Birthday Camp

Did I say birthday camp?  Oops, what I meant to say was piano camp.  I guess this reflects my underlying resentment of piano camp for usurping my birthday this year.

Luckily for me, my piano camp buddies treated me like royalty.  (Yes, I am wearing a made-just-for-me crown.  The paint is still in my hair....)

It was actually quite a treat, because some of my favorite people are included in the category "piano camp buddy".

Case in point:

Kristen.

The other half of my brain.  Literally.

(Case in point: We wore the same colors three days out of five with absolutely no planning, and ordered the exact same food both times we went out to eat.  Not to mention all the times I think "I should say...." just as Kristen is saying it for me...)

Then there's my dearest Mrs. Noll--the maker of giant card and crown--who knows how to bring fun to all situations.  (The picture is not her best, but can anyone explain why she is holding cymbals? I can: To make life hilarious.
WE LOVE HER.)

And then how could I forget the campers? Tolerant of my 5 minute reminders that it was--in fact--my birthday, they made us laugh.  They made us smile.  They made us jump up and down and scream until we got the sound we wanted from their little fingers.

As I listened to them play their little hearts out so beautifully in the closing recital today, and as I reflected on why they like to come to piano camp when all we make them do is work (and then work some more), I realized something: 
Finding beauty in life is hard work, but it is essential.
It is "doing gravity".
(Favorite quote of the week: "We do gravity here")  
And so, my final conclusion:  
Sacrificing my birthday week to be with these good friends was not a sacrifice, but a great big giant-sized gift.

Let me not forget to mention...

Have I mentioned it's my birthday weekend?
Have I mentioned I've got this great family?

Have I mentioned that traditionally these two things go together--or should anyway?

Since this weekend was also a little thing called Arts Fest in State College, my family (minus the newly-married members) made their way my way for a 24-hour visit.  (Can you find some of us in this 1 of 390  pictures Keith took with his fancy camera?)

We did typical festival things, like consuming festival food...

...indulging in freshly squeezed lemonade

...and browsing the booths of interesting items.

When we'd had our fill of downtown, we headed to Meyer Dairy for some sitting in the lovely shady breeze and some ice cream.  We needed to rest up--

We had another fair to get to, after all.

(Have I mentioned there's another fair held a town away on Arts Fest weekend?)

We wandered, browsing and talking, until it was time to get over to the local historical tavern for our evening refreshment.

(Have I mentioned we love local historical taverns?)

We ate well.

We laughed much.

We reveled in the opportunity to be together.

Our evening was far from over, however.  

Because have I mentioned--a birthday is not a birthday without blueberry cobbler?

Marisa and I had work to do.

We donned our aprons (in honor of Dave & Kara, who gave me the aprons, and were missed...)

We gathered ingredients, and mixed them together.

It seemed to take us awhile...

...somehow we just kept getting sidetracked.

Eventually, however, there was blueberry cobbler.

There were a few gifts.  (Much appreciated ones, despite this horrible face I'm making.  It's no wonder I have wrinkles in my forehead these days.....)

And there was the requisite game.  

(Have I mentioned that you cannot spend time with Keith and not play a game?  Especially once he finds the game in your living room that you brought out of your childhood, and which he remembers playing for hours on end?  And yes, we played the Strawberry Shortcake game on the weekend of my 32nd birthday--have I mentioned there is no age-limit on reliving childhood memories?)

It was a great day.

And have I mentioned?  Because if I haven't, let me not forget:

I am one privileged, grateful, joyful girl.

Treats

July 12th marks the anniversary of my birth.  I love the anniversary of my birth.  I love it because it is a reminder to me to celebrate my life--the woman God made me, the blessings He continuously gives me, and the Purpose He has for me in His kingdom.  It is a reminder to give praise and thanks for the year behind, and to live well in the year to come.  And--in all honesty--it is a reminder to continue to live, when sometimes I don't quite see the point.

