Run Blue Run

So my phone rang the other day. I picked it up and said "hello?", and heard a familiar voice on the other end. The first thing this very familiar voice said was, "Are you ever going to run a marathon or half marathon?"

"Uh, hello to you too, JB " I replied

JB then proceeded to use all her powers of reason and persuasion to convince me over the next 90 minutes that I should and could do it. And then she cinched the deal by agreeing to be my training buddy and run the thing with me. Even though we're in different states, we'll keep tabs on each other through technology.

As anyone who knows me IRL or reads my blog knows, I've been trying to become a a person who runs. Among other things, I've used the inspiration of several Super Super Women Around me (they're everywhere!!!), as well as the guidance of various bloggers to try and change myself in this regard. And while I've seen a slight improvement in my attitude about the whole matter, I'm nowhere near transformed.

Still, when JB called, I felt within myself a certain call to action. It was a chance to dream...something I've decided to do more of. (Thanks Brett!)

Right now, running a half marathon isn't something I've ever aspired to do. It doesn't actually sound fun. But the marathon part isn't the reason to do it. It's the getting my caboose out there and doing the training every other day that is the reason. One of my favorite things that Doc says is "the journey's the reward". It's very true. And getting myself into better physical condition is the best reward I could give myself. Or my family.

So here I go. I just plunked down my registration fee, and now I have five months to get myself geared up. My main concern (beyond ability to actually get out and train), really, is my knees. I hope they can take it. I'm glad I have this much time to prepare.

Of course it goes with out saying that I can use all the cheerleaders, encouragement and fan support I can get. As well as any tips. I'll try to log my progress here.

13.1, here I come!

Claudia

It was also Claudia's birthday. Claudia is one of the most beautiful people you'll ever meet...and I'm talking about the complete package. The whole kitNkaboodle. Through and through. And it's clearly genetic, because her whole family is like that. Beautiful inside and out.

Michelle and I thought it would be fun to take her to lunch to celebrate. Happily, it worked out and we had a nice time stuffing ourselves at the Cheesecake Factory. Well, at least I stuffed myself. Those two hardly dented their meals. Michelle's cute littlest punks joined us for the event.

This pretty little apron was Michelle's gift to Claudia. It's so darling on her she should be in a catalog selling them. I'd buy one, wouldn't you?!
This happy trio are more fun than a barrel of monkeys. And can you think of anything better than finger painting with caramel and hot fudge? I submit that you can not. The lunch bunch. Hope you had a great birthday Claudia. Thanks for sharing your day and your friendship with us!

The Ultimate Chocolate Cake Adventure

Generally I make birthday cakes after everyone goes to bed on "birthday eve". But for some blessed reason, this year I made Doc's cake early in the day, while everyone was at school. And that night, when the power went out for 3 hours, I was SO grateful that it was already done!

I've written about my cake-making in the past, and this year for Doc, I really wanted to make some chocolate decadent dream cake. Something so dark, rich and chocolaty that Doc would fairly moan with delight when he tasted it. It had to be moist, and deeply dark, with amazing texture. And I wanted it to look stunningly elegant and classy.

So of course I turned to Google for help. After hours searching and reading reviews and what not, I finally decided that this cake was The Worthy One. I started preparing for this cake quite early and in hindsight I'm really glad because I noticed that A) the recipe is from England, so the measurements are all in metric. No sweat...I'll use one of the handy online conversion tools to figure it out. But then, B) what the heck is muscovado sugar? To say nothing of golden caster sugar. And notice, it even says "no substitutes". Clearly, I needed the aid of the omnipotent Google again.

This time, though, Google wasn't helping much. I wanted to know what the equivalent of muscovado and golden caster sugars were in the USA. Though I learned a lot about sugar in my searching, I never did definitively determine what these ingredients were called in the land of milk and honey. But I think I came close. For the muscovado, I used the darkest brown sugar I could find. And for golden caster, I ended up getting ultra fine granulated sugar. Which wasn’t golden, but oh well. Ultra fine sugar has a significantly smaller granule than regular sugar...which makes it dissolve much faster and results in a smoother texture. Or so they say.

