My Wild Escapades in French

(View of the Paris hotel from the Bellagio in Las Vegas)

"Sometimes we're so focused on where we're going

we forget how far we've come."

~ Sarah Stufflebeam

Yeah, I just quoted myself, and I'm sure someone else has said this too, but it's a thought and feeling that keeps running through my mind.  And this thought came to me after my wild escapades trying to learn French.

You see, Monsieur français et moi have never been on very good speaking terms.

Back in High School I took French for two years and didn't really learn much of the language, besides "ananas" meaning pineapple and the life history of my teacher.  Then at BYU, for my Bachelors of Arts: Music degree, I was required to take another two years in French.  This time I did learn something, but so overwhelmed I was in my music studies French suffered a little, and I managed a happy C- in both French 102 and 201.  I was really discouraged, overwhelmed, and terrified for the upcoming 202 class.

These fears didn't soften at all on the first day.  By 202 the professor speaks entirely in French (well, they really start you in on that in 101, but the vocabulary is so much richer), but that's not what startled me.  My fellow classmates were also speaking fluent French as well!  And I was still tripping over verb conjugations and tenses.  This went on for some time, with a couple other students freaked out like I was, until we realized all those other students were returned missionaries.  

Technically returned missionaries aren't supposed to take 202, but are supposed to start right in on the French 300 and above classes, but somehow many of them snuck into the class.  This didn't help my confedence any, but I did all the extra credit, and was studying between 2-4 hours a day, on top of my intense music training. Somehow I pulled an A- out of the hat after the final.  I earned it, but I was so discouraged by my fellow classmates, never managing to speak easily in the language, that I didn't feel I deserved this.

Of course after graduation I completely let French go, and have now forgotten most of it.  I still really want to be fluent!  So I've been going through my books and dictionaries, and I'm going to start at the basics and really learn this time.  Third times the charm!  But as I go through books, or hear a piece of French in a movie that I'm able to translate, I know it's still in my brain, and I realize how much I really did learn.  I was so busy comparing myself to others that I didn't realize how far I had come.  

And now, instead of focusing on becoming fluent, I'm going to have fun and rejoice over every little grammer fact and memorized vocab, because each step is a step towards my goal.  And going forward, albeit at a slow pace, is better then not moving at all. 

Sarah

Lizzie's Last Run

(My Great Grandfather, Forrest Emerson)

I thought it would be fun every Sunday to share some of the things I'm finding in my families genealogy.  Below is a poem my Great Grandfather wrote about a trip he took.  He even got it published in the newspaper around 1926.  Below was what was published:

Lizzie's Last Run

(Forest Emerson, who went to California two months ago with Ray Ebersole, Charles Walker, and Burton Whalin in a Ford, gives his version of a perlious trip--no they were in the Ford, but he tells about it in poetry.)

Coming down the mountain, there is lots to be told,

About a Ford with brakes that wouldn't hold.

And this is what I want to tell thee--

Razz ran her up against a big tree.  

Lizzie sure did look awfully sad.  

With the front end smashed up pretty bad.

We took all five tires,

Spark plugs and even the wires.

We took the lights, I'd hope to shout,

But not the connecting rods, because they were burned out.

Then some other things we didn't want anybody to steal,

Were the radiator and guide wheel.

So, we brought everything with us,

In the back of Clifford's bus.

So now she lays with a broken heart,

You can crank but she will never start.

Because we never left a single coil,

Not even gas, but all the oil.

If we only had a car with brakes that would hold,

This story to you would never have been told.

~Forrest Emerson.

  (Picture of the Ford)

He was 18 when he traveled from Toledo Iowa to California with three of his friends, and this story is of a random side trip he was talked into up to Oregon and back.  The Ford crashed on the way back.

