The War Against Boys - A Momma Lion Rant

As I went thru my files preparing for my big blog makeover I found this...

Here I go again.

Sorry, I can't help myself.

I look at my son and I want to pull out my sword and start waving it with heavenly strength at any harm that would come his way.

The problem is ladies, some of that harm comes in quietly and seemingly innocently while naive, "good" mothers stand by.

I am talking about PORN.

If you need one, here is it - my two by four across the face...

Porn is not a normal part of a boys/mans life.  

On the contrary it is the complete opposite of the wonderful, normal, sex that God created.

It is not normal for a teen to be introduced to it.

It is NOT a right of passage.

However, in this culture we welcome our teen boys into adulthood with a six-pack and a sleazy DVD and say, "Hey Buddy, now you're a man!"

I for one will be and am on the front lines of this issue in our home and thankfully, my husband is standing next to me, just as passionate that our boy's eyes and heart are protected.

What does it mean to be on the front lines?

It means you are hawklike, suspicious and always on your game.

It means, that in this area, you think that the worst could happen with his friends, his friend's fathers, etc.

Sorry, call me jaded.  I don't care.  

My allegiance is not to them.

Better jaded than naive and destroyed when I find out my son is addicted to filth.

I am not talking about being one of those women that walks around hating men, thinking they are all scum  I am just talking about not being a fool.  

Hawklike, suspicious and always on your game.

Children don't have to be exposed to pop culture.

It's not their right!

In fact, I believe they have a right NOT to be.

They don't need to know about the latest video game.

They don't need every electronic device as if that is some sort of normal part of childhood.

They don't need a computer in their room.

They don't need a T.V. in their room.

They don't need to know what the latest movies are.

They don't need to spend the night at their friends house!

I start with pop culture and connect it all the way to porn because it's the first step in desensitizing.  One afternoon watching M.T.V. or playing some video game where the women are dressed like skanks... even seemingly innocent "children's" movies where the parents are made out to be doting dorks and the "kids know best" can cause the foundation of you as a parent being trusted by the child to crumble.

People have said to me, "You can not shelter them forever".  Fair enough.  But TOO MANY parents use that as a copout at the very beginning as an excuse to be lazy about what they let into their home, when friends they let their kids play with, what school they let them attend... and on and on.

I am not stupid.  I know I can't shelter forever but I will while I can and during that time he will learn about sex from his father and I, he will be warned of what this world has turned it into as opposed to the fantastic experience that God intended. 

Will Aidan spend the night at friends houses?

Ha, ha, ha.  Are you kidding?  One wrong move, one wrong click of a mouse on some Dad's computer, one wrong movie rented and it's over - Pandora's box has been opened and in too many cases Mom's don't find out 'til a full blown addicted has occurred.

If your son is watching television after school, in the evenings, than dare I say, the box has been cracked.  The commercials and advertisements for other shows are shocking and if we don't think so than it's our own fault for being desensitized by a culture that worships sex.  

As a family we watch the NASCAR races on Sundays and the junk they show is AWFUL!  Our kids know to look away and close their eyes as Joel or I swing the cabinet door closed - I mean, have you seen those Go Daddy commercials?  If I am going to pay to watch a rated R movie than I can assume what's coming up, but I swear these ads blow my mind every time!  It makes me feel like such an old lady but I just can't believe them.  Aidan looks away without the slightest curiosity.  His trust in our judgement is so deep, it's as though he would be horrified to look at something we have told him is garbage.  

When I think of the T.V. on all the time, all over the country in the homes of sweet little boys who deserve to be protected it grieves me.  And challenges me to keep praying for the boys and the parents of the boys who will one day marry my daughters!

Moms Be Encouraged

Allow me to prattle.

I keep saying how much I miss my blog and yet I can't seem to find this time to get my fingers on these keys.  It's been a long couple months.  Baby girl is putting me through the ringer.  Sleep?  What's sleep?  It seems to only occur if I am laying next to her.  Alas, by the time I FINALLY get her calmed down it's anywhere between 9 and 11pm.   By then I've lost my mojo or any blogs I had written in my head while rocking her.

I'm trying to hard to be what the kids need me to be.  I vacillate between doing fine and freaking out - like any Mom I am sure.  During the freak out moments the self doubt kicks in.  What am I doing wrong?  Are my kids getting a proper education with all the time I spend with the baby?  How long should I let her SCREAM?  Even now, after a 45 minute soothing, nursing, calming down session I've been at the computer (IE: away from her) for ten minutes and she is screaming.

Be right back:)

The days dishes are half done and the sink is still full.
I'm tired of being on my feet.

Champagne please.

It's easy to wonder if you are having an effect isn't it?
All your hard work and nothing is ever perfect?  

Confessions of a type-A who doesn't have the time or luxury anymore of being a type-A.

Sheer mental torture.

Fear not.
This too shall pass.
And yes, you are having an effect.

It's awkward for me to share this cause no matter what I say, some will fine me boastful but that is not my heart - my heart is for encouraging you.

It's come to my attention recently from a good handful of different people that our little family does in fact impact lives (by God's grace and for His glory).  See, I get to believing the lie that those that come into our home can't really be ministered to if my floors are dirty, if Joel's forgotten to take the garbage bag I put on the porch out to the dumpster?  How could anyone feel God's love if I didn't get to wash my hair after my workout? 

Little lies.

I've had the privilege and encouragement of being told lately: how comfortable people feel visiting in our living room, how I've encouraged them in their motherhood, how the kids are enjoyable because they can interact with adults, how the food I offer my guests makes them feel loved...

These gracious words at times were too much and I'm afraid I didn't know how to receive them but the allowed me to see that it's not all in vain.  That the ministry that I hope comes from our family, from this farm is actually happening.  

And I would wager it's happening on your end too.  Perhaps you just haven't been told.   So I am telling you.  You Mom's who are on your knees for your kids, who Mom's who are trying to change the world one patient moment at a time - it's working.  I have to believe that.  You have to believe that.  

What you do does matter.

When you take that extra moment to discipline in the middle of chaos - it matters.
When you come to your babies and apologize for being a witch (as I had to do today) - it matters.
When you make someone a hot meal or send someone out the door with a special treat from your kitchen - in this fast food, microwave world - it matters.
When you crack open the Bible and just go over ONE verse with a child - it matters.  
When you stop nagging and sincerely love on and praise hubby IN FRONT of the children - it matters.

I come from a family where perfection, or the appearance of it matters.  I'm not disparaging them/that but coming to terms that perfection is not something I can hold myself to in this chapter of my life is important for me - I have to do that at least a couple times a week.  Now I could do it, that's just the energy and drive that I have but it would be at my families expense.   Instead I have to take a deep breath and pray for patience and grace constantly and see that perfection is not a ministry.  It might keep ME sane but it's not a real ministry - unless I am worshiping at the alter of myself.  Which alas, is where I often find myself.

Be encouraged.  Thanks for listening reading.
Angela
Parisienne Farmgirl

Red Lace? Um, Oui S.V.P.

One thing Amélie and I LOVE to do together is watch fashion shows.  When I got my "September Issue" I was so enchanted by the red lace dresses Dolce and Gabanna were showing I had to check out the show.

It was amazing!!!!!!!!! (as mentioned on FB) 

Run-on sentence coming -

The whole thing just blew my mind and my sweet girl who I am trying to raise "unplugged from the culture" - aside from wanting to groom her to have good taste... which I suppose is some sort of oxymoron if you are trying to raise a sheltered child... sigh... well, anyways half way during the show, in between her "oos and ahs" she said, with her hand pressed against her little heart, "I'm feeling a little jealousy in my heart right now Mom."

Oops.

Nice job Mom.

Way to teach your daughter to covet.

See, this is why the name Parisienne Farmgirl 

works so well for me. 

Who watches a fashion show during their farm chore break?

Anyways, I don't know if I will have enough of a figure by Christmas to want to make one for myself but my daughters as SO WEARING red lace for Christmas.  I am PRAYING JoAnn's has something that's not totally gauche and hideous.  I am not in the mood to hunt around online.  Remember the ordeal when I just wanted some "fricken plaid taffeta" a couple years ago?

Two years ago I made the taffeta dresses and skirt for myself - I don't think I ever showed you the Catherine Herrera inspired skirt - it was awesome but it's on another hard drive so still no photo.  Last year I wore my favorite top I bought in Paris ten years ago.  It's so amazing I will never get rid of it.  It's my go-to drama piece.