I did get the highest quality 70%+ dark chocolate bars that I could get my hands on. And then I started the process of making the cake.

It wasn't till it came time to pour the batter in the pan that I realized the Pan Issue. Who the heck has a 20 cm X 7.5 cm pan? I've never seen one. That’s almost 3" deep. My pans are only 1.5" deep, and boast a 9" diameter. No wonder they wanted you to bake it for an hour and a half!

In desperation, I ended up using my two regular 9" rounds, and cutting the bake time down. Then, because I had 2 small layers, I cut each one in half, making 4 total. The resulting cake was more short and squat than it would have been with the pan they called for. But at least there was lots of ganache filling.

Ganache is amazing. If you don't know anything about ganache (and I didn't till this past year) it's the BEST! And the reason I say that is because it's A) super easy to make, and B) Scrumdiddilyumptious. Bonus, C) it's such a fun word. Ganache. Ganache. Panache.

Okay, once the panachey ganashe was made, it was time to make piles of chocolate curls. And of course I'd never made chocolate curls before. Again, Google to the rescue. I found a few different suggestions on how to make them. You probably know that you can just use a peeler on a bar of chocolate...but this results in very skinny curls (unless you have a mondo thick bar of chocolate. In which case you're a Lucky!). For this, I wanted some of the big guns. So isn't this brilliant? All you do is melt some chocolate, then spread it on a metal cookie sheet in a thin layer. Put this in the freezer for just a moment...long enough to firm up but not freeze. You have to experiment to get the right temperature. If it's too cold, it'll be brittle and break. If it's too warm, well, chocolate soup. Which is yummy, of course. But it's not curly. So when it's just the right temp, you take a metal spatula and start pushing it along to curl the thin layer of chocolate up. It's brilliant! I made all kinds of chocolate curls. And after I curled them, I put them in the fridge to hold their shape.

Thanks to my friend Michelle (who keeps saving the day!), I had an elegant cake server to present the whole thing on. My old cutting board covered with aluminum foil is what I usually trot out for cake serving. But this one required something classier.The final assembly proved to be something of a trick...and as I mentioned the look wasn't quite what I'd hoped for and envisioned. But the real test came after blowing out enough candles to heat a small village, when Doc took his first bite.


"Blue, this is seriously the best chocolate cake I've ever tasted. And I'm not just saying that. It really is." That's what he said. Truly!

Glory Hallelujah and amen. I'm so glad it was a hit.

Doc Had A Birthday, Shout Hooray!

I am resigned to the fact that some people honestly, sincerely, truly and actually DON'T like big parties. For real. As hard as this is for someone like me to comprehend, there are people who just don't like them, nor do they enjoy being in the spotlight.

Doc is one of these people. I've made my peace with this fact and it's about time. He's very grateful.

So as Doc's birthday was approaching, we had a few conversations in which (with all my subtlety and casualness) I tried to elicit what he might be expecting in the way of celebration. Whenever the subject of a party came up, he'd say things such as "heavens, no. I don't want a party." No, of course you don't.

And he really didn't! In fact, if I had put together a big ole' bash, such as he threw me for my thirtieth birthday (which was an "over the hill" party of all the silliness!) (and which took place just a couple weeks ago...yeah, weeks. That's right.), he'd have been a good sport about it of course. But he wouldn't have reveled in it.

Still, it's inconceivable that I would just do nothing. You can't be married to Blue and not be acknowledged on your birthday. Even Doc has to celebrate his life once a year. So I canceled my original idea (which was something along the lines of a surprise BBQ at a park in which his entire med school class would all congregate and revel in his existence), and came up with a Surprise Breakfast of Crepes At Our House. With The Girls.

