Archive for the ‘Stories’ Category

My Favorite Hobby


2011
06.20

My grandmother taught me how to crochet when I was ten years old.  I made clothes for my dolls and she helped me make a small bag.  I’ve enjoyed it ever since…making afghans, baby blankets, doilies, toys, dish cloths, pot holders, and refrigerator magnets.  Right now I’m on an afghan frenzy.  I made one for my daughter Deanna who goes to school in the Czech Republic and another for Debby who will soon be heading there herself!  It’s very cold there in the winter so I know they’ll get good use out of them.  I enjoy making them as gifts, especially because I already have plenty that I’ve kept for myself and because it’s nice to give people something that says you really care.

The only hazard to crocheting is that it mesmerizes my cats and they tend to chew on the yarn and I come up short, having to retie the ends together to continue on!  It’s relatively cheap (about $50 per large afghan—much less for a baby afghan, and scraps are great for toys and small items).  What I really love about it is that it’s easy to stop whenever I need to and pick up later.  It helps reduce stress because I can focus on something other than work or my problems, and it keeps my hands and mind busy, while forcing me to sit still for a while.

I made this one in the picture for myself because I have a purple couch this color, and one like it in blue for Deanna.  Debby got a teal one that unraveled (oops!), so I made her a new one in pink and ecru in a different pattern.  But I love this particular pattern.

Afghan 005

How to Make Paint


2010
03.10

Tomskateboarding On the way to school this morning, Thomas was telling me how to make paint.  He said, “First you add a little salt.  Then you put in some sour lemon.  The very best ingredient comes next, and it is so yummy and healthy—you are going to love it.  It’s a scoop of ice cream!”

Not sure if you could paint with that, but I thought it was cute.

Picnics and Naps


2010
02.21

After several weeks of either snow or rain, this weekend we were blessed with days in the lower 60’s!  My husband suggested a picnic at the park with Thomas, since the girls were out with their cousin having lunch before guitar lessons.  We packed turkey and cheese sandwiches on hoagies, fresh pineapple, carrots, peppers, chips, and Girl Scout cookies, then set off.  Just about every other house on the way to the park had people outside either weeding or washing their cars.  Sure, I’ve seen the loyal few who are out for a run or walk even in 30 degree temperatures, for for the most part I feel like everyone has been staying inside until the weather got nice enough to spend some time outdoors.

Thomas enjoyed the picnic and played on the slides and swings until three older boys showed up.  They had some kind of toy guns and were spying on each other in the trees and bushes surrounding the park.  Thomas wanted to join in so badly, he went to help the poor boy who’d been left to fend for himself against the other two, bigger, boys.  He was telling him quite loudly where the other two were hiding!  It was really funny, but soon after that we were ready to head home—Woody and I on foot, Thomas on his bike with training wheels.  We had a diet ice-tea with a lid that he put in his little bag on the front of his bike, and every block or so he’d stop and get off his bike to take a drink.

Back at home the adults settled in for nice naps, while Thomas watched his favorite cartoon channel on TV.  Now Woody is off to study at the library for his Foreign Service oral assessment and Thomas is across the street playing with Breahna and her two little sisters.  The girls are still with their cousin so this gives me the perfect excuse and time to write some blog posts!

Order Up a Rainbow, Please


2010
02.18

This morning on the way to taking Thomas to his preschool, he asked if I’d ever seen a real rainbow.  I told him that yes, indeed I had, and it was beautiful.  He said, “Does it have to rain first?”

I told him that sometimes rainbows do appear after it rains.

He asked me, “Could you please call up the weather man at the news station and tell him to say we’re going to have rain today?  I really want to see a rainbow!”

Cute how 5 year olds think things work, and the power they attribute to the weather man.

My Musical and Theatrical Family


2010
02.16
Tammy Stanwood and David Woods in Nutcracker, 1991

It’s not surprising, really, that I wanted to dance.  My mom said when I was in the womb that I would either be a football player or a dancer, and she was right!  I still don’t understand football, so it’s a good thing I liked to dance. :)

My mom and dad are both pianists.  My sister is a very accomplished pianist herself, and she and my mom both teach at a Music and Arts store in North Carolina.  Lori and my dad are also singers, and my dad was the drama director at my high school and directed many community theater shows as well.  My sister also played the flute, my older brother the drums (still plays, too!), and my little brother played the saxophone.  I played the piano (a bit) and the flute for a few years.  By the time I finished my freshman year of band I was so into my dancing that I didn’t have time to consider another year of marching band, so I let that one go.

Growing up we always had music in our home.  People playing piano, drums, flute, sax, and singing filled the house from downstairs in the living room, downstairs in the music room, upstairs in the bedroom, and even out on the front porch steps and upstairs balcony.  I love piano music and could listen to it all day, especially when someone is sitting at a piano playing it live.  My parents played a duet on one piano using two octaves and four hands, my aunt Virginia would come and she and my mom would open the doors between the music room and living room and play two piano duets.  It was awesome!