 I look so dear-in-the-headlights.  What you can't see is the moving boxes stacked to the ceiling on the other side of the room.  That, and the growing, shocker baby in my belly!!!

 
Anyways - are your thoughts turning to the holiday ensembles you will be putting together?

Why not?

Go for it.

Get glam.

Go fem.

Bedazzle.

OH look - in searching for a photo of that skirt I found our Easter pics from this year - big belly or not, I love navy and white.  See - you just gotta dress up!  It's so fun!!!

 

The time for dirty fingernails will be here again before we know it.

Angela,

Parisienne Farmgirl 

All images found under "red lace" google search.

Ding, Ding, Ding -- Round Five

And in this corner ladies and gentleman,
Weighing in at...

Well, I'll never tell.

It's about that time.  
Thursday it's been eight weeks since the baby, my beautiful Anaïs has been born and as usual, my thighs aren't getting the picture.  That is, that they once again need to FIT IN the picture.  No more oozing out the sides of photographs :)

Twenty lost so far.
Thirty to go fit into everything in my closet.
Forty to finally be my "dream weight" knowing that another pregnancy is not on the horizon.

I'm excited but I really am dreading this.
Dreading the sweaty hair and coinciding zits.
Dreading the aching muscles.
Dreading the "Oh, I think I am dead."  as I roll over in the middle of the night.
Dreading the aching feet.
(I have THE flattest feet in the world and working out makes them hurt SO BAD.  Honestly, I can do any work out you put in my face - I am just not a quitter that way - but the foot pain about does me in.
Dreading adjusting to the brand new shoes that are supposed to "help" said flat feet.
Dreading begging my family for ONE FRICKEN HOUR of "Mom time".  
Dreading how LONG it's going to take.

Yeah,
I am not looking forward to this.

But then again - I am.
I have type O blood and my good friend Beth tells me that we type-o-ers need brutal, exhausting workouts for our psyche.  I believe it.  I ride SO high after working out.  I feel unstoppable.

I am looking forward to ROCKING OUT with Turbo Fire.  I did it for the scheduled 120 days last year and it completely reshaped my figure - no, I didn't drink any of their silly shakes.  Forget Gillian - she scares the crap out of me.  Way too butch to get me motivated.  I love me some Chalene!

I am looking forward to zipping up those size sixes again - though, as usual it seems like such a pipe dream.

Like a horse waiting for the gun to blast I've got my blinkers on - looking not to the right  or to the left.  I just charge straight ahead 'til the weight is finally gone.  It will be the 5th time in eight years that I have lost 40-50 pounds.  I just can't believe that.  And I don't even follow the "high impact" example --  good lord -- my uterus would fall out after five births!

I am posting a couple videos from the series.  Turbo Fire is something I get REALLY passionate about - especially for Momma's cause I have seen how it just destroys "Mom problems"  and I love it that it's all about a schedule.  There is no guess work.  I just follow the schedule, try not to kick any kid in the face and carry on.  It builds and builds.  Serious - if you watch those DVD's that are only for the end of your schedule you think you will NEVER be able to do them and then you get there and you are strong enough and crazy enough!

Hard core.

Got to LOVE those hand weights!  Yes - you gotta wear them from day one no matter how weak your arms are!


Here come the flat abs.
Nice tri 's
Great bi's
And that awful fat glob above my knee cap will go away.  (I'm only 5'4 - extra weigh has no where to go but hang - ick.)
Bring on the "after burn" that Turbo is known for!

So....
Wish me well.

Oh boy.

Here I go.



And my favorite - get's me SOOOOO pumped!

Born on a Farm... Anaïs Madeleine's Birth Story

Well, it's been one week.

How is that possible?

Here she lies next to me, making those little sounds.  Those little sounds that you only get to enjoy for a few weeks out of your entire life as a mother.  

Deep breath- don't cry.

I never imagined a 5th baby could be late.

I read the stories of course but thought, Oh that's just ridiculous.

All my kids have been on their due date of a couple days before.
My last one was 11 days early so I just thought naturally of course...