Now, included in those blessings mentioned above are the multitude of friends I have who catch my vision, and who want to help in the celebration--the reminding.  (If you don't have friends who want to get in on the vision of celebrating life--get some.)  And so, my birthday weekend began yesterday morning with this little scenario:

Lauren: laying in bed, contemplating life, being lazy, when the phone rings
Heather (via phone): "What are you doing right now?"
Lauren: "I'm laying in bed, contemplating life, being lazy"
Heather: "Well, come outside to your front porch--there's a surprise for you there!"
Lauren: "What?"
Heather: "Come outside to your front porch!"
Lauren: "Why?" (She is a little slow on the uptake, this Lauren)

Turns out, the "Why" was this green tea latte, delivered by Heather and another lovely friend, Tracy.  My "You are special" radar hit the roof, and thus my day began.

It was just the beginning of course--a promise sealing the deal that there was more to come.  Later that evening found me at Hi-Way Pizza with Heather and Tracy, indulging in yet another treat:

Heather: "Do you want to get an appetizer?"
Lauren: "Sure!"
[moment of silence and reflection]

Lauren (in a high-pitched squeal):
"I never get appetizers when I go out to eat!!"

Add to the list of treats, however, the additional facts that a) Going out to eat, in and of itself, is a treat and b) Going out to eat with these two friends in particular and having time and space for intellectual, deep, spiritual, graceful, and life affirming conversation is a rarity.  As in--it has never happened before.  As in--it was lovely.

But it didn't end with dinner! Next up? Over to the chocolate aisle in Wegmans, for a dark chocolate dream.  We perused the selections carefully, and chose what we felt to be most indicative of "celebrating the anniversary of a birth".  We took it to the car.  We looked at it lovingly.

We proceeded to take "chocolate communion"--a completely irreverent term that somehow seemed to fit the moment, as my friends broke off their square and prayed a small blessing over me for my year to come.  Heather prayed for Love.

Tracy prayed for Peace.

I prayed for Joy.

But guess what? Most apparent to me, as I dwelt in the love of these friends?  I've already got it all.

Barukh attah Adonai

Independence

Let's think about the reality of Independence in my life for a moment (this is my thinking face...):

I can do pretty much anything I want to, whenever I want to.  On the Independence Scale, my life hits near the top.

Don't think I haven't noticed, or that I am not grateful.

The interesting thing about Independence, however, is that it's a bit of a misnomer.  Even with utmost freedom, there are limitations.  In fact, the independence to make one choice means that other choices have been limited.  And those limitations are un-movable.

For instance, due to the independence we have to engage in luxurious summer travel, the Summer of Heather and Lauren has taken a serious hit.  Apart for over 3 weeks, with spotty phone communication to boot, SOHL has suffered.  A limitation. Until yesterday, when SOHL re-convened in full force.

First, there was the pool. A hot 4th of July day calls for lots of swimming, as does the rulebook of SOHL.

Even in independence, there is always a rulebook.  Otherwise, there would just be chaos.

(There is never any chaos in SOHL...)

When we had had our fill of water and sun, we returned home for Operation BBQ.

Sadly, no pictures captured this event, but I'm thinking that your own Independence has allowed you to experience one or two of these in your lifetime, so use your imagination. Picture a converging of many good friends, watermelon, and lots of  grilled meat.  That's about all you need for a good time.

The good times were rolling right along until it was suddenly time to depart, in order to get prime seating for the fireworks!!!

You cannot celebrate independence without fireworks.  

Or popsicles. 

Popsicles are important, because here's another limitation to independence--since you have the opportunity to be master of your own time, sometimes you find yourself killing it.     

So it's a good thing that time can be killed with a variety of amusing things--taking silly pictures of each other

(and yourself...),

talking, laughing, solving the problems of the world,

reminding each other of what's important...

and sparklers.  Of course.  

And then, before you know it, there are fireworks.  Just booming away at you.  Causing you to feel like there are some things that really have no explanation for being necessary, other than that they bring you together with the people you love.  

Because here's the really tricky thing about Independence:

It is limited by absolute dependence on those people you love,

and that's the most freeing thing of all.

This is my life: