't difficult to assign a general storyline that included years of faithful attendance, regular contributions, and tear-inducing memories, to several of the stately women scattered among the seats.   Given the opportunity I could imagine myself among their numbers.

One of the selections was "Antigone Speaks," written for flute and viola (with brief recitations by the flutist) by Sylvia Glickman in 2004.  It was an elegant and soulful piece enhanced by the subtle accents of German-born Franziska Nabb and underscored by the somber drone-like aspect of the viola.  Bellissima!

Nabb first presented an assortment of contemporary numbers accompanied by a piano and featuring a mezzo-soprano soloist.  She was joined by the aforementioned viola, a cello and organist for a selection of classical and baroque pieces after the intermission, during which she acted as stage hand rearranging chairs and music stands to accomodate the quartet.

The program began at 7:30 and the applause died at 9:00 sending us back into the cold night.

overwhelmed

With thanks to Charles Shultz via google images for this classic....

 

Sharon sauntered into the library, but picked up speed when she saw me standing by the stacks.
Oh! I just heard!
She threw her arms around me and squeezed!

Would you be surprised to learn that Sharon is one of my Intrepids?

Intrepid II

Lest I seem unbalanced (I know, I know) in my reporting, here is the rest of the story concerning the ladies who coffee:

They are the backbone of this community.

They quilt, vote, volunteer, and donate.  They deliver meals-on-wheels to those who need them. They prepare funeral suppers for their dear friends.  They mentor and volunteer for CASA.  They provide and serve  delicious homemade vegetable beef soup, cookies, and sandwiches to close to 200 people for the Red Cross blood drives (one reason we always have such a good turnout). They teach sunday school and shepherd the MOPs kids (and their mothers).  They show up for basketball and football games, track meets, concerts, plays and recitals, making sure their grandkids (and their grandkids' friends) have someone to applaud and smile at the appropriate time. They are no stranger to city council meetings.  Or to racy stories.  Some of them were teaching country schools when they were 16 or 17 years old.  They've said goodbye to parents, husbands and children.  They know how to work hard, and when to start again.  They know the value of laughter and the need for tears.

The coffee doesn't have to be fresh, just keep it coming  - kind of like these ladies.

google images

if this is February 2nd...

then yesterday was Jacob's birthday!  I did call.  I sent a couple texts, and a card in the mail, but I forgot to post!  (he's not alone in the oops!-I-forgot-to-post department)

So, a late, but sincere acknowledgement:



Happy Birthday, Jacob!

cake courtesy of google images



Intrepid

google images

No, I didn't take this photo, but I could have if I'd thought  to take my camera along when I went to the dentist yesterday morning.  And if I'd been willing to roll my window down a fraction...

We've all heard of ladies who lunch, n'est-ce pas?  Well, in Gothenburg they do coffee.  Every morning.  Without fail.  There are actually several overlapping groups who make the doughnut shop on main street their headquarters starting from, oh say 7:30 to 11.  Every morning.  Without fail.  They come.  Some go.  The next few arrive.  All morning.  Every morning.  Without fail.

There are very few things that take me away from home on a day off.  That list dwindles significantly when the weather is less than ideal.  I was only out at 9:15 on a frigid February morning because I had a dentist appointment.  But, when I have to put on presentable clothes on my day off I like to make the most of my outing so I also stopped at the bank and City offices.  At the corner, looking north, I could see the sign on the bank telling me it was -7 degrees.  Let's not even factor in the wind chill from our 30+ mph winds.  Swinging my bundled head the other direction I could see the intrepid ladies of Gothenburg were coffee-ing as usual.  Keep in mind that these women are closer to 80 than 60, can probably still work circles around most of us, and often cause the play button on my private soundtrack to engage:   remember the "Pick-A-Little" song from Meredith Wilson's The Music Man?