At 39 weeks I was 3 cms just as I had thought, but hadn't really felt as much of that "grinding" as I should have.  You know, that feeling like they are doing a breakdancing head spin on your cervix???  And I hadn't had hardly any of those nerve shoots down the inner thigh... you know, the ones that make you jump in public, that you can't quite describe?  I call them zingers.  

So, I started to work for it.  Walking like CRAZY with the kids.  Dance parties EVERY night with them after dinner.  Then came 40 weeks and still no baby.  But oh!  The pressure!  I thought she was going to fall out if I moved wrong.  My walk began to look like I was riding a horse.  

It was not pretty.

Every day I thought - this is it.

I country danced with the kids.  I Lord-of-the-Danced with the kids (they are obsessed) I booty danced with... well, not with the kids.

HA!

Tues-day, I surprised the kids and took them to the theater to see Planes (don't bother).

 Earning BEST-MOM-EVER status.

Tuesday night.

Discomfort melt down.

Wednes-day.  Took them into town for new coloring markers at Target.
Earning Certifiably Crazy status.

Wednes-afternoon - got the house COMPLETELY picked up.  All my ducks in a row.

Wednesday night.

Discomfort melt down.

 And that was the straw that broke the camels back.

I was SO done. 

I wanted my baby.

Thursday morning I woke up at 5:05 and crept downstairs for my secret,

 I-can't-take-this-anymore weapon:

One mini bottle of vodka.

2-3 tablespoons of castor oil.

6-8 oz orange juice.

 Mix.

Slam.

Pray to not barf.

Hot shower.

Back to bed.

At 6:30 I woke up with that cramp.  

That contraction. 

 Not a braxton hicks, but the real one I had been waiting for!  Julien (still needy sometimes) nursed for about 5 minutes and I knew we were in business.  I sent him downstairs, rid myself of the effects of the castor oil (TMI - But come on, it's a birth story - the whole thing is TMI) 

and went back to sleep for an hour.

At 7:45 I woke up.

In pain.

SA-WEET!

Hollered for Joel to call my Mom and get her on her way (she watches the kids downstairs for us, but she lives an hour away).  Told him to call the midwife.

I got up, thru on a skirt and my favorite Minnie Mouse t-shirt and a little makeup just to feel human (cause that matters) and marched downstairs, announced to the family,

"I am going to walk the driveway!"

to the delight of my kids who began to celebrate the arrival of their baby!

Oh, and walk I did.

Back and forth.

Up and down.

Taking no mercy on myself.

For the first little bit I wasn't really contracting... 

and I just really pushed myself but then they kicked in.

Marching thru contractions with that awkward, there's-a-head-in-my-crotch gate.

I am Parisienne Farmgirl.

Hear me roar.

I had to rejoice.

It was beautiful out.

God had answered my prayers again - I always pray I will have my babies in daylight... pain is so much worse for me mentally at night.

There were no neighbors walking by with their dogs.

No one to wave to.

I was alone.

Well, not quite.

The chickens and the goats were cracking me up.

Everytime I would walk by they would run (in their run/pen) to follow me.

Then when I would walk back the other way they would follow in that direction.

Like an old Atari video game.

Soon children came out to run and play with kittens.

Soon I waved for Joel.

No more contractions on my own.

I needed him to hold on to.

Whoa.

Oh boy.

I think I walked out there the better part of an hour during which my Mom showed up - perfect timing.  Couldn't focus on anyone else now.  Then... there was that one contraction where I said to Joel that as much as I didn't want to, we had better head upstairs. 

Once we got upstairs things slowed down a bit.  

Just for a minute but I had two more contractions where I "heard myself" and I knew we were rockin.

With the one we were in the bathroom and I looked at Joel and said, "Where IS she?"
 Not REALLY wanting another bathroom delivery! 

Finally after what seemed like an eternity... I only later found out it was about 15 minutes from the time I came in from outside to the time the midwife and her two helpers arrived.  

I was back in the bathroom after walking up and down our little hallway and had another doozy.  She called from the hallway that she needed to "check me" after hearing those sounds, you know, that slight grunt at the end of the contraction, I don't blame her.

I told Joel, like I always do (especially after the blank-hole that attended my first birth -- I am still bitter.) that if it was "bad news" as far as my dilation, I didn't want to know.  Nothing is more defeating than going thru all that pain then to have someone tell you that you haven't progressed.  But, I was at SEVEN!!!
And she told me I wasn't quite ready to push but that
I could a bit if that would help me manage the pain.  

