Fort Lauderdale |
Books snd Bubbles |
Fort Lauderdale |
Books snd Bubbles |
A car behind me honked impatiently as I continued driving up the Butte. That question nagged at me until I flipped a U at the next intersection. I had to get an answer. I spotted that hair, still floating down the sidewalk. I pulled into a parking spot, rolled the window down, and yelled, "Hey! Eileen." With those words, a friendship was born, still vibrantly alive 38 years later.
Eileen and I first met when we were thrown together in an undergraduate class, History of Theatre, a required class I put off until my senior year. I dreaded the long hours of research requiring me to spend countless silent hours in a stuffy library rather than boisterous nights under the dance floor lights of my favorite hangout. Eileen, on the other hand, welcomed this class like a mom welcoming her first born home for fall break. When I walked into class the first day, there she was, front row center, notebook open, red hair and smile illuminating the podium like stage lights. Throughout those sixteen weeks, as I struggled to stay awake during the lectures and toiled to complete the extensive research projects, Eileen waltzed through the course, smiling brilliantly as Professor Wheeler frequently read aloud her exemplary work. She never once walked in late or missed a class. We didn't interact much during History of World Theatre, and when the semester ended, our paths veered in different directions. Until the sidewalk sighting.
High School musicals sure have come a long way since my directing days in Nebraska at St. Agnes Academy or St. Paul Public High School. Case in point--Lakewood High School's recent production of Anastasia. Oh my, the staging, the set, and THE TALENT. This isn't a review of this production, but I can't go on without mentioning the vocal and acting talent of Kate Yorga (Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna), Morgan Fritzler (Anya/Anastasia), Noah Schuster (Demitri), and Ethan Hoover (Vlad).The immense amount of talent in these four young adults is mind boggling, and a whole world of possibilities awaits them.
I'm here to rave about a budding new talent, Madison Lee Schultz. Madi, one of our Royal Babies (see here) (and here) and my first-ever great niece, stole the show as young Anastasia and melted our hearts with her innocent portrayal of Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia. Could a first acting role be more perfect for a Royal Baby??
Madi auditioned for this part last fall. I saw a video of her audition, and there was no doubt in my mind that she would become a member of the cast. This little girl can project. She sang "Do You Want to Build a Snowman," all alone, on a huge stage, with no microphone. Her voice filled the auditorium. She got the part, alright, and we couldn't wait for her big debut.If I thought I wasn't going to cry, that was put to rest right there. Our sweet Madi is always looking out for everyone,
Madi was one of the first actors to take the stage. Appearing in the prologue as young Anastasia in a flashback scene, she confidently and convincingly played her part. Enough so that tears flowed, not just my own, but a quick glance down my row revealed several audience members dabbing at their eyes. She danced elegantly with Tsar Nicholas (her dad) and sang sweetly, "Once upon a December," with the Dowager (her Nana). Her heartbreaking cry "Nana!" ended her first scene as the Dowager left town for Paris, but not before leaving little Anastasia a special music box to remember her.
Photos with blue background courtesy of Lakewood High yearbook staff. |
A few fans of Madison Lee |
So much heaviness hangs over my city as 2021 comes to a close. Mother Nature showed her monstrous side, sending hurricane-force winds to turn sparks into flames and flames into a destructive inferno that ravaged the Denver suburbs of Superior and Louisville. I have a pit in my stomach thinking about the six hundred homes burned to the ground, the families left with nothing. Where's the good? Where's the hope? I was glued to local news channels all night looking for something. It wasn't there. Until the morning dawned. As videos and pictures of destruction filled tv screens and social media sites, there it was. Hope. Families gathering together expressing gratitude that they were alive, vowing to rebuild. Communities coming together offering housing, clothing, food, money, comfort. The governor and local authorities announcing everyone was accounted for, no lives were lost, calling this a New Year's miracle.
As survival stories begin to replace the horrific images, true miracles become clear--the page of a prayer book in the midst of rubble, a horse running to safety propelled by pure instinct, the understanding that nothing is more precious than family.
A horse runs through Grasso Park in Superior as smoke and fires approach. Photo: Helen H. Richardson/The Denver Post via Getty Images |
Nebraska fam |
Mom and Roger |
Colorado fam |
Colorado and Nebraska fam |
My schedule |
Oh Violet! |
Miss you, Jess! |
Happy New Year!
New books and a Christmas Coke (champagne doesn't feel right) |
October 12, 2020
Dear Kari,
I don’t know what I did to deserve you, my beautiful friend. Sometimes I am in awe just thinking about that. What do people do without Kari Laniel in their lives?
How do they get through a happy hour? I love our happy hours where we take on the huge, and I mean huge, problems in education and politics. And share stories and pictures of our families and friends. And laugh our heads off about the silliest things. And cry our eyes out over our dogs and cats.
How do they watch movies in a theatre without someone to hold their hand when they’re about to sob? Or sing out loud when any Bruce song is in the background?
How do they even get through life without you checking in with a text? Or reading one of your blog posts, captivatingly written each time in a style your own. Or opening the mailbox to find a perfect card with a perfect message. Or receiving a gift from you like mermaids, or Christmas Coke straws or Royal Baby word searches or sweet journals complete with prompts. Hand-picked, straight from the heart every time.
