Wednesday, December 22, 2010

It's the most wonderful time of the year.

For as long as I can remember, I have been able to picture my calendar in my head. It's usually just the current week or month, but I can visualize each day and what I have planned. Then I have lists to help me remember the details of the things I need to accomplish those days, especially when it comes to work and household chores. The last couple weeks my inner calendar and my outer to do lists have been a little crazy. That is why when it came to writing blog posts, my brain has been too tired to compose coherent and semi-interesting paragraphs. Now, I just have one more day until I am on vacation for a whole week! Soooo looking forward to this break. I have definitely earned some rest and relaxation. What makes this vacation great is that I will be spending it with my whole family. Jon, Kat, and little Amelie are arriving by jet plane tomorrow evening. So excited to see them! I've missed my brother and sister and new little niece. I think it will be a race for us Georgia Risingers to see who gets to hold Amelie first. I may be nice and let Dad and Micah go first or at least have a head start, but I can't promise anything. Anyway, all that t say that I'm tired but looking forward with great anticipation to this holiday season when my family will all be together for the first time in a very long time. Having my family with me during the holidays is one of my favorite things...and hot chocolate. 

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

I'm sitting here listening to one of my favorite singers.

My mom is singing Breath of Heaven at the Family Lord's Supper tonight. She always says she doesn't like to sing solos. She'd rather sing with someone else if she has to sing at all. She's awesome though. Some of my earliest memories are of sitting on the front row at some venue gazing up at one or both of my parents while they sing. I was usually singing along with them, too, since I knew all the words to just about every song they would sing. Mom and Dad are singing another oldie but goodie this Sunday. It's called More Than Wonderful. I know all the words to that one so if you happen to be in the Crosspoint service this Sunday, look back at the soundboard because the audio tech will be singing along with them. One of my favorite things is listening to my parents sing. They are both gifted individually as singers, and when they come together in a duet, it's magical. Their voices blend in perfect harmony. A lot like their relationship. They perform so well together because they love each other and understand each other and neither acts like a diva, which a lot of people do when they are as talented as my parents and even when they are nowhere near as talented as my parents.

I also love that my super-talented parents never pushed us Risinger kids to pursue music. Granted, we all participated in various plays and musicals throughout our childhood, but that was just for fun. Then, as we got older, we all decided to enjoy music in our own ways. I took piano and voice lessons for a few months before deciding I didn't care enough to put in the time or effort to do well. I sang worship songs in youth group and at the Porch in college but that's pretty much the extent of my musical abilities.

Jon is good at rhythms so he can play some percussion instruments. He also taught himself how to play the piano, mostly chords but he does pretty well. He's also started singing more and is the master of memorization. Jon has also been the one to introduce me to new and interesting artists.

Music comes naturally to Micah. He started playing piano, then mastered the guitar and decided to pick up the bass guitar and drums. His voice has really blossomed since moving to Georgia. There are times when he and Dad are singing that I cannot tell them apart. He is constantly writing songs and arranging others. I cannot wait to see how God uses his immense musical talent in the future.

Another one of my favorite things is to get the whole family together to sing something. I think it's pretty awesome that music is something we can do together as a family. Just call us the vonRisinger Family Singers!

Monday, December 13, 2010

Details are my favorite.

Details are the reason I love to read the same books two or three times and watch the same movie over and over. I already know the main events, but I forget the details. The nuances of how an actor chooses to say a certain line. The reactions of a character to another and what that tells me about their personality. The little facts that when put together piece by piece create a unique individual. The clues that an author or director hints at throughout the story to entice an audience to pay attention. The flicker of emotion on someone's face. The way an author will choose one word over another word because of its connotation. How much description an author chooses to devote to a setting or character and how much the author leaves up to the reader's imagination. How story events seamlessly flow together. The details are what keep me coming back again and again to the same story. If it's a good story, I love to sit and read/watch for all the interesting and fascinating details I had forgotten from the previous reading/viewing. If it's a great story, I already have all the details ingrained into my memory, and I read/watch simply for the pure enjoyment of having to experience this riveting story again.

Details are also why I love to people watch. I look for the interesting tidbits that make one person different from everyone else. I soak up details about people so that I can figure out what makes them tick. Why are they the way they are? People reveal all sorts of things about themselves without ever having to open their mouths. The way they move, their smile, their frown, the way they look at others, the way they physically interact with the world around them - these reveal so much about a person. Then, when you add in how a person verbally interacts with their world, a whole new layer is added. Word choice, sentence structure, tone, laughter, volume, sarcasm, humor, phrasing all add new dimensions to a person. I love interesting people who require careful observation in order to discover their varying, unique layers.

