Things I Will Miss About Whitworth 1

So in reading back over my blog I said that I wouldn't have much time to post senior year. I was right. It's been crazy and challenging and exciting and overwhelming in so many different ways. There have been so many times this semester that I thought I was on the verge of giving up, like there was no way I could ever finish all the assignments that were due or be ready for performances or even CARE about either anymore. Yet I've made it. Somehow. And I seem to have a pretty good chance at coming out okay. I'm happy that I'll be enjoying a much lighter load for Jan-term and spring. I definitely don't want to do this again. But I've learned a lot about myself, and that's been a good thing.

With that said, I've been thinking about how different life is going to be next year after I graduate. Whitworth was my first experience of independence and has played a big part in who I currently am. It will be weird not to be part of this community anymore. I was reflecting today that while there are things I will miss about Whitworth specifically, a lot of the things I will miss are related to the fact that an episode is closing in my life. It's not Whitworth, it's being a student, being in that transition period between teenager and adult (why are there so many transition phases? I'm sure it has to be a modern thing), being in such a strong network of friends. Things like that. So here's a list of both Whitworth things and life things that I will miss next year. This is just looking back on the fall, so there will probably be a spring list too. Thus the "1" in the title.

1. Awesome friends, lots of them - Absolutely the hardest thing about graduation, whether I end up moving away or not, will be the fact that so many of the close relationships I have developed will fade in some way. It will be interesting who I stay in touch with and who gradually moves out of my life, and it's hard to think about. My friends at Whitworth have become an extension of family and in some ways know more about me than my actual family does. After we graduate we're all going to be in different places, whether it's back home or at a new job or overseas or what have you. I'm excited for all of us, but I'm going to miss people terribly.

2. Hanging out in the dorms - this is something that really died last year since I'm off campus now, but some of my best memories will involve impromptu dorm happenings. It's just guaranteed that when you shove a bunch of "youngsters" in a small space together crazy fun things are going to happen. Luckily at Whitworth most of those things are also safe.

3. Music - student recitals, concerts, student-ticket prices (REALLY going to miss that), symphony group, lessons, ensembles (even jazz ensemble!), being able to explore and play music as much as I want to and be considered normal at the same time AND be surrounded with people who are as crazy about it as I am.

4. Academia - Well, I am getting a little tired of the college atmosphere in this respect, but it is still neat to walk down the halls of Dixon and pass by lectures on Kant, metaphysics, child psychology, and economics to name a few. Sometimes I think I want to just sit outside the doors and soak it all in. Then I remember that even for a place populated by thoughtful, intelligent students like Whitworth that would be weird.

5. Professors - How awesome is it to have so many personal mentors whose job is to focus on giving you the tools to succeed? How awesome is it to have amazing personal role models and banks of information who are just an email away? Whitworth has some outstanding professors and I've developed close relationships with more than a few. My theory is that they start out as parent figures when you're a lost little freshman, so there's a special bond I think. Granted, I will NOT miss being the focus of so many people's vocation or the topic of meeting room discussions. I never want to know how auditions are discussed. Ever.

6. Brick buildings and pine trees - Whitworth is like the college campus version of a comfy old sweater. It has the academic feel, but it's a casual one.

7. Chapel - especially services like tonight's Candlelight Nativity. I have a difficult time encountering all the anti-Christian thought out there. I'm pretty strong in my faith (currently) but I always feel that I have to apologize or admit that I'm an ignorant idiot for being a Christian. To have the encouragement of a strong community of fellow Christians whose intelligence I also respect has been a huge blessing. To be able to openly express my faith without fear is another. To have a haven from homework and stress and a place to refocus on what's important is a third.

8. Being nocturnal - after a certain hour, everything becomes funny. Alternatively, homework also becomes more evil.

That's enough for now I think. Expect more to come. :-) Sometimes I think I do better with life if I can treat it as what is happening is already in the past. That's probably why I often narrate to myself in past tense. Weird I know.

"Your homework for the weekend is watch lots of movies"

Did I mention it was 3 degrees outside this morning? And yet there will always be at least one person on campus wearing shorts. I have a paper to write tonight, but here I am updating ye olde blog, which is the way of blogging I think. I had a lovely 3-day weekend though, with no homework to boot, which is probably part of the reason I have lost all motivation. And I was doing so very well.

But the weekend was a very good one and I did heed my professor's advice and watch lots of movies. The first of which being Groundhog Day with my podmates. Since Sally's arrival things have been much more harmonious in our pod. I think it's an after-affect of trying to make Sally feel at home, we're all growing closer as a result. I can't imagine what it would be like to transfer, so I've been trying to do my bit to help her transition smoothly. Luckily her and Anna are getting along very well. At times I'm reminded of the antics my first year in BJ as we all got to know each other.

