My year as Grand Organist, Order of the Eastern Star, State of Louisiana, has come to a successful close. It was a huge amount of music to perform. Interestingly, there was a similarity to playing in a lounge: everyone talked through much of the prelude music for each session. That’s 105 minutes of music right there! As a musician, you have to be philosophic about “talk-over”. You’re putting your best out there, giving your all, and being ignored by many (most?).
When I was little, my mother practiced marches for Eastern Star, and I galloped around the living room rug. I wanted nothing more than to be able to play that glorious music. (Scot Joplin’s ragtime marches evoke the same joy for me.) I begged for piano lessons for a year; when I was three years old, she gave in and let me begin. Although I was trained as a classical pianist, this week’s performance goes back to the roots of my love affair with music. This one’s a tribute to all the sacrifices my mother made to give me 15 years of piano lessons. I only wish I could have achieved it in her lifetime.
Linda commented that she’d certainly recommend taking all the music I owned. Well, Linda, I left a bit at home, but there was a triumph from taking all that I did. Several years ago I attended a friendship exchange in Texas, where they were selling (among other things) a march written for Renee Ofton, who is about to become the international head of Eastern Star. I read the music, and it was a good, catchy tune, so I bought it. I have used it a lot since, so it was in the back of one of my music notebooks. I had no idea Mrs. Ofton would be visiting our grand session this year! When she was presented, I whipped out her march and played it. Yes! I couldn’t leave the piano, but DH was kind enough to take the march to Mrs. Ofton and get her very gracious autograph. (I know, you’re mostly knitters, not musicians… so think the Yarn Harlot complimenting your socks!)
I have a few pictures to share with you, but they are the ones that were taken with my camera. DH took many beautiful pictures of me in my formals with his camera. Unfortunately, he left the camera under his chair the last evening. It may find its way home yet, as our members had to clear the hall of all our decorations. Fingers crossed!
One of the perks of being a grand officer is getting a fancy door tag for your room. It takes so little to make me happy!
Here is a picture of me, along with DD and DH, at the Saturday night banquet. Yes, I can get dressed up! 
Finally, here is a picture of the entire group of grand officers for our year. 
I’m in the front row, the second lady to the right of center, and wearing a long-sleeved blue shirt. The ladies’ shirts have an angel embroidered on the front and back shoulder (our theme mascot); the mens’ shirts have clowns on them, to honor the Shriner’s clowns. Last spring I did the machine embroidery for all of them, plus a shirt for each officer’s escort. Now you know why there was a big gap in my knitting progress last year!
Here’s the entire “Pride”, declaring a truce and napping on DH’s lap as he naps, too. (Left to right, that’s Victoria, or “Torrie”, Minky, and Casper.) Naps are a good thing…especially with cats to relax you.
As Irish luck would have it, it was in town for the St. Patrick Day’s parade. (No, I didn’t attend that rain-soaked event. My deductions were prompted by the shamrock stickers on the windshield and all over the bun. ) We saw it one more time Sunday afternoon, and DH volunteered to circle the block and get a picture. Thanks, honey. I’m amused by the “sandwich” being in compliance with the One Way sign in the photo, even though it is in the parking lot.
This is the entire reception line. I was a good girl, and put my knitting down for the occasion. (I’m second from the right.)
Here’s a closer shot. I’m in the middle, surrounded by Susan, our Grand Marshal, and Faye, Friend of a Feather.
Here I’m greeting Melanie and Norma. Melanie is Worthy Matron of Baton Rouge Chapter. Norma has served loyally as my Page this year.
It’s malfunction was discovered by DH, who walked through a puddle of ice water in front of the refrigerator. That’s the same spot that the cats love because it is all warm and toasty and, well, dry. Except it wasn’t any of those things. The only warm and toasty spot was coming to be in the freezer. That’s just so wrong!
sailing down our lake. We rarely see such birds; the last pair was four years ago. I didn’t dare go outside to take pictures, but relied on the telephoto lens of my camera from the safety of my bedroom “duck blind”. As them came closer and closer, one of our resident mallard drakes
seemed reluctant to challenge them. He looked like a small fishing boat watching a aircraft carrier steam by!
We also got him a helmet and pads set. One always worries if the child will accept wearing the safety gear. As the pictures progress, you can see that we couldn’t get him to take them off! Three cheers for Sesame Street characters portrayed as wearing helmets and pads as they bike and skate!
Paul set to arranging it on the floor so he could see it all. Then he discovered the gift bag included some well-chosen books. Those of you who have been disappointed by less-than-enthusiastic teenagers on gift giving occasions need to spend some time with a three-year-old.
Paul loved everything, including some little trucks that kept him happy while the adults played Apples to Apples after dinner.
He has just discovered chocolate, so chocolate it was. The “3″ candle was recognized by the birthday boy (more kudos to Sesame Street).
Actually, I found this pattern in my files, and I like it a lot. It involves a yo, slip one knitwise, knit two, then pass the slipped stitch over the two knit stitches. This pattern unit moves over one stitch every other right-side row, giving the diagonal pattern. Its texture is very pleasing to the eye and hand. 
I went on a dig through my bags in the closet, hoping to find something with a drawstring that would fit on the lamp. Nothing would fit…but wait, that hat fell off the shelf as I rummaged. Why not give it a try? It fit, so I ran a ribbon drawstring around the edge, tied it in a bow, and said the Meezer mantra: I meant to do that!