Hope you had a great Sunday,

Sarah

365 Day Photo challenge: Days 20 - 22. Remembering the Great Porterville Snow Fall of 1999

(Day 20 of the 365 day photo challenge) 

Starting January 22, 2012 we had a series of snow storms come through, which was actually a pleasant surprise.  I grew up in central California where all the orange trees grow, so just going below freezing was enough to freak the community out.  I heard that's how Porterville earned the "All American City" award, because one winter, when the trees were in danger of being destroyed by the cold, everyone got together to save them by pumping warm water and what not, and the crops were saved.  Nothing beats getting an orange straight from the tree.

 

(Day 21 of the 365 day photo challenge) 

I would fantasize how amazing it would be to have a snow day and for school to be canceled.  Every once in a while we would get snow flurries, but they would melt before hitting the ground.  Then January 25, 1999 something freaky happened.  Growing up LDS outside of Utah, I attended 6:30 a.m. seminary, but around 5:30 in the morning I got a call from my teacher saying class was canceled because it was snowing.  Snowing!?  Yeah, right, and I think I even laughed, because my teacher told me to look outside.  I did, swinging the door open, and gasping.  It was still dark, but there was at least half a foot of snow on the ground, and giant white snow flakes falling to the ground in glorious puffs. 

 

(Day 22 of the 365 day photo challenge) 

School was canceled, and I spent the day with my brother and friend Jeff, a neighbor, playing in snow fights and walking to other streets.  Everyone was out that day.  The whole city seemed to be at a stand still.  Here in Utah if there was snow like that, we wouldn't give it another thought, business would resume as normal.  But in California with braking tree branches taking out power lines and cars skidding everywhere causing accidents, most people seemed to stay home.  

It was such a novelty that the Weather Channel did a segment on it, featuring footage of the snow in Visalia.  

It's sad, reflecting, because I've forgotten that magic.  When it snows the first thing I think of is hoping the plow trucks are out and that the snow needs to be shoveled.  I hate driving in it.  These last few winters have been nasty and very wet.  But this year there hasn't really been much snow at all.  And so when we finally got a little, I couldn't help but be reminded how beautiful it is.

Have a great week!

Sarah 

A funny picture and Music's pathway

 

I took this picture on day 5 of my photo challenge, but got so caught up with the birds and their music, I choose one of those pictures instead.  But on the way to Church last Sunday this "Lost" paper was taken down.  Anyway, I found it super hilarious and wanted to share it.

A couple nights ago, right before drifting to sleep, I lay there listening to David Wilcox's "Live Songs and Stories."  I love his music; he's an expert lyricist and guitarist.  I've never been to one of his concerts, though I hope I'll get the chance one day, so this album is the closest I can get at this time.  Anyway, on one of the tracks he was speaking, and what he said hit home with me, and Dream Maze, the song I just put online, and the fears and hopes I have for it.  What David said comforted me:

“Maybe music doesn't stand a chance. I mean, I can make sound. I have vocal chords. I have strings. I can make sound. Who needs sound? We need music, and music is much bigger then that. Music is Timing with a capital “T.” Music is hearing a song that sounds like your song, 'cause it's just what you've been dreaming of, or thinking of, or praying for. Suddenly it's speaking right to you. Sure, there's all these other people here, but they're just superfluous. It's your song. It was meant just for you. And it hits home, and it's real, 'cause it's coming from someplace much bigger.

“But in that place you look around, and you think, 'Oh Man, there's no chance for this to happen. There's so many distractions.' There's always distractions. All you can do is send it out. I think Sting's analogy of songs is a great one, saying it's like a message in a bottle. You take all your best hopes and dreams, and send it out in a bottle. Toss it in the ocean. Who ever gets it, and when they get it, well, it has more to do with the ocean then it has to do with you. That's good, the ocean can be trusted. The timing is right.” ~ David Wilcox.

Then after this he sang "Show the Way," which has got to be one of the most brilliant songs ever written.

But the Ocean can be trusted, and trust it I will.

Always, 

Sarah