The Girls are the wonderful bunch of women with whom Doc spends all his waking hours. Okay, that's not strictly true, and no, I'm not jealous. It just so happens that Doc's study group is comprised entirely of women...Doc being the only exception. So for the past two years, there's been a running joke whenever he's getting together with the girls "to study".

Normally this would be cause for insecurity and jealousy for someone like me. After all, these four women are WAY smarter than I am. They're smart, hard-working and beautiful. And they're smart. And they're also intelligent. And if that weren't enough, they're all super nice. And smart too. So someone like me...a mere flight attendant, would be within her rights to feel somewhat insecure with the thought of Doc spending so much time with them. But I've known one of them, Dana, for a long time. She was a freshman at Chicago when Doc was working on his Ph.D. there. And she and her friends are all such a awesome girls women that I'm really glad they've graciously included Doc in their circle of study buddies. It's been a win-win for everyone, I think.

Anyway, Dana was kind enough to help me plan the breakfast and spread the word. I set it for 7:00 a.m., which according to Amber, was "Mighty early. Mighty." I just told her it was my friendly effort to ease her into the 3rd year rotation schedule which is literally at their doorstep. In a matter of weeks, 7:00 a.m. will be a dream to her. Sure enough, they were there on the dot, ready to celebrate this wonderful man in our lives. They snuck in the back door, and we were all in the kitchen when Doc came in for breakfast. "Surprise!".

It was perfect, because he couldn't get mad about such a small surprise, and since he spends all day with these women, he couldn't claim to be uncomfortable with all the attention.

And just look, two of them even dressed like him that day!

We crammed around the table and had a yummy breakfast of crepes, after which all the future docs and kids ran off to school. Bunch made a special crepe for her favorite guy. It was a fun way to start the morning. Hope you had a happy birthday Doc. I ♥ You!!!

Everywhere

I know. I haven't posted in two weeks. I've been everywhere else but here. At first it was because I was busy with birthdays. Then I had scouts and PTA stuff and whatnot to work on. But then it was Michelle's fault, because she loaned me a really long book (really long!), which I didn't put down till I'd finished the whole dadgum thing.

Then as soon as I came up for air after the book was completed, it was Puerto Rico's fault. Yes Puerto Rico. I'm trying to plan our time out when we're there next month, and book hotels for every night. I'm still not done, because I'm such a frugal nincompoop that it's hard to swallow the cost of a room. I keep thinking I'll find better deals if I search harder.

Anyway, after that, I became consumed with a very cool crafty project that my SIL helped me with. She's the crafty one, not me. But I loved hers so much I actually committed myself to doing a craft, and I'm really excited to share the final product at some point, but not yet. Just in case (the very remote chance) the people I made it for happen to read my blog...I don't want to spoil the surprise. Awww, now I just gave all my faithful readers a hint that it's not for them. Sorry Faithful Readers! I ♥ Your Guts!

But enough with the excuses already! The following posts will contain a bunch of random, unconnected pictures and descriptions about the recent past events in my life.

Pain and Faith

I hate being nauseous. I mean, I really hate it. Throughout my life, whenever I’ve had that dreaded “uh oh, I think I’m going to throw up” feeling take over my body, an interesting thing happens. Regardless of the fact that, with all that is in me I desperately don’t want to get sick, and despite my irrational fear of the actual throwing up part, eventually I come to feel so miserable, that the fear is supplanted by acceptance, and I almost welcome the inevitable. In the moment when I’m finally sick, I experience a reprieve from the fear and pain. It’s an emotional event for me, heightened by relief to finally be done with that feeling of nausea, and come out on the other side of it.

Similarly, I love being alive. I mean, I really love it. My innate instinct to survive is strong and robust. Everything in my being desperately wants to stay here and be alive with the wonderful people in my life.

Thus far I’ve never been seriously ill, so it’s hard to imagine ever making peace with dying. Until I remember the whole throwing up thing. Do you think that’s what happens towards the end of an extended, terminal illness? Or serious accident/injury, when we’re in very dire straights? Do we just get so sick, and so tired and exhausted from fighting the inevitable, that we finally embrace the alternative?