Exhausted from cross country skiing, I slept for 12 hours Friday night. I awoke at 10:00 to find my roommate still slumbering above me. At least, I was pretty sure she was up there. I can't always tell. I think at least once I've been creeping around in the dark when I was the only one in the room, but I like to play it safe. :-) I learned later that she didn't arise until 12:00, which is surprisingly something I haven't done in a very long time. It was one of the loveliest Saturdays. I ate a leisurely (I've never noticed before how close this word is to the word "liege," makes sense though) anyhow, ate breakfast at a liege-like pace and finished Over Sea, Under Stone, a children's book by Susan Cooper that I wish I had known of when I was younger.

I was inspired by Over Sea, Under Stone to go to the library in search of Le Morte d'Arthur and got completely carried away and checked out 4 books. I always get carried away at libraries. I wish the time you spent reading books didn't "count" towards actual time spent in the day. But it does. So I always lose my head and come home with piles of books, most of which I will never finish but simply have the enjoyment of anticipating and looking at and turning about in my hands. Right beside Le Morte d'Arthur was Tolkien's edition of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and then I remembered that book on films that Professor Neder had recommended... It just gets completely out of hand.

You know, I haven't even completely read The Once and Future King, and I'm trying to wolf down it's source material. I've tried a couple of times. The first was in high school, at exactly the same that I was in my first CYT production, Robin Hood. I appeared tremendously intelligent and geeky by knowing all sorts of things about jousts and such. But by the time I got past The Sword in the Stone and got to Arthur's adulterous love affairs my 14-year-old sensibilities were quite shocked and I refused to read the trash. But during one summer at CO-AG I was desperate for reading material and a little more grown up besides and I came within about 10 pages of the ending but I never did finish it. I think summer ended. And now, if I ever want to finish it, I shall simply have to read the whole thing over again, because that's how I am with books.

I really should stop using this blog as a journal but I feel like at least I'm recording something. I mean, it's really nice to be able to look back on freshman year and remember all those experiences in such vivid detail, so on we plunge. I had tremendous fun accompanying Katrina reading through music from the French musical Le Roi Soleil. Katrina's obsessed (if you're reading this now, hi), but I can't really blame her. The music is quite good. I felt like such a show off, but I was at the same time extremely pleased at my improved sight-reading. I was tearing through this stuff and I'd never even heard it before. Progress! In between songs I generally was a terrible show off and messed about on the piano while Katrina decided what to sing next. And you know something? It sounded good. Like I knew what I was doing. Like I had complete control of the piano, which I don't. Yet. Actually, complete control's kind of a utopian ideal, but it's something to reach for and not near so far off as a couple years ago.

Our music making was cut short by a scheduled viewing of Northanger Abbey. The new adaptation is quite wonderful. I highly recommend. J.J. Fields does a marvelous job as Henry Tilney and Felicity Jones plays Catherine perfectly. It's almost made me give up my dreams of travel though. Explanation: I hate the way I talk. It's complicated. It partially comes of sharing a room with a French major, who is I understand only trying to help me but I'm afraid it's a lost cause. I've always had trouble with my "a" sounds. I can only really distinctly hear 2 when in English there are 3. So, for instance, I can't pronounce "bag" properly, or "Bath" which is how this rant got started. This among other things makes it apparent that my accent is always going to be dreadful, except when speaking German because for some reason that's almost like a mother tongue to me. Anyhow, every once in a while I will try and be intelligent and clever by mentioning such and such a book or quoting something only to find I sound like a complete ass because I can't say the da#*ed thing properly. So I take short cuts whenever I can, which partially requires me translating foreign things into English, but it's humiliating in any case.

Okay, onwards. Sunday was similarly lazy. I got to see most of Le Roi Soleil which Katrina has on DVD. Slight drawback, it's all in French with no subtitles. There is also something particularly intimidating and alienating about being surrounded by a bunch of friends who are speaking another language. Obviously, it was a French class activity and it was my choice to come, so I'm not complaining, but I'm just observing. I enjoyed the music and between songs I made up my own plot. It involved Ursula from The Little Mermaid, and a plot to submerge all of France, and Dracula, and Tinker Bell, and Ariel was in love with Louis XIV... Ummmm, yeah. I suppose Louis looks fairly attractive here, if somewhat like a girl (which was of course simply the fashion at the time). But I was under the impression that in real life he was somewhat like Ben Franklin, not so attractive and a little on the chubby side but still quite the ladies' man.

