The Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Today I happened to spend the vast majority of my waking hours at the home of some of my closest friends, who have sort of taken me in loco parentis and more or less adopted me with the express permission of my own mother (who tends to like to make sure I am faring well so far from my homeland). This was probably good, because as I have commented before [1], this is not my favorite weekend of the year. I managed to get my errands done as best as possible early so as to allow myself the chance to get over to rural Clackamas County by about noon, and I managed to tail a slow van driver, who ended up being one of the host family’s relatives who goes to church with us who I don’t happen to know very well, which made for an interesting coincidence when he dashed off from work at his grandparents’ place and came over to eat with us. Before we ate, another of the guests and I went outside to sit around the fire and for quite a while I sat in a seat where I was enveloped by smoke, the kind of situation where the smoke gets in your eyes and in your clothing and everywhere else. Even as I sit some ten to eleven hours later writing this, I can still smell the smoke.

Dinner itself went very well. There was, as I am accustomed to, enough food to feed a small village like Colton, and there was no way that it was all going to be finished, even though we ended up with a couple of the hosts’ relatives that skipped out on a work project putting up a roof for a shed to come over and eat the large spread of meat, more meat, some veggies to go along with the meat, and drinks. I managed to eat enough for myself, save room for most of a slice of cheesecake a few hours later, and drink some glasses of tea, and that was enough for me. Others seemed to be eating fairly similarly as well, from what I could see. At any rate, there was more food than all of us could eat, and even the addition of a couple more members of the hosts’ family later on only made a small dent into the extra food with a young lady who liked to graze.

After dinner I managed to give a violin lesson to the host, as I had promised to do before leaving, and managed to give some introductory comments on fingering, bowing technique, and what to play in order to develop a good ear for the material and to reinforce her existing singing. Towards the end of the evening I ended up giving another, briefer, lesson to the actual owner of the violin, the hosts’ daughter, who had not played in quite a while, and whose husband had forgotten all of his violin playing from his own youth. I even had the chance to compare two methods of music education, one method for young children who learn rote memorization and develop impressive technical skills but without any sort of theoretical understanding, and another much more gradual but deeper sort of teaching style where lessons come with explanations as to why certain things are done a certain way.

For the rest of the evening that I was there, I ended up spending a fair amount of time helping plan the adult dance, giving some ideas for paintings and lighting and arrangements, providing some good French vocabulary for the intended theme (turn of the last century Paris), and helping find some good images to serve as inspiration for future art projects. I also managed to watch almost all of Secondhand Lions with a couple of others, anticipating much of the dialogue simply by being aware of a good story, cliche, and a certain sense of wit, despite never having seen the film before. It was an enjoyable film, dealing with the question of family, of trust, and of where and with whom one really belongs, as well as the need for parents to act in the best interests of their children. These are all areas of great difficulty in the lives of people, and certainly relevant ones for many people. The day gave me much to ponder, and was busy enough to keep me distracted from the mourning I would have otherwise done today.


About nathanalbright

I'm a person with diverse interests who loves to read. If you want to know something about me, just ask.
This entry was posted in Christianity, Church of God, Love & Marriage, Musings and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to The Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

  1. Pingback: Sketches Of Country Life | Edge Induced Cohesion

  2. Pingback: Everything Has To Be An Adventure | Edge Induced Cohesion

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