It’s not that I’m afraid of the next life. I’m not. I have an unshakable conviction that the hereafter is real, and that it will absolutely be better than anything I’ve experienced here. This belief isn’t something anyone could prove or disprove, because it’s based on faith.

Up until the last couple years, I didn’t really have genuine faith. Real faith is powerful. It’s inexplicable to someone who hasn’t experienced it. The closest I can come to describing the difference between real faith, and what I used to think of as faith (but which was actually a combination of acceptance, belief, hope and logic) is like the difference between seeing lightening on tv, and having it strike the ground right before your eyes.

On the tv, you believe it’s power, accept that it’s real, don’t question it’s legitimacy, and can even ooh and ahhh at the beauty and strangeness of it. You can talk about it, thinking you know, and even describe it and declare your belief in the power of lightening to others. But when a bolt actually comes down out of the sky and strikes the ground right before your very eyes, coupled with that magnificent crack of thunder…well, you experience an entirely different kind of knowing.

In the process of my life experiences, some of which have been fairly challenging for me, (but then, whose aren't?), I’ve gone from thinking I had faith and knew what it was, to actually experiencing the power that true faith in Christ has to transform a life.

It’s a long process, and I’m (hopefully) just in the middle of it. But where I am right now is so vastly different from where I was a few short years ago that it's almost breathtaking. That whole “seeing through a glass darkly” thing is so apropos. It beautifully sums up the process of growing and learning in my life.

I recently wrote about fear. Upon reflection, I think the only part of my life that I struggle to not succumb to fear is in my ability to bear pain well. When there is a reason for it, pain is easier to endure…and I suppose moving on to the next life is a pretty solid reason. But I don’t really fear anything else.

Loss, trial, heartache…those are all par for the course in our sojourn here and I’m at peace with that. But when you are in physical pain, that’s a tough one. I hope whenever I’m called upon to endure physical discomfort and pain, I can do so with faith. I haven't always in the past, but I hope I've learned some things in the meantime. And I hope that in the process, I’ll be carried and sustained by the source of my faith, as I know I have been in the past.

I think that’s what happened when I was in labor with my two children. I recall the experience with Bunch. I had no pain relief during those 11 hours of labor except what little I took from being submersed in water, and I honestly feel like my soul retreated into some far away corner of my body. I didn't make a sound for hour upon hour, as the waves of pain overtook me. My eyes were opened to just how much a body could suffer. The experience was replicated with Gator, sans any relief being in water would have supplied (he was in distress and the water was nixed). In fact, my labor with Gator was even harder than the first time (though that seemed impossible during Bunch's birth).

I’d had injuries before in my life, but being in labor showed me clearly that there were things I never knew I never knew about pain. It was a crash course in humility. I distinctly remember telling Doc on the way home from the hospital after Bunch was born that we “couldn’t have any more children, because I simply couldn’t go through that kind of pain again.” And I was dead serious at that moment. It wasn’t idle conversation.

I was in awe that humanity had survived as long as it has, because why would any woman willingly go through that experience more than once? I was also humbled with a sense of gratitude for every female progenitor who had endured (and in some cases, died because of) childbirth, leading to my existence. And I remember feeling like I’d joined the ranks of a select club…Women Who’ve Experienced Drug-free Childbirth and lived to tell the tale. It was kind of empowering (even though I knew I could never go through it again.)

But funny, within a few short weeks, the intensity of the pain had diminished, and I was looking seriously forward to having another child. And I'm so glad that we did!

There’s probably a commensurate type of emotional pain, and I’m sure I’ll have to experience it too, someday. I think I’ve witnessed it in others enduring the grieving process and my heart goes out to them, but I have yet to lose anyone dearly beloved in my life so it's hard to tell for sure if it's the same. Part of me thinks that as long as I maintain a modicum of hope, emotional pain will be easier to endure. But I realize that could be a pipe dream.