Details are also what make a day interesting. The day itself may contain the same basic schedule, but the details make the day entertaining. The details are the answer to the question, "What happened today?" A person rarely answers with "Oh, I woke up, ate breakfast, went to work, ate lunch, came home, ate dinner and went to bed." That answer is devoid of details and therefore, boring. A more interesting answer would be, "The funniest thing happened at work today! I somehow accidentally locked myself in the music library and had to pick the lock with a safety pin to get out!" or "Everyone at work made fun of me because I wore three layers of clothing in protest of the broken heater" or "Mary brought free apple cider and cookies to work today and it was seriously all gone in a manner of minutes like a cloud of locusts had descended and wrought havoc in the workroom!" or "I slipped on a small patch of ice as I was walking across the parking lot and the cutest guy at work happened to witness my tumble and gallantly offered me a hand up." See, the details are so much more engaging in a conversation than the broad main topics! Others agree with me, too:

The true secret of happiness lies in taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life.
William Morris

To be really great in little things, to be truly noble and heroic in the insipid details of everyday life, is a virtue so rare as to be worthy of canonization.
Harriet Beecher Stowe

Every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.
Ernest Hemingway

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

It's freakin' COLD!!!

I know I keep commenting and posting about the weather here in Georgia, but you have to realize something. I have never lived somewhere that had actual seasonal weather. Southern California has very mild seasons. Summer is hot, fall is sorta warm with some cool days thrown in occasionally, winter is cool with some rain and random hot and cold days, and spring is nice weather with rain and alternating weeks of warm and cool temperatures.

This is not the case in Georgia. I have really only experienced three seasons so far. Summer is hot and muggy. Fall is cool with awesome, autumnal foliage. Winter is COLD! I realized today that whenever I have experienced real winter weather it was when I was visiting the mountains for a few days. I have never had to live through an actual winter with actual winter temperatures and wind chill. My heater runs all day at my house so that I don't end up shivering when I walk in the door after work and when I wake up in the morning. I've never had to do that before. I think if I lived any further north I would not survive winter at all. People would find my frozen corpse after the spring thaw.


These Southerners keep asking me how I'm doing this winter. I tell them I'm cold, of course! I still have California blood. I have to stay ridiculously bundled up everywhere I go. There are times I see people here out in 40 degree weather without a jacket on or wearing shorts. I just want to yell at them, "Are you kidding me?! Do you have a death wish?!" These Southerners just laugh at me when I say I'm cold now and say, "What 'til it gets colder!" Colder? You mean it gets colder than this?! Oh dear...I may have to walk around in all my clothes like Joey does on that episode from Friends. Either that or......I don't know. That may be my only option right now. I'll be sure to post pictures if it comes to that. For now, I'm going to bundle up in my bed underneath my down comforter with my flannel socks and pants and attempt to warm up the sheets enough so that I can fall asleep. Is it weird to wear a beanie and gloves to bed?

Monday, December 6, 2010

I really am slow to anger except...

Normally, I am a calm, easygoing person. Not much ruffles this calm exterior. I do pretty well with taking things as they come and overcoming obstacles without stressing out about the inconveniences. I work at not complaining and grumbling and worrying. I would much rather laugh over a mistake or mishap than shed a few tears. All in all, my emotions remain at an even keel.

However, there is one sure-fire way to spark the flames of my low-burning temper: Mess with my family. If you want to see Heather get mad, then falsely accuse, pick on, or treat one of my family members unjustly. Nothing ticks me off more than that. I am not a violent person and do not turn to physical violence  when angered. I do, however, want to confront whoever is attacking my family and let them know with a few choice words exactly what I think about their actions. As a general rule, I avoid confrontation whenever possible, but, when it comes to my family, I would face down any bully or mean-spirited idiot person who would dare cause anyone I love pain and heartache. I try very hard to forgive because it's what I am called to do as a Christ follower, but I do not easily forget these types of transgressions against my family. I can never look at a person the same way again after they have hurt a family member. There is always a part of me that rises up in indignation at the sight of the person, though I do try to not react in kind.