"So, I am not going to be doing this 'til 4 in the afternoon?"  I desperately asked.

"Oh, honey, You're gonna be holding this baby at lunch time."

"That's all I needed to know.  I am just going to sit here and cry now."

And wept I did.  Like I seem to always do in labor.

So emotional.

Then the transition.

Ugh.

One after another.

Me crying that I just wanted to sleep.

Me confused and walking back and forth from the bathroom to my bedside.

Walking, swaying.  Not knowing where to go... what to do.

Then this lady, who I had never met before hopped up on the bed across from me and told me "how great I was doing" and reminded me to breathe out and down to the baby... channel the air... use it.  Who the hell was she?

What the hell was she doing on my bed?

Her voice grated against me like sandpaper.

Didn't she know I've done this before... 

I almost slapped her.

But then I looked up, I knew she was right.

If you've ever helped a woman in labor before there gets that point for some where they need a little firm re-direction.  I obeyed.  In thru the nose, out thru the mouth, down toward the baby,
lowering my tones...

Then, that feeling,

That INCREDIBLE feeling that I will never feel again.

As crazy as  it sounds, despite what I was saying aloud my heart was saying,

"Remember this.  This is birth.  This is your baby coming down to meet you.  In however many years God blesses you with, remember this feeling of your baby... inches from your world."

It was an eternity.

It was a second.
 As I felt her finally break thru the cervix.

"Here she comes!"  I cried.

Two pushes and her head came out.

I was SO relieved I flopped forward on the bed and then realized she wasn't out.

 Everyone telling me to hold on.

I HATE THAT!

Screw you guys, I thought.

My contractions had stopped so I took a deep breath and pushed  

one-

more-

time.

That amazing feeling of the shoulder pop.

That second/eternity 'til you feel "the slither" - and you know it's over.

"Thank you Jesus" I must have said a hundred times.

"It's over."  a hundred more.

They untangled her (she was looped around her neck, shoulder, legs... no wonder they were telling me to hold on) and handed her to me.

And that was that.

The unexpected little one.

The one that rocked my world the morning after we moved to the farm.

I can still feel the world spinning, I'll never forget how I almost fainted.

I'll also never forget the tears I shed.

Thinking I was done having babies.

I struggled for so long with it.

I cried so many nights praying that God would take away the desire or else...

I guess He chose the "else".

****

Thank you Father for this new, "last time" I hold in my arms.

How in heavens name you see me... so fallen... fit to raise another child of Yours...

Our Clean Kitchen Answer (Or Reflections on Chaos)

"I don't know how you do it with four, and one on the way.  I have one and I am loosing my mind."

Someone said this to me about three weeks ago.  I stuttered.  I didn't know what to say.  It's not like I have NINE children.  I mean, anything you say is just going to make someone that says something like that feel bad.  Unless someone is truly coming to you for mothering/home management advice I suppose it's just better to make some sort of gracious smile in that situation.

I've lost my own mind many a time.

But... I will share with you that this mothering/homemaking thing... I take it VERY serious.  I think it's a wonderful... and even GLAMOROUS life.  Yes, glamorous... I suppose I should write on that...

 

Dishes storage - old Parisienne Farmhouse Christmas 2011.

 

I've had some pretty chaotic moments since moving out to this farm.  Today, I'll share with you about my kitchen.  Charming, lovely views, full of life and... 20 hours out of 24 - messy.  And that is SO not my style.  Things just got away from me... all those horrid weeks of morning sickness and my new adjustment to NOT having a dishwasher.  I used to SWEAR by my dishwasher.  I HATED washing dishes and I had such a lovely system in place at the old house (not saying my kitchen didn't have it's days - it surely did) but oh, that dishwasher could hide a multitude of sins.

Here, I have this HORRID RED SINK.  I hate it.  This crappy old faucet.  I hate that too.  And the task of dishes.  Lot's of them.  And not just dishes but pots and pans.  Oh, the agony of it all.  And nevermind the four little munchkins that can get as much food on the floor as they can into their mouths -- ok, not all four of them, but the baby.  GOOD GRIEF!  What a PIGGY!  On white floors no less.  