Monday was... Well, I can't quite remember what I did do. But I had a fun time playing Apples to Apples with the girls in 204 during which "carnies" were paired with "handsome," "meat cleavers" were considered "courageous" and "my love life" was deemed by myself to be "miserable." :-) Also watched several episodes of Monk, which is a wonderfully Sherlockian. And that's pretty much it and probably all we have time for. If you read all this, you're either a really good friend or a really bored soul. My prayers for you.

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Now playing: Le Roi Soleil Cast - S'Aimer Est Interdit
via FoxyTunes

In Other News

In case you're wondering what's really going on in these parts, my brother and sister-in-law have officially moved in to Great Uncle Ed's old place. They had a house-warming party today and they've really done wonders to the interior.

I remember visiting the place about twice a year in my childhood. Once on Halloween, when I would receive buckets of candy from all my relatives in the country because they had no one else to give it to, and at Christmas when we would borrow the axe from Ed before going to chop down our Christmas tree. By that time Ed was getting up in years, so the only impression I ever had of him was of an older man who stooped and hobbled along on rather long, bandy Olson legs. I loved Uncle Ed.

It was always a somewhat surreal experience. Uncle Ed was a bachelor his whole life and not exactly an expert on interior decor. The back room was always full of stacks of beer bottles, of which Ed would always offer my dad one. This was the only time I ever saw my dad drink beer, and it was a little shocking (gasp!) but I knew it was okay because it was with Ed. Then we would move to the dining room where Uncle Ed would reminisce in a barely audible voice while you would try to shout back answers when he asked you anything because he was so hard of hearing from all those years on farm machinery. I loved Uncle Ed.

I always thought the dining room was the ugliest room I had ever seen. It's white walls and gold-spattered white floor were almost blinding and reminded me of the school cafeteria. The furniture looked like it belonged in a poorly funded futuristic sci-fi movie. The chairs in particular were so hideous that even at the tender age of seven it felt weird just to sit on one.

Uncle Ed had a different way of doing things. He was probably the most practical man you'd ever meet. He used to have, I'm told, a beautiful solid oak table that adorned the dining room. But he threw it over a cliff because "it wobbled." My relatives have never completely forgiven that. So you can imagine what kind of a state the house was in when my brother and Jenny decided to buy it from Uncle Jon (or however we're related, I'm not sure), who had inherited it.

Since I'm basically a generation in and of myself, I've sort of watched the older generation pass on. It's kind of sad. Uncle Ed was the last of "the brothers" of my grandfather's generation. With them has gone, it seems, the whole concept of the family farm and my family's livelihood for the past four generations. But we're Swedish, so we shrug it off. These things happen. It's the farmer's mantra.

At the same time, I personally don't think farming in any form is the life for me. I know what it is and it's not fun. You have to have that special connection to it, or you won't last long. And it was fulfilling to see the old house passed on to Eric and Jenny, ready for a whole new generation of Olsons. There's enough of the family up there, I think they should try to be an independent state. I don't know if they will keep the house, it's in pretty bad shape. But what they have done with it so far, while they save their money for perhaps something better, is amazing. The relatives and the community seem to approve. And Uncle Jon was happy he didn't have to sell it to "some Jerkwater" who would put up a lot of fences and make it difficult to move machinery.

I Have Returned!

Very sorry for my long absence. I'm not exactly motivated to fight with my home computer's slow connection during Christmas break and then I went to Europe. I'm setting up a separate blog for that experience.

Anyhow, since I got back I have managed to get the cold that everyone on the trip had. My roommate had one as well when I got back here so really I didn't have a chance. I enjoyed my week at home and really wasn't ready to go back to college and face the world again, but I'm coping. This semester is going to be tough though. Tough though. Interesting word combination. I have my first upper-division course, Reporting for Mass Media, and though the prof is nice it's going to be a challenge. I'm looking forward to German again, and taking Ear Training and Music Theory IV (and jazz piano) from Brent, who's returned from sabbatical. I have an Intro to Business class that is very interesting but also a pain. It's the kind of thing I'd rather audit but I can't because it's required for my business track.

I had a rather disappointing experience with classical lessons. I was so close to getting a new teacher, and at the last minute it didn't work out because of scheduling. Apparently Bev is really booked this semester and she didn't have room for me (she blames the fact that I didn't sign up for a time early enough, but I was REGISTERED. I figured you had to leave enough spaces for all your registered students.) But I didn't care because I almost got to take from someone else, but she only had room during my morning classes and there's absolutly no way to switch them around. I didn't want to approach her about maybe staying an extra half hour and in the end Bev offered to do so, but now this will be really awkward. Not only will we be really pressed for time, she'll blame me for this extra time she has to spend. Oh boy.