There is also a part of me that wants to fix the problem and make it better somehow. Usually I make something I know would make my family member smile or take them somewhere fun and relaxing. Anything to try to make up for the awful way they were treated. I absolutely hate it when someone I love is hurting, and I don't have the words to make that horrible feeling they are experiencing go away. Instead I try to make up for it somehow and let them know in a tangible way that I love them and will always stand up for them.


So, the moral of the story is to think long and hard before going up against anyone I consider part of my family or you may one day face the wrath of Heather! ( I realize this may not seem much of a threat, but it really is more frightening than you think.)

Sunday, December 5, 2010

I just have to say something.

I normally try really hard not to rant, but I just have to say this. It is my own personal belief that the sound tech can make or break a _________ (fill-in-the-blank with any multitude of events where a sound system is needed). Now, I do not profess to be a licensed/educated/have-the-sound-engineering-degree-to-prove-it technician, but I know enough to be thoroughly frustrated when a sound tech ruins a perfectly good concert. I have always believed that if the techies are doing their jobs right, then the audience forgets they're even there. If we're invisible, then we have been successful! It just drives me up the wall when the audio tech makes mistake after awful mistake. I am not saying that problems do not arise when one is dealing with live sound, but it is ridiculous to overdrive the channels to the point that people's ears are bleeding or continue to have a loud buzz or feedback anytime a channel is open or not know the importance of balance when mixing voices and instruments. It takes away from the purpose of the event on stage, and it's not fair for the performers or the audience.

Sometimes I wish I didn't know any better when it comes to running sound because it is hard for me to focus, especially in a church service, on anything other than how much I wish I could run back to the soundboard and fix what I'm hearing. I've been running sound for the last two Sundays, and it's been so much fun to get back behind all those buttons, but it also makes me realize how much I still have to learn in order to be considered proficient. I find myself lacking knowledge of the technical side of running the board. I am seriously contemplating trying to find somewhere around here that has a class or two on sound engineering and mixing. Don't know if I'll find anything, but it's worth a shot.

Anyway, I'm done 'just having to saying something.' I think I can sleep now...night all.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

We listened to vinyls tonight.

Today, I found a great deal on a stereo system that plays, among other media, vinyl records. I love the sound they make as the needle scratches across the surface. Mom found some old records from their college days and from the group they toured with after college. Mom didn't have any solos, but Dad did. Fans of Bill Risinger's voice now should hear Bill Risinger's voice in his early 20s. Wow...boy, could he sing. I'm so glad we have these albums with recordings of Dad singing because these are the only recordings he has ever made. He was hilarious as we were listening to these records - he knew all the words, the inflections he used, stylistic choices he made in each song. We listened. We laughed. We sat in awe of this voice that soared with each note and told a story with each word.

There are times I have wondered about how different our lives would have been if Dad had taken a different path...if he had pursued a career in music that involved performing on stages in front of packed houses and recording albums that sold millions of copies. I think it says a lot about who Dad is that he chose a different path...one that led to pastoring at churches and leading people in musical worship. He touched people's lives individually rather than impersonally in multitudes. I have no doubt he could have been famous, a star even. Instead, though he is well-known in certain circles and areas, he chose to serve God in His church as a music minister, to remain humble and not strive for that elusive goal of stardom. He still refers to himself as just Bill from Buckeye. All the glory and praise and attention and accolades he receives because of his many talents and abilities is always reflected back to the One who is worthy of all glory, honor and praise. That attitude, that focus, that lifestyle Dad lives out everyday tells me more than any words can what kind of man my father is.

Like I said before, I have often wondered about that divergence in Dad's life. It brings to my literary mind the Robert Frost poem The Road Not Taken. I would have loved my Dad if he had taken the other road and become successful in the world's eyes, but I think I love him more knowing that he took the 'road less traveled' because that has made all the difference.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference

...Robert Frost

Friday, December 3, 2010

I got a letter in the mail today.

I received an actual handwritten letter in the mail today. I literally did a little jump for joy when I saw it in my mailbox. Getting a letter in the mail is awesome partly because it is so rare nowadays and partly because it seems so much more personal than an email or a text. I wish more people would write me letters. It seems like a lost art. Whenever I watch Pride and Prejudice or read a book set in the 1800s, part of me wishes the art of penning a letter would come back in style. *sigh* I suppose our culture moves too quickly for snail mail in these fast-paced modern times.  

