Midnight Musings

Photo by Russ Dixon

I sit in a wooden chair made by my husband; alone with my thoughts in the middle of the night.  I think of how last Friday, I went running through a maze of trails in Sacramento, with my sister, Jenny.  I was not the fastest.  I was not the most fit between the two of us.  But as I fell far behind my sister, I felt peace in my soul so pure and profound, I could not keep from smiling.  In a moment of pure knowledge, I felt acutely aware that the place I am at in life right now, is exactly where I am supposed to be.  Any sense of competition, any need to prove something or seek validation was null and void.  

I feel strongly that one of my main  purposes in life is to help you feel of your intrinsic worth through music.  Whether that be over the background music at the supermarket, at church camp, in a concert arena, through your car stereo or at a dinner party in your back yard, it just doesn't matter.   We may not ever meet, but my connection to you through radio waves or through handshake and hug, fulfills me to the point of utter happiness.  So at 12:57 a.m., I feel the need to say thank you for giving meaning to my life. 

Serendipity in Sacramento

Cousin Megan and Mindy

Stepping out of the car into the Sacramento air last Thursday took me back to my childhood.  I spent summers with my cousins there, running through the warm and musky groves of Oak Trees.  I especially looked forward to playing with Megan, the only girl cousin my age.  I returned to find that time had transformed her into a stunningly gorgeous woman and mother of three. 

Last month, when a stranger called to ask if I would come to Sacramento and sing for Girls' Camp, it didn't take long for me to think about it.  In addition to relishing the opportunity to connect with adolescents (seriously), it so happens that my parents live there AND it also happened that my dashing cousin, Chad, was getting married in the Sacramento LDS Temple that weekend (of which my parents are the President and Matron).  Serendipity.

Camp Director and new friend, Heidi Fudhim

Such lovely young ladies

Noni and Buck (Mom and Dad).  They still got it!

SooOOOOooooOOO, long story short: new friendships were formed in the remote California woods.  Long lost family members were found and loved as if we never skipped a beat.  I fell in love with my mom and dad all over again.  And fell in love with the idea of falling in love all over again.  Missed the Glediator.  And missed him some more.

Congratulations to Jenn and Chad!

El día del padre

Dad,

You turn my heart to mush.  I love everything about you from your tube socks, to your Vitalis-sprayed coiffe.  Your arms feel like the safest place on the planet.  I got all my athleticism, competitive spirit, business savvy, linguistic skills, olive skin, and signature nose from you.  You've given your whole life in service to God and to your fellow man.  You take care of your body by playing sports and eating well.  (I still tell my friends that you were in the Senior Olympics!)  Even more impressive is the fact that you have always made spirituality a number one priority in your life.  I am inspired by your generosity towards those in need (which also includes me.  He he he.)  You hold Mom in the highest regard and have never so much as glanced at another woman.  Never have I seen someone so happy to douse a lousy meal in ketchup and savor every bite.  Now THAT is a skill!

I adore you, Papa.  Happy Father's Day!

Love,

Minnie Girl

Pocket Full of Sunshine

"Bedazzled Tampon" found via Flickr

I spent the day making and delivering food to the youth in my church who were pulling weeds, scraping paint and hauling garbage in service for the church grounds of another denomination.  The day was overcast with scattered showers, but by the end of the day it was POURING rain.  We found shelter under a pavilion at a nearby park and brought food in for a barbecue.  No one was prepared with jackets, so I brought every jacket I could find in my closet to the pavilion for the cold and wet crowd.  The Young Men President gratefully put on the Glediator's black leather jacket, stuffed his fists in the pockets to keep his hands warm and pulled out a fist full of tampons.  He laughed.  The Glediator laughed. When he brought it my attention I fumbled for words.  "It's ok," he chuckled, "I have a wife too you know."  I wanted to say "Gleddy, why did you leave your tampons in your coat pocket?"  But I knew that wouldn't work.  So, all I could do was laugh too.  And I am still laughing.

What is it with tampons?  I had Gleddy carry those tampons in his pockets on an evening when we were out and about and I had no pockets with which to safeguard them.  As we drove around in the car, I looked over at one point and he was wearing them over his ears like pencils.  I already told you about the time Thatcher found some in the bathroom cupboard and attempted to make crafts with them.  But I did not tell you about the time he found one in the glove compartment of the car.  I caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror and he was pretending to smoke it like a cigarette.