On the positive side I am now in Pirate Band! It's our concert band. Unlike wind symphony or orchestra you don't have to audition, so soon I will be back on french horn.

My dearest Katrina is off on the France study program and so I must endure the semester without her. It's already a little lonely. I thought I might get back in touch with my Jenkins East girls when I found out Smac was in my business class, but she ended up dropping it because she got into another class she was waitlisted for... And so I must rely on my fellow music majors to keep me from becoming a complete hermit. I'm just not naturally social and the fact that I'm taking 18 credits (back in laureate society! yes!) and in the music building a lot doesn't help matters. But it's impossible to get too isolated here.

Well, this post must be short I fear. I'm starving having not had dinner and I need to make German flashcards and maybe get some sleep. Tomorrow's a busy day. I need to buy my brother his birthday present (a jazz fake book). He got a mandolin for Christmas from his wife and so we have a lot of pictures of him playing it during Christmas day.

Did I ever tell you about holidays in my family? I don't think so. When I was growing up we generally spent the holidays with my mom's side. My dad's side isn't really into it all that much. Anyhow, what with my aunt being a violinist in the symphony, my dad having played in a bluegrass band, and my mom having sung in WSU's choir there was always a lot of music. Folk music to be exact. Janey never played, but she always called on my dad to get out his guitar. Soon both my parents would be playing and we would be singing various songs like Grandma's Feather Bed or, gosh my memory escapes me. My dad always does a rendition of Watermelon Wine and I'm determined to record it next year. Eventually my brother learned guitar so he would play too. As we grew up and my siblings went to college and Janey passed away this kind of died. But recently my cousin Bob has been reviving it at his place. It forces my dad to play guitar again and this year my mom accompanied on another guitar, my sister played piano, and my brother played the mandolin he'd gotten that morning. My brother's pretty much a genius.

Where was I going with this? Oh, I was looking through family pictures and I found one of my brother messing around with a mandolin, only he's like eight. So I'm picking up a copy of this year's Christmas pictures at my cousin's house tomorrow. That way we'll have a then and now of my brother playing mandolin. And then hopefully I'm going to the Symphony. And then home. Busy night.

Okay, now I really must leave you but I'll try and dig up a song that turns up at our holiday gatherings every year.

I'm proud to live in old West Idaho
Them other places can't compare with us.
But now I must relate what's happenin' in our state;
It's really causin' quite a fuss.

CHORUS
Oh, the interstate is comin' through my outhouse
They tell me I'm on their right-of-way
I'll sell today and I'll get rich but the path will end at the highway ditch
I'm makin' my last visit there today

Granny says to cancel Sears and Robuck;
Tell Uncle Sam to hurry up our dough.
With all this progress comin' we'll change to inside plumbin'
And shorten up our early mornin' stroll.

Uncle Ben has got a case of miseries;
A hikin' to that outhouse makes him tired.
But he'll be a gittin' better; he'll be an inside setter
When they install that cesspool in our yard.

CHORUS
Oh, the interstate is a comin' through my outhouse.
They tell me I'm on their right-of-way.
I'll sell today and I'll get rich but my path will end at the highway ditch.
I'm makin' my last visit there today.

Them engineers made 47 surveys;
They said to put it there and that was that.
They'll bring in a big steamroller and flatten my two-holer
But I'll keep right on votin' Democrat.

Someday when I grow old and feeble;
Some moonlit night I'll wake up feelin' strange.
I'll get up from my nap and stroll down my old path
And wake up in a great big interchange.

CHORUS
Oh, the interstate is a comin' through my outhouse.
They tell me I'm on their right-a-way.
I'll sell today and I'll get rich but my path will end at the highway ditch.
I'm makin' my last visit there today.

It's really not the same without the music, but you get the idea.

OH, and by way of my current musical offering we have part of Mozart's requiem. Dies Irae. Doesn't really go with this post does it? I guess you can ponder the diversity of music.

Aunt Janey

I went to the Symphony's opening night (guess who else tagged along... Actually I think it was Katrina's idea) which was fun. Khachaturian piano concerto. We went to the little "reception" they have afterwards because we ran into Laura's (yes the Laura who got married) parents. Her dad plays french horn. Anyhow, it was crazy because a lot of my profs are in the Symphony. Strauch (who's leading my Europe trip), and Rick Westrick (whom I met at Laura's wedding and who was as enthusiastic about my piano playing as ever :-D), and Dr. Phil. That's not really the point though. The point is I found out there was going to be a benefit concert for the Ayer-Blegen endowed chair.