I've always been amused when I go to the doctor and they have that little "pain chart", numbered 1-10.
"How bad is your pain?" the doctor asks.

How do I respond to that? Is their question based just on all the pain I've personally experienced (as if this would supply any kind of point of reference for them), or do they want me to include the realm of pain that I've only dared let myself imagine? Some tenth concentric ring of torturous hell reserved for those special last moments right before you succumb to blissful unconsciousness or death itself?

I ask, because even though I'm pretty tough, I know that the worst is probably yet to come. (I usually tell them "three or four...but I have a pretty high pain tolerance!", sighting my drug-free child births as an example. For the record, if I ever have another child, you can bet I'll be drinking whatever pain relief cocktail the doctors are serving. I don't need to be a hero any more.)

There are many hard lessons ahead that I’m sure I’ll "get" to learn. Emotional pain of loss and grief for certain. If I’m lucky enough to live a long time, that is. I hope I can endure them well.

The Reception

I didn't have my camera in hand during the actual wedding ceremony. It took place on the shore at sunset on Friday, and was simply beautiful. And yes, I did cry a little. Cause I'm sentimental like that, and felt so happy for them both.

After the ceremony we were served a delicious dinner and enjoyed a couple different bands, including a steel drummer. I just love the steel drums! There's something so islandy about them!

During the reception, another friend, S, and I snuck away for a few minutes to decorate the bridal suite and light some candles for the bride and groom to return to. For all I know they were completely burned out by the time C & C got to their room, but we tried.

Everyone had a great time hanging out afterwards...and I'm not sure how late the party went because I had to get my bum up to my room and pack. There was a 6 a.m. departure to the airport on my docket and I was up before dawn to get there...but I won't bore anyone here with the joys of jumpseating. Suffice to say I did finally make it safely home, on Sunday.

I felt so happy for C & C...and their children are all definitely winners in this marriage. C & C are both dedicated, wonderful parents who love their children. I'm so grateful for their friendship and the chance to be with them and all their wonderful friends during this amazing week of celebration.

Darling C, may your happily ever after include all the regular ups and downs that a life well-lived contains. May the happy times be abundant, may you never be without hope in the hard times, and may you have enough joy to help you sail through the storms of life to calmer shores. I love you!!! ♥

The Villas and Rehersal Dinner

Virgin Gorda is a tiny island in the British Virgin Island chain, about a 20 minute ferry ride from the slightly better-known island of Tortolla. Virgin Gorda now holds the dubious honor of being the smallest international airport I've ever flown from. Domestic too, for that matter.

The resort we stayed at was amazing. Aquamare was just completed in January, and allegedly, Harrison Ford was the first person to occupy it. Alas, Indiana, Han President James Marshall was long gone by the time I arrived, but it was obvious why he would have picked this as a get-away. Mahoe Bay, which Aquamare is situated on, is owned by one family who just built these luxury villas, and it's the perfect private spot for anyone looking for a piece of paradise away from prying eyes. I particularly loved the swinging bed down on the edge of the water and nearly fell asleep on it the 2nd night I was there. The infinity pool was refreshing, and the snorkeling in the reef right on the beach wasn't half bad! I took a kayak out one morning and reveled in the beauty of the area.

Thursday evening we headed into town and had the rehearsal dinner at a beautiful restaurant. We didn't actually do any rehearsing...but were seated in a lovely outdoor setting with waterfalls and the moon overhead. The hour grew late and the kids were tired, but everyone seemed to really enjoy themselves.

The Baths ~ Virgin Gorda

Thursday morning I woke up with a mission: Go to The Baths.

The Baths are a series of enormous boulders strewn about the coast on Virgin Gorda, as if placed there by giants. Some of them are three-stories tall, and the way they are situated creates a really fun place to hike through right along the ocean. Not only were they huge, but the colors on them were amazing! I'd read about them before the trip, and really wanted to see them.