I'm sorry!  Is this post making you uncomfortable?  Perhaps you should find another blog to read . . .

Thank You!

A BIG thanks to all of you who squished into the alley at Sammy's for a fun, and intimtate concert!  I got tagged in a few photos on facebook, which I stole and pasted here (thanks to Whitney Ebert, below).

The ice cream machine broke until the very end of the show, so that was a real BUMMER.

Can we not point the finger at me for that?  So sorry.

I'm taking it pretty easy this summer and to tell the truth, I have applied to go back to school, so I won't be performing as much as usual.  But put September 4th on your calendar and come join me in concert at the Scera Shell for the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival in Orem, UT!

Fun at Sammy's

Last year, we played at Sammy's on a rainy evening.  Not to worry!  Sammy owns Southworth Hall around the corner, so we all piled in there and had milkshakes together.

Actress, Debbie Jacobsen showed up.  Isn't she beautiful?

Jammin' with the band.  

Don't miss out this year!  Come to my show tonight at Sammy's Cafe on 100 W. 27 N., Provo, UT.  Jarret Burns is on at 8:00 and I will sing at 9:00.  It's free and don't forget about the free ice cream cones too!

A Beautifully Rotten Day

You know the old saying, "an elephant never forgets?"  Well here's the good news: I am not an elephant.  The bad news?  I am entering the early stages of dementia at an alarming young age.  

It is Thursday and the weather doesn't know what to do with  itself.  I wake up to sunshine, put on my flip-flops and get ready for a lunch appointment with Randy Kartchner for a little networking. I leave a little early so I can stop at the music store and pick up a Suzuki guitar book for Jackson's lessons.  But about two minutes before I get to the music store, I forget all about it and go on my merry way to my lunch appointment.  On the 40 minute drive, the sky turns black and it rains harder than I've ever seen in my life.  I am cautious to drive slowly and because I had left home so early, I am fine on time . . . OH MERCY.  It finally hits me that I forgot to go to the music store.  Dang.  I'll do it on my way home,  I tell myself.

I arrive at Cafe Rio in Draper early, due to my forgetfulness.  By now it is raining BULLETS.  I take one look at my flip flops, and take a deep breath.  I roll up my jeans, remove the flip flops and run through a football field size parking lot through the hail and into the warmth of the restaurant.  Once I am all dried off, I find a seat and wait.  And wait.  And wait.  No Randy.  I text Randy:  "I'm not sure what you look like Randy," (we have never met), "and in case you don't know what I look like, I have light brown hair just FYI for when you get here."  Not a minute later, the phone rings.  

"Hi . . . Mindy?"  

"Hi Randy, how are you?"

"I'm fine, but hey, our appointment is supposed to be for tomorrow.  Remember?  I'm in Park City right now."

"Well that's just awesome."  I reply, trying to be chipper.

The rest of the day was a mess.  I lost my iphone (for the second time that week) in the flooded parking lot.  Prayed.  Traced my soggy steps.  Found it.  Prayed again that I wasn't losing my mind.  I sat in the car and cried.  I called the doctor and asked if tests could be done for my failing memory.  I did not want the CT scan they recommended.

I was wet, tired, sick, over-scheduled, and disillusioned with life.  It was a rotten day. 

UNTIL . . .

I went to my guitar lesson that evening.

(Yes, I am learning to play the classical guitar.)

I struggled through a very mediocre "Cuckoo."  Then, I moved up another level to "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."  My teacher had me play two measures over and over.  By the end of the lesson, I was feeling confident that I could figure out the whole song.  I asked him if I could try and play the whole thing.  Very slowly and with quite a few mistakes and a lot of his help, I made it to the end of "Twinkle Twinkle."  I expected him to say "Way to go!  You did it!"  But he did not.  He laughed and said, "and that is exactly what I am trying to teach you NOT to do!"  

What?  I was confused.  C'mon dude, throw me a bone, I thought.

"In the Suzuki method of guitar, you NEVER try to play the whole song at once.  You take it one little section at a time until that section is perfect.  Then you move on."

I WAS ASTONISHED at this wisdom.  Why isn't Suzuki the method for my whole life?  Why do I keep shooting myself in the foot over and over by trying to do everything all at once?  

Note to self:  My life is not a race.  Master each little section one at a time.  Beautiful.