A few months ago, before I made the great move overland to Georgia, I decided to write a letter to someone. I have never met this person, but I care about her a great deal. I send this person cards on her birthday and on holidays. I contribute to her physical and mental well-being, so I decided to develop the emotional side of our relationship by writing a personal letter. This person lives on the other side of the ocean which means letters are few and far between, but it's all worth it when I open the mailbox and see that thin envelope lying there just full of possibilities.

The letter has traveled all the way from Uganda. The author is a 15 year old girl named Jillian. She is one of the kids I sponsor through World Vision. I love that though we have never met, we can still touch each other's lives. I love knowing that I can make a difference in this girl's life though she lives on another continent. I love receiving letters and drawings from Jillian that reveal, bit by bit, who she is and what's important to her. I would love to travel to Uganda someday so we might meet face to face. I pray we do so that I can look into her beautiful brown eyes and tell her how much she means to me and how she has changed my life for the better.

But right now, I have a letter to read over again to absorb everything it has to tell me about this young girl from Uganda so that I might write a letter back that tells her more about this young woman from America. I'm so glad I got a letter in the mail today.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

My brain is driving me crazy right now.

My brain is driving me crazy because it won't stop thinking of topics I could write for my blog posts. I have at least three to four different ideas that my brain keeps jumping back and forth between. A couple sentences here, a few thoughts there, and then on to another concept. It's way too busy up there for 9pm at night! I figured this blog would be a great idea for unloading some of my thoughts, which it has, but it has also turned my cabeza into a blogpost-producing monster! Anyway, I just needed to get that frustration out before my head explodes.

SoI have chosen the topic for tonight's post: "The Question." You see, I have this theory that we all have one question that we are asked the most in our lives. It's the "if I only had a dollar for every time someone asked me that" question. The Question is unique for everyone, but we all have one. My Question is one I've been asked all my life. I even came up with my Top Five Questions. So without further ado, here they are:
  
 Heather's Top Five Questions:
          5)  Does your family sing to each other all the time?
          4)  Will you proofread this for me?
          3)  Are you related to _______ Risinger?
          2)  Do you wear tinted contacts?
          1) Are your eyes really that blue?

Heather's Top Five Answers:
         5) Yes, ALL the time. Why say the words when you can sing them!
         4) Of course. Am I editing for content, proofing for mistakes or both?
         3) (If the blank is filled with one of my family member's names) Yes.
         2) Yes, I do, but the lenses are only slightly tinted so I can see them.
         1) Yes, they are. I inherited them from my mom. (Gesture to Mom if she happens to be present.)

And there you have it. Now you know my Question. Now it's your turn: What's your Question?

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

There are two males in my bed right now.

There are two males in my bed right now. One is kinda cute but frequently annoys me. The other is adorable and loves me very much. One is shaggy and gangly and acts like a two year old most of the time. The other is more mature with big brown eyes and reddish brown hair and is very social. There is one thing they have common though: they are both of the canine persuasion. That's right - I'm dog-sitting for a couple days.

My parents' monster of a Yorkie, Coda, is still very much a puppy and so dramatic. He keeps getting up, sniffing around the bed, then decides on a new resting place and plops down with a long-suffering sigh. Coda doesn't seem to know what to do with himself when Mom and Dad are away. I cuddle with him and play with him and give him some attention, but although he participates, it's as if he's just placating me. "I know you're not Mom or Dad, but you're all I've got right now so I guess I'll make do." Whenever I come into the house, he seems excited to see me until I realize he's waiting for someone else to walk in behind me. Coda is really not that bad; he just misses the parents.

Jack, on the other hand, is genuinely excited when I come home. He loves people, but I like to think I'm his favorite. We've been roommates for over a year now, and I think we've gotten used to each other. Jack is a great roommate. He loves to cuddle with me but understands when I need some space. He's always excited to see me and greets me with enthusiasm, whether I've been gone for two minutes or two hours. He requires very little care in the area of personal hygiene. He's content to sit next to me and chill whether I'm on the computer, watching a movie, paying my bills or reading a book. Jack's pretty great. I'm glad that one day last October, Jon and Kat hijacked me saying we were going to Disneyland but took me to the Animal Shelter instead so I would finally adopt a dog instead of just saying I would get to it one day. I love my ninja/Houdini dog who sleeps with his tongue sticking out and assumes everyone he meets is a friend. Jack is awesome.

Well, I'm going to try these sleeping arrangements tonight and see how this works out. If I'm cranky from lack of sleep tomorrow, it's the dogs' fault and definite changes will be made for bed tomorrow night. Good night!