I walked into the villa just as two of the other guests,T&R, were leaving for this amazing place. Since I didn't have a car, they were gracious enough to let me tag along.

I should pause and say that the one and only bummer about this trip was that pretty much everyone there was part of a couple...making me a proverbial odd-woman out. I hope people didn't mind me bumming along for the ride. Everyone was very nice, of course, but this kind of situation always makes me feel a little insecure. It didn't make things any better that I kept forgetting stuff...like my wallet! I managed to make it all the way to the island (and home again, as far as I know) without losing anything. But while I was there I kept forgetting things and having to mooch stuff (equipment, money etc) till I could repay. Sometimes I swear if my head weren't attached...

Anyway. So we go to the baths and it was simply gorgeous! I loved finding alternate routes off the main trail. R was a great scout, and would check things out to see if they were passable, then T & I would scramble along after him.

At the end of these massive boulders, you enter into a small bay that was just perfect. We snorkeled and hung out. It was a remarkable day. I'm so grateful for the chance to see such beauty in this world! I know that a relatively small fraction of the population ever has.

This was also the day that my success in not getting sunburned ended. My back positively fried while snorkeling. I'm currently in the itchy-phase :-(

Day on the Trimaran

The morning after I arrived, we were informed that we were going on a sailing expedition aboard a trimaran. I'd never heard of a trimaran before. Till this trip, I'd been on one sailboat in my life, and that was 21 years ago when I was involved in a Dating Game-type activity. The bachelor I ended up picking took me on a sailboat in San Diego. Thankfully it was a double date, because he turned out to be an absolute creep, and I spent the entire day trying to get away from him on that little craft. But I digress.

This sailboat was massive! The Cuan Law has 10 staterooms, and a full staff to endlessly feed and entertain the passengers. The bride and groom had chartered it for the day, and we set sail from Virgin Gorda after breakfast headed towards Salt Island where we had a chance to do a few dives around the Rhone wreck. I did the two day dives, but opted out of the night dive.

We enjoyed a leisurely day of laying in hammocks getting to know each other, (over) eating, water skiing, diving, snorkeling, kayaking, sailing on the smaller hobie cats, and even enjoyed an impromptu dramatic production starring the passengers about the RMS Rhone and how she wrecked. After a scrumptious dinner, we returned to Virgin Gorda at 10pm.

Ahhh, Good times! I was one of the few people aboard who hadn't been on it before. I felt spoiled like a princess.

Flying over the Caribbean Islands In A 9-seater Prop

I'm back! The trip was amazing. I flew to San Juan, Puerto Rico, then hopped on a little plane flying low over the turquoise waters of the Caribbean to the island of Tortolla, in the British Virgin Island chain. From Tortolla, I took a ferry to the island Virgin Gorda.

Here are the pics I took sitting in the front right seat of the plane. The pilot sat in the left seat. Such fun! So breathtaking!

Hiatus

Stop the presses. I've actually run every other day for the past 10 days in a row. As that's gotta be some kind of personal best, I felt it worthy of noting for all you Team Blue people cheering me on.

I hope I can continue it this week. I will go tomorrow morning, and then tomorrow night I will be flying out to attend a friend's destination wedding. Now I admit, I'd never heard of a destination wedding till about 3 months ago, when someone else mentioned they were attending one. It's self-explanatory, I assume. But in case it's not, the bride and groom pick their wedding site and the attendees then get themselves to it. It's not generally in the home town of either of them. I suppose that the big Las Vegas weddings could be considered DW's.

Anyway, this is the private luxury resort where we're staying. It looks absolutely amazing. And since it's just the wedding party there, we have the beach to ourselves, and that is where the ceremony will take place at sunset on Friday. I'll be en route all day Saturday, trying desperately to make it home before Mother's Day arrives! I hope the Jumpseat Gods smile upon me for my journey (I wouldn't be able to go if I couldn't fly there for free).

