Lauren, Dave, and Kara Work Off Their Thanksgiving Feast

Dave and Kara and I found ourselves with a long free day ahead of us this morning as we sat at the breakfast table, still in our food comas from yesterday.

Since my dad is going into the hospital for a hip replacement on tuesday, we thought it

might be helpful to all of us if we went outside and took care of some of the things that needed to be done. (And since d, k, & I are blessed to not own homes of our own where things like raking leaves need to be dealt with, it was good for us to get a taste of what responsibility is like...)

Of course, there is a limit to the amount of responsibility you should indulge in the day after a holiday, so we had to have a little bit of fun:

After our rough-housing, we were hungry (we successfuly abated our food-coma problem apparently...) so we broke for a lunch made up of turkey sandwiches and other left-over sides. Then, Kara and I tackled the Christmas lights while Dave mowed the lawn.

(I do mean tackle...)

We changed things up a bit from years past, and wrapped the porch to resemble a candy-cane.

We've decided--

we like it!

We also decided we like spending a long free day together, and are finishing it off watching holiday movies with Mom and Dad. Holidays are lovely.

For we know this much is true:

We love to eat, and we love each other.

Pumpin Pie, Phase IV

Victory. (Don't ask...)

Caught red-handed.

The best dang mashed potatoes you ever will lay eyes on...

Keith's caption for this one? "Lauren really loves bread"
Marisa's proudest moment

What height difference?

Still eating?

Pumpkin Pie Phases II & III, plus a story about some turkeys.

I am sure that you are curious about the fate of those many pieces of pumpkin we cut up the other night. Never fear, you don't have to wait any longer to find out if my cooking was more successful than my cutting. It was: (I wonder if this photo captures other-natural forces at work to help?)

Thus began Phase II. Later that evening my mother and I squeezed that pumpkin through multiple layers of cheesecloth, until it was as dry as it could be.


(In fact, we worked extra hard to make it extra dry, because our matriarch had left us some pretty specific instructions and, quite truthfully, we are afraid of her.) I am happy to report that as Phase III got under way this morning she was as pleased as pie with the consistency. She seemed genuinely surprised that we had achieved what we had, and set to work fixing it up. I watched very carefully, and am confident that in future years I can re-create this family tradition that she keeps in her head. We chatted nicely as we put the pies together and waited for them to bake to perfection.

To perfection they baked, and so Grandma and I felt confident

that we could leave them cooling while we went out for lunch.

When she asked me where I wanted to go I said Wendy's would be fine, since I know she likes it. She ignored me and said "Do you like Chinese?" with such a cute little twinkle in her eye that I could tell she was dying for me to say yes. So, yes I said, and Chinese we went. (How much do I love those little donuts covered in powdered sugar for dessert?)

It was so good to be together, and yet so hard to be without Grandpa. After I broke down trying to pray for our meal, she sweetly said "tomorrow's going to be a little hard". (And, since I break into tears every time I think about it, I think this might be a bit of an understatement....)

It was a good, precious morning.

But NOW. For that story I promised you.

Once upon a time, there were three gigantic turkeys--Fred, Ed, and Edwina.

They were a happy trio.

Every day they went for a morning constitutional, off of the mountain and into the land of the strange creatures. Fred, Ed, and Edwina were not afraid of these strange creatures; after all, there was clearly no competition for "best strut" in comparison to them.

On one particular morning, Fred, Ed and Edwina sensed a peculiar feeling in the air. They took a moment to convene, in order to discuss what this feeling might be.

Fred thought it might be excitement for the cold gray day. Edwina dismissed him with a flick of her tail. Ed contributed that he was sure that it had something to do with rotting pumpkins, because he could smell them nearby. Edwina gave him a withering glance. She looked up and spotted what she was sure was the cause--a strange creature, crouched behind a window-pane, holding a small silver shiny thing. Edwina had experience with strange creatures holding silver shiny things. She found them to be quite obnoxious, and if there was anything Edwina could not tolerate it was obnoxiosity.

"I will not tolerate it boys", she said, turning abruptly on her spindly little leg,

and headed back up the mountain.

"Edwina!" Fred and Ed sputtered, "what?...". But she was already gone.

The poor fellows felt like a hook and line without a sinker.

They meandered to the other side of the street.

"It really is cold and gray", said Fred to Ed.

They meandered into the middle.

"And it really does smell like pumpkins", said Ed to Fred.

Meanwhile, Edwina stalked up the street with righteous indignation.
She knew Fred and Ed well enough to know that they wouldn't be far behind,

and she was not mistaken.

THE END

Some things I am loving today....

Since I find myself with these luxurious work hours behind and in front of me, I thought I'd take a little break and share with you some things that are making me smile today.