How do they survive one single day at work without going into your room to vent, to celebrate, or for a hug? Nobody can hug like you. Nobody.
How do they watch football?? Whether college football at a Husker bar or a live Bronco game, to be in your presence and witness the frustration, anger, suspense, energy, and pure joy of the game is nothing short of magic.
I know I could not exist without you in my life, Kari Laniel. I thank God that he made our paths connect.
Happy 50thbirthday, my friend. May your day be as beautiful as you are.
Love,
Cheryl
I hope you saw the Christmas Star last week. How our dark world needed the light of that Star of Wonder. Let me be about the 200 millionth person to say good riddance to 2020 and all the woe it bestowed upon the universe.
I could see The Star right from my back patio. Mom and I wrapped up in blankets as we gazed in wonder at the brightness of Jupiter and Saturn aligned so closely they appeared as one. I sat in absolute awe, thinking that this very celestial alignment might have been followed by the Wise Men all the way to Bethlehem to witness a miracle. That thought filled me with so much hope, and I vowed right then and there to leave all the darkness behind as the year nears its end. I'm taking nothing but light into 2021, leaving all negativity behind, looking for love and miracles to abound.
Not that 2020 didn't have any of that. It did. For one thing, when I realized the pandemic was going to last longer than any of us wanted, I kicked it in gear. I found new avenues to explore to take my mind off missing my brunches and happy hours and trips and family and friends. I got busy.
I taught myself how to knit! Something possessed me to order a knitting kit--a simple cup cozy. The only thing, though, is it came with just the yarn, needles, and pattern but no instructions on how to actually knit. Cast on? Knit? Bind off? i was clueless. I turned to YouTube for help, and sure enough, there are thousands of videos about knitting. I learned how to cast on (easy!) and the basic knit stitch (easy!) and the bind off (not that easy). I completed the cup cozy, and in the process, I found other beginner projects to try.
Like these HEART FACE SCRUBBIES 💖. I already learned how to cast on and knit (sort of) and I just needed to learn how to purl. YouTube didn't let me down. These heart face scrubbies were easy, quick, and fun to make.
The Royal Nieces wear their leg warmers well💖 |
my humble iPhone photo that stops me in my tracks each time I look at it Happy New Year, my friends. Cheers to a brighter 2021. |
There's nothing I love more than FaceTiming with our Royal Babies. Seeing their innocent faces and bright smiles is all I need to lift my spirits sky high. I never know where the conversation will go; the spontaneity of a child is inimitable. Lately, though, I've noticed a common fork our conversations seem to take. After catching up with school and being silly, we talk about how much we miss seeing each other. They say they wish they could come to Denver. And they all say they wish this virus would just go away. I say meeee toooo.
Because this virus. It just won't stop. And it's exhausting trying to stay ahead of it. I'm doing my part; I'm following our state's guidelines and policies--wearing masks and socially distancing and washing my hands and staying put when possible. I'm trying not to whine, not to deny, not to blame. And, I'm just trying to stay sane.
One of my favorite sanity-saving things to do is just go for a simple drive. And so I planned a little half-day outing to my favorite sunflower field. I set off with my Sonic Coke for refreshment, my phone for my camera, my mom and Sunshine for company, and a summer playlist for background music.
As we approached the turnoff, I felt an almost-forgotten lightness. I couldn't wait to see those happy, bright-yellow, flower faces. Except, when we arrived, I wasn't seeing any yellow. Anywhere. Instead, I saw this
My heart sank. I was smack in the middle of Eliot's Waste Land, staring at "fear in a handful of dust." I was driving though Fitzgerald's Valley of Ashes, "where ashes grow like wheat." Nothing occupied this space but brown and gray, dirt and dust, shock and disappointment.
Last year, this field took my breath away:
I had a "that does it" moment right then and there. I burst into tears. I whined. I blamed. I denied. I hate this damn virus. How can we be in this situation? Why can't people just stay home or wear masks? We need leaders. I want to go shopping and travel to a beach and happy hour with friends. I MISS MY FAMILY!
Then I took a deep breath, dried my eyes, blew my nose, and turned my car around. I heard my little friend Chloe's voice on that drive home. Look for the good. Look for the good. And there it was--goodness everywhere. A sky so blue the ocean must surely be around the corner. A sun so bright no shadows dared to loom anywhere. My mom so full of concern and love nothing else mattered.
Since that drive, I learned that sunflower fields need to rest every several years, giving them a chance to rejuvenate, replenish their oxygen and nitrogen supplies, hydrate, and rid themselves of pests.
I couldn't see the miracle hiding in that dusty sunflower field. I didn't hear its whispers. My heart wasn't there. But I hear it now, letting me in on its secret:
Our world is a tired sunflower field.
A pest has taken over its beauty.
It needs to rejuvenate, rehydrate, replenish
with oxygen and nitrogen
so it can breathe.
It needs to rest,
for a year, for two years.
And then,
refreshed,
it will bloom again.