I admit no small amount of guilt that I'm going to this event without any of my family with me. Doc is in the final 2 weeks of classes for med school. He takes Step One of the Medical Boards next month, then starts his rotations. These first 2 years have really blown by. He's loved them, but if the past couple weeks when he's been doing patient interviews and interacting with people in the hospital is any indication, he's going to enjoy the next couple years even more. Let the fun begin. And as for the kids, well, like I said, I wouldn't be able to attend if I couldn't fly there for free. The kids not only don't have passports, but they're still in school for another month. And they're not free. My only consolation is that next month during the 2 weeks Doc has off, we're all going as a family to Puerto Rico. That will be wonderful.

As I won't have internet access while I'm away, this marks the start of a week-long blogging hiatus. Pictures to follow after the trip. Have a great week everyone!

Darth Gator

So for Christmas, Gator was given some CDs. Not just any CDs, only the soundtrack of his FAVORITE MOVIE EVER! And ever since then we've been subjected to regular bouts of the following.

I caught this bit on video, and since Gator didn't notice that I was filming for the first 1:48 seconds, it really captured him. Enjoy! And May The Force Be With You...Always.

Recital

Bunch has a musical soul. She's not a virtuoso or anything, but so far she has played around on piano, recorder, harmonica, guitar and viola, and she also started singing about age 2. She was such a darling little songbird, singing her way through every day.

We were fairly belated in starting her with any kind of music lessons, which I feel kind of bad about. So far she's only had 15 months of piano instruction, but she seems to have a knack for sight reading. She has taught me things I didn't know about the language of music.

This past Sunday she had her 2nd piano recital. Last year she played two numbers and just nailed them both. If it had been gymnastics, she'd have scored a perfect 10.

This year she was also playing two numbers, which she had down solid. She'd played them a hundred times without a hitch. She was ready.

The moment arrived, she sat down at the piano, and started playing beautifully. She was about half way through the piece when all the sudden, out of the blue, she seemed to draw a complete blank. It wasn't a tricky part, and she'd never struggled with it before, but her mind was simply at a loss. She re-attempted it a couple times, looked up, almost confused and surprised at the situation. Her teacher came to her side, got her the sheet music, and she found her place in the song and played it through to the end.

This was akin to falling off the bars or balance beam in a gymnastics meet. Not that anyone was scoring her, mind you. But a moment like that can really throw the rest of your routine. Amazingly, Bunch quickly found some core of resolve within herself, and pulled it together. She finished the first song and then played her second number, which is a much more involved piece, without the music and she did a good job. I was so happy for her because it takes a lot to recover from something like that (even though she was understandably frustrated with herself at not nailing it.)

As we drove home afterwards and she wondered why that had happened, my mind went back to 17 years ago, when Doc and I went bungee jumping for our first anniversary. I had been excited about it right up till the moment of truth, when I stood at the precipice, and suddenly everything in me kind of froze. The survival instinct kicked in full-force, and I was having a hard time turning it off so that I could step off the fifteen-story tower into the air.

To stall, I asked the attendant at the top about other jumpers. "Are there people who don't have a problem with this?" He replied "Yeah, really little kids jumping for the first time. They don't have any fear because it's out of their realm of experience."

I explained to Bunch that when she was younger, she had no fear of performing for others. She stood before crowds and sang in her sweet, little voice without qualms. It was enough to melt hearts, truly. Then after a few years, she started to grow self-conscious...a natural part of growing up. Last year was her first recital, and she didn't have any basis of comparison. This year she let herself get a bit caught up with nerves. It happens to everyone.

Finding the confidence to just carry on and block everything except the task at hand from your mind is part of the natural process everyone in the public eye must go through. I explained that she'll come full-circle soon, and speaking, singing or performing in front of people won't be so nerve-wracking with time.

She's well on her way, too. Bunch is a hard worker, and we all are the beneficiaries of her efforts.

Here she is playing her second piece: Sarabnde by George Frideric Handel.