Thing 1: Last night Kate was being a little wild animal. Heather and Ash told her that she needed to sit with her hands quietly in her lap or else she was going to get a time out. She was a little grumpy about this, and said "I don't want to live with this family anymore!" (If she's feeling so deeply about this at the age of four, she's going to be a bit of a bugger in her teenage years I am afraid to say...) H & A asked her where she would live instead and Kate replied "With Lauren! And I will be her piano assistant, and assist her with the piano, and we can eat what we want." What do you do with such grumpy cuteness but laugh?

Thing 2: This morning I emerged from my room and met my mother in the hallway with a groggy good morning. A "good morning" back is a typical response but instead this is what she said: "We have a major problem. As laughable as it may seem, I think I flushed my glasses down the toilet. They were in the pocket of my robe, and I cannot find them anywhere." Every time I think about this, I cannot restrain a grin. My mother is hysterical.

Thing 3: This song. (Read on...)

How He Loves

He is jealous for me

Love's like a hurricane, I am a tree

Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy

When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory

and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great your affections are for me.

Oh, how He loves us so Oh, how He loves us, How He loves us so.

So we are His portion and He is our prize,

Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes

If grace is an ocean we're all sinking

So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns violently inside of my chest

I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way

That he loves us.

~Jesus Culture

Pumpkin Pie Phase I

Today began my Thanksgiving break. I arrived in NJ last night and was promptly put to good use, driving my father to drop off his truck at the service station (since they can use my car while I'm here). That meant that this morning I was left at my parents house with no car and no distractions, the perfect set-up for getting work done. Hence, getting work done I did. (Hooray! I have nothing against work, I just get easily distracted by life...)

Then, this evening began the Thanksgiving Day preparations. My grandmother arrived, the pumpkins were brought in and the cutting for the traditional Van Grouw pumpkin pie began. I went to work, but was quickly vetoed off the stage. (I have a tendency toward clumsiness, and a tendency toward piano playing, and it turns out that my family is apprehensive that these two things do not go hand-in-hand when a large knife is also involved....)

(Check out my attire however--today I basically rolled out of the shower and into my lounge-wear, and spent the rest of the day curled on the guest room bed with my laptop and books. This is a pretty nice way to spend a day, I have to say, and a luxury I rarely take...)

My dear father took over the cutting while Grandma directed. She was made to be a director, and directed the rest of us in the cutting up of a thousand small chunks. I fear that my pumpkin cutting was not up to her standards, and may have even offended her, but she didn't say (presumably because she loves me). Although, she did make a point of saying "You have to be an old hand at this" to us, and did not seem willing to concede that any of us had reached that point in our pumpkin career...


I may not have a future in pumpkin cutting, but I have to tell you--

my pumpkin seed toasting skills are to die for.

(We'll see how my pumpkin-cooking skills are, as I'm in charge of putting it on the stove and cooking it up tomorrow...:-/)

This ain't your grandmother's Christmas Spectacular....

For one thing, we are at the Bryce Jordan Center in State College Pennsylvania and not New York City, as much as you may not believe me. This brings me to the next thing. Do you see the Radio City Music Hall in the background of this picture? Well, guess what: It's not really there.

Yes my friends, you read correctly. Tonight I was eye-witness to a feat unlike any other I have experienced in quite some time (as in, ever). I have just returned to my humble home, after being the recipient of an extra ticket to see the famous Rockettes kick their legs with fervor and grace. While their physical stints were quite extraordinary, the backgrounds projected behind them are probably what I will remember the most. There's really no capturing it, other than to say: It was pretty dang cool.

Let me tell you about my weekend.

Remember when I was gushing about special moments with special people? Well, I hate to tell you that those special moments did not end after Friday's recital. In fact, they just kept a-comin'. You will have to live without pictures for most (contrary to popular belief, I do not in fact carry a camera with me everywhere I go...), and rely merely on my narrative powers (which you might need to forgive a bit this time around, because it is well past my bed-time and yet--for some strange reason--I cannot seem to sleep. Make the most of all opportunities is what I say, so here we go...)

Saturday began like most other Saturdays. I woke up. I dealt with life--laundry, groceries, banking, baking-of-squash-for-making-of-squash-soup, etc. I luxuriated in taking my time, and by 11.10 was satisfied that life was indeed dealt with.

With perfect timing, Heather called and said "Come for lunch!" which was pretty nice seeing as I had forgotten to eat breakfast in all of my dealings. (Heather pretty consistently feeds me when I forget to eat. It is one of the many reasons why I cannot imagine life without her.) She fed me delicious bbq as I sat at her counter and while we dug through life. We were not entirely satisfied with the effects of the digging, and decided that what we really needed was some thrifting. Since Sarah was at a birthday party, and Ash was going about his own dealing with life, Heather, Kate and I headed out to the local thrift store. I did not know what to expect, as I had not yet taken advantage of the thrift possibilities in my local area, but I was pleasantly surprised to find some pretty neat, pretty old, white dishware to add to my collection.