My next door neighbor, Jennifer, took ballet and tap.  I took some gymnastics first, but was really taken by what Jennifer had to show me when we were about 9 or 10 years old.  I had a pair on black patent leather shoes that I would pretend were my tap shoes and she’d give me lessons on the front porch.  I loved it, and couldn’t wait until my parents said I could start taking lessons, too.  When I was ten years old and classes started in the fall, they let me begin, and I was in love.

I started out at Debbie Wilkerson’s Dance Studio in Greenfield, Indiana.  Her studio is still in business to this day and she will always hold a very dear place in my heart.  I began with tap and ballet, and my favorite at first was tap.  Eventually we added jazz, and then Debbie recommended I start taking classes at the Jordan Academy of Dance in Indianapolis.  So on Saturdays, my dad would take me to ballet where I had so many new steps to learn and had to adjust to taking class once a week with girls who took everyday together.  It was awkward and I really disliked it, but somehow I knew that by going there my chances of improving and making my dreams come true were brighter.

My dad found out about a special program at Butler University while talking with some of the other parents in the waiting area one day.  They had a program for high school students who attended college early, usually going half a day to high school and finishing out the day with dance classes at Butler.  My dad knew this had to happen, and he made sure it did happen.  He spoke to the principal at my high school and starting the second semester of my sophomore year, I began going to school early for independent study sessions, attended my other classes, ate lunch at noon, and then drove to Butler University for ballet class beginning at 2:00 until 3:20 Monday through Friday.  There were a few other high school students in my position, but none were from my school, so I drove alone 35 minutes on the interstate each day.  Twice a week we had pointe class from 3:30-4:30, and during Nutcracker season I stayed on for rehearsals for Snow or Waltz of the Flowers (or soldiers, my first year!) until even later.

Then, I’d go back home and get ready for play practice, because I wanted to be involved in drama club where my dad spent much of his time and where my best friends from school were every night.  Sometimes I would also teach classes for Debbie’s studio, but I think those were on days when I didn’t have rehearsals at Butler or the high school, or were on Saturdays.  My dad helped me put up a makeshift barre in our attic and clear out some space so I had my own little studio up there.  It was hot in the summer, but it felt so wonderful to be up there doing barre, practicing my pirouettes or tap, and choreographing for the school talent show.  I had a record player with lots of records and it felt so authentic.

By the time I finished high school a semester early, in January of 1986, I had 21 college credits and began my full time studies in ballet at Indiana University in Bloomington the same month.  I went back to high school for graduation with my friends and classmates in June of 1986, even though I’d already been living on campus and had completed my first semester of college.  It really was like a dream, and I continued dancing at the University of Arizona from 1989-1992 where I got my MFA degree in dance in Tucson.  I got to do some awesome roles in Arizona, and was prepared then to begin dancing professionally.

I’m just thankful that my family is so artistic and theatrical; otherwise I’m not sure I would have been given the opportunities I was given to succeed in my area of passion.

Any Minute…


2010
02.12

The other day my son, Thomas, was making a mess with his toys—but what else is new?  Anyway, I told him to please pick them up because his father would be home any minute.

“What’s any minute mean?”

“Well, it means any time now.”

Less than five minutes later, I asked Thomas again to please pick up his toys.

“Any minute and I will,” was his quick response.

Cold Hands, Anyone?


2010
02.11

We’ve had some really cold temperatures for our moderate climate in the Piedmont of North Carolina lately.  So much so that we even cleared half of our garage in order to get one of our cars parked inside.  That took some doing, too!  My husband took someone’s advice and closed off all the air vents on the ceilings upstairs because it was very warm up there and super cold downstairs.  It worked, but now it’s pretty chilly upstairs and I have been sleeping under a sheet, blanket, bedspread, and another blanket folded in half on top of me.  Plus I’ve been wearing sweat pants, socks, a long sleeved pullover sweater, AND a zip up sweater to bed!

Needless to say, I’m ready for some warmer temperatures.  I have found that in the spring and summer months I am generally a happier, more pain-free person. I’m downstairs now, fairly warm with the fireplace going and drinking some Persian tea, but my fingers are still cold! Makes typing a bit harder than usual and I keep making typos.

Are there any good remedies for cold hands, besides wearing gloves in the house?  Any ointments or lotions that produce the effects of heat that anyone knows of?  I suppose I could get some of those fingerless gloves that bike riders wear.

I hope wherever you are living that you don’t have tons of snow right now!  We were fortunate to miss the big storm that hit Washington, DC, Virginia, and parts of Maryland.  All we got was cold rain!  I’m not complaining!

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