Jane Blegen was my aunt. She was married to my Mom's brother and definitely a very important force in my life. Her mother was Evelyn Ayer, who I also got to see on holidays and the like. Both of them played with the Symphony as second-violinists.

I have to postcards from "aunt Janey" on the door of my room at college right now. I discovered them when looking through the various mathoms we keep around the house. The back of one says "Dear Heidi: Thank you for all the nice pictures you mailed me! They are all over my refrigerator door & they look so nice! Hope you had fun dancing tonite! Love, Aunt Janey." There's a painting of a man playing violin and a girl dancing ballet on the front. The other says "Dear Heidi, Thank you for your pictures - They are on my refrigerator now & I think of you each day: Love, Aunt Janey XXOO. P.S. This card is for you to keep. It is a print of a famous painting! P.S. Would you like to go to Sym-funnies? (I already found out you cannot this time - maybe later in Feb?!)" They make me smile every time I see them.

And I remember going to those Sym-funnies concerts. I was probably a little ancy like any other little kid, but I remember loving them! I remember they had the "instrument petting zoo" where you got to try out all these different instruments and when I was 11 I felt so proud that I could play the trumpet a little because I'd just started band. Aunt Janey is the person who introduced me to Pink Martini, and who invited me to the jazz violin concert with Johnny Frigo (which I loved, although I can't remember who played before him but that other guy was my favorite). She had offered to teach me violin but by then I was already taking piano and not really inspired by the violin because my siblings didn't play it. Now I wish I could have, but I'm a pianist and that's how it goes, I can't imagine not being a pianist.

More than introducing me to music in many ways, I associate her with the holidays, like Christmas and Thanksgiving. We would always go over to Aunt Janey and Uncle Brad's every Christmas and see all the Blegens. She was always the last to sit down because she was running around getting the butter or the salt or whatever had been forgotten. Her brother Larry would get so exasperated. "Jane, sit down and eat!" he would say, and we would all look at her untouched plate of food on the table and wonder how cold it was by now.

By the time I was old enough to really know her she already had skin cancer, so I don't remember when she was diagnosed, I just remember that she had it. She got it treated and it never seemed too serious, to me anyways, I never noticed anything wrong. But one year something went wrong, they didn't catch a growth or something and it went deeper. She told us at Christmas, I think the last time we had Christmas at her and Uncle Brad's house. The last memory I have of her, before she got really sick that is, is at an outdoor restuarant at a local park. She gave me a CD of The Four Seasons and I'm so glad that I'll always be able to associate my loving, vibrant aunt with that piece of music.

As you can probably guess, she did pass away; she died, if you prefer not to use euphemisms. She was such a large part of the family, it was strange to go to my cousin's for Christmas instead, and I think the thing I miss most is Larry yelling at her to sit down and eat. :-)

So I was really excited about this benefit concert. I remember when the Symphony announced the Ayer-Blegen endowed chair. They had a special concert for it. I don't remember the composer, but I remember that I was in junior high and definitely a music nerd by then, so I was fascinated by the slightly more abstract music. Anyhow, back to the present, my parents visited me a couple weeks ago and noticed I'd kept the flyer for the benefit concert. My Mom was going to be out of town for her job, but Dad ended up taking me. I felt like the only person under the age of 60 (although this was not entirely true) and I got to see some of my family. Best of all, my old piano teacher, Mrs. Presley, from when I first started taking was there! She was absolutely great, my brother had visited her recently and she was thrilled to hear I was taking jazz from Brent! I will have to go visit her soon. Don't let me forget. Jaen's sister, Julie played the violin for the concert, accompanied by none other than Mrs. Presley's son (who is a famous local pianist in his own right). It was great fun and rather fitting for me to see these two people, who were each connected to my own musical education, (Julie through Jane, and Greg through Mrs. Presley), playing together.

I'm afraid I can't tell you as much about Evelyn. I do remember one story that Clarey (Jane's father) told us before he passed away. I only remember it vaguely so I hope I'm not too off. He had gotten a band together but he needed a band leader. He knew that band leaders played the violin and he knew Evelyn somehow (they weren't married yet) so he asked her to lead it. She refused. So he made up flyers advertising the band and listing her as the leader. She was furious! But she did it anyways. She had to. :-)

Was this an appropriate thing to post on a blog? Probably not. It's probably better suited for a private diary or something of that nature. I feel a little wrong including it here. And yet I feel like I should be telling these stories. They're important stories, they give some idea of these people who are now gone. So thanks for reading.