(Sidebar: Awhile back I decided that when I finally grow up and have a real life, I would like to have a black and white kitchen with green accoutrements. That was just before the whole world went crazy and decided that black and white was "in", but I have decided that even though I detest following a crowd, this particular crowd is following me and hence--it is ok. That being said, I have unofficially begun gathering to my bosom random pieces of black/white/green dishware. The older the better. Hence, yay thrift store.)

Kate found some color-forms that she was pretty pleased with, so we returned home for some "alone-time with Lauren". This is a phenomenon that Kate guards with surprising force, and anyone who tries to interrupt this precious time is firmly reprimanded. (I am pretty scared of her.) We hid ourselves away in her bedroom and played color-forms to our hearts content.

After awhile I realized it was getting pretty late, so I took myself away to run some errands that included my first round of Christmas shopping (how have we gotten this close to Christmas?!?). Pretty soon I needed to be over at the Saturday evening service my church holds because I was playing piano with the band. I cannot tell you how much fun it is to sit at a piano and just jam with some fine musicians, so I won't even try. I will just say that there is a whole dimension to worship that I am privileged to experience as a pianist and that I am grateful for. By the time the service was over and I got home I realized that I needed to finish preparing my sunday school lesson for the next day, or else I was going to have a crowd of unruly hooligans on my hands. (I typically try to avoid this at all costs, and as this was my first time teaching this particular crowd, I wanted to be good and prepared...)

The next morning found me at church with butterflies taking up my stomach. I had to laugh to myself--I had been on stage in front of crowds of people three times in the last week without a blink of a butterfly, and yet it was this gaggle of children that turned me into a nervous wreck. By the time we got under way however, I was feeling better. My trusty assistant had arrived, and we were able to take part in the worship before all the children were dismissed to their classes. (It is amazing what a little bit of perspective can do for your soul, and it is amazing what worship does for my perspective...) Our class went well, we had fun, and the children learned that the memory verse "doesn't rhyme!!!" (They seemed to be very concerned about this. Hopefully they learned some other things as well....)

After all was said and done, I hopped in my car and made my way to Harrisburg. (Enter, pictures.) Last year about this time, my friend Liz was about to have a baby and wanted to gather together our group of friends before life got a little hay-wire. This year, our friend Amanda is in the same situation and so Liz gathered us all again.
We (Marina & Rick, Dave & Amanda, Liz & Jeff, and myself) laughed, ate, and talked the afternoon away. We were highly amused by the children running about,

and were entertained by their various attempts at entertaining us. Here we have Joost, attempting to balance a pillow on his head.

Attempt 1: Failure.

Attempt 2: Failure.

Attempt 3: SUCCESS!!!

This led to confident re-enactments in various other locations (as in right next to me...) Unfortunately a picture does not capture the feat of walking into the living room whilst balancing; otherwise folks, you would see it here first.

When we realized with sadness that it was time to be parting (and I am not trying to be cute here--I do mean real sadness) we ladies gathered so that Rick our photographer could re-enact the picture he took of us at last year's dinner. It is sad that our time together is limited to such brief encounters, but it is a gift that those encounters are always a refreshment of the soul.

After hugs and good-bye wishes, I drove back to my cozy home, my white dishware, and my work. (I swear to you that I fully intended to make this a work weekend. Sometimes life just has a better idea.) Things got under way with a bang bright and early the next morning but it is ok: I am happy to report that this time next week I will be in New Jersey with my dear family, getting ready for some holiday. (Bring on the holiday.)

That's all kids--thanks for letting me tell you ;-)

Yes, I actually play the piano

Meet my lovely and dear friend Emily: The girl has a voice that you would covet, if coveting singing voices was your thing.

She is quite beautiful in every way.
Last night I had the good fortune to accompany her on her graduate recital. We performed a bit of Schumann, a variety of Bizet, some arias for which I became a one-woman orchestra.

(Let me take this moment to thank the most phenomenal page-turner I have ever had the pleasure to work with. Thanks to her there were no page-turning disasters. The only disasters were entirely my own--two moments of completely exposed, completely wrong, no-way-to-hide-it badness. In true Lauren fashion, when I mess up, I mess it up for realz.)

Emily and I finished up our portion, and then the University Choir that we work with marched onto the stage. They (along with our favorite Dr. Leach) accompanied Emily on a medley of spirituals that was extraordinarily exquisite. As I listened from backstage I realized that if I were sitting in the audience I would probably be quite moved, and have to wipe away a tear or two (or three or four, since in true Lauren fashion, when I tear up I tear up--for realz.)

When all was said and done, Em and I took our final bow.
It was a special moment, as this was more than a professionial relationship in action. This was a musical journey of preparation and performance, made meaningful by the fact that first and foremost we are on a journey of friendship. I was proud of Emily's accomplishment, and grateful to be a part of her special night.

Life is not worth living if you don't have people to share special moments with, and this night will go down in my books as evidence that my life is indeed worth it!

(Special thanks to Kim for the pictures! It is difficult to take pictures of yourself on stage, as you might well imagine...)