 Gray/blue fauxed cupboards (and un-finished shelf above:) New Parisienne Farmhouse.

There's been lots of tension around the messy sink.  It's practically impossible to get the whole kitchen cleaned up and start school on time (never mind running to the loo to puke in between plates).  So, nothing would ever get done to completion - after all, there were spelling words to do.  Then, a few subjects later I would have to jump up and begin lunch among the half, or one-quarter cleaned up kitchen.  (No PBand J here - Lunch is our biggest meal of the day since Joel is not here for dinner).

I had no solution but KNEW we couldn't go on like this much longer.  I just love a clean house and will confess, I can be quite a be-atch when the mess starts to get to my self-esteem.

Then... by the GRACE of God I had some time to read a blog I really enjoy the other day (On Just a Couple of Acres) and a solution that I KNEW would work for our family was presented.  It's been three days of this - which means we have done it 9 times.  Hubby loves it, the kids love it and I am one Happy Momma.  That is, till I walk into the laundry room - that's a whole 'nother blog post.

 

Talk about WANTING to put your dishes away - friend Susan's crystal cabs in the butlers kitchen/pantry.

 Yeah.  Need I say more.

Here is what we are doing --

Our kids LOVE classical music - this is something that pleases me so much.  (And thank God no one in the house would know a Justin Beiber song if it fell from the sky and smacked them on the head right now -- Though I will confess, I am itchin' to check out the new J.T. album).  I digress.  In school we lightly study a new composer every three weeks or so. 

I say lightly cause they are just 7, 5, and 3.  

In our family there is music playing a-lot.  Whether it's George Strait, Pink Martini, Old Hymns or Mozart -- and we do a lot of "time limit" types of things with the kids.  "Please go tidy up your room, you have ten minutes" or "Let's see how fast we can put this stuff away".  So I knew this idea would gel with our families mojo.

Here's what we do.  

After dinner everyone hops up and begins working.  (Now we aren't doing this the second the last fork is put down - we sing hymns together and make the children linger at the table so we can visit, but at a certain point "family table time" is finally over and we get to work).  Our kids were used to saying "May I be excused?" and then clearing their plate but that just wasn't enough.  So now, we hop up - I walk over to YouTube, crank the volume and start our song - a classical song, lasting fifteen minutes.  

Though we studied Tchaikovsky at Christmas (Nutcraker and all) we are using the 1812 Overture WITH CANNONS to kick off this new family habit.  The song is fifteen minutes, eight seconds and after nine times everyone knows it by heart.  Someone washes, someone drys, someone puts away, someone whipes counters, the floor gets swept and if it's the end of the day it gets mopped.  Towards the end everyone starts working like mad with those cannons blasting - it's such a beautiful song and within 15 minutes our kitchen in presentable.  And really, thought I have hard core fantasies of my house being as organized and immaculate as my Moms, Grammas or Aunts appears to be --I know that this is not the chapter in my life for that - I have too many other joys and responsibilities BUT I do want it presentable at all times.  

I think I deserve that. 

 I think my family deserves that!

Joel insists that I go back to Quinn's blog and leave a comment about how this has blessed our family.  It truly has.  We always gave the kids some part in the clean up (at the old house for example I stopped unloading the dishwasher when Aidan was five!) - but there is something about the absoluteness, how reasonable 15 minutes is, how motivating the music is that Joel and I believe is really going to stick and now they see all that goes into a clean kitchen.  It's not just Mom banished to the task for an hour while everyone runs off to do their own things.  Subsequent meals have been on time and stress has gone down.  We are just thrilled.

Here is a list of music that Quinn put together (all about 15 minutes) and by all means, check out her blog and read the original post.

These are all links to Amazon but for quick music fixes we use YouTube all the time.

Bach- Fantasia in C Minor
Mozart- Piano Concerto No. 25 in C

Chopin- Piano Concerto No. 2 in F Minor

Strauss- Tales from the Vienna Woods

Tchaikovsky- 1812 Overture

Stravinsky- Concerto in D Minor for Violin & Orchestra

Purcell- King Arthur

Beethoven- Symphony No. 9 in D Minor

Rossini- William Tell Overture (13 minutes, maybe for really easy nights.... more motivating than opera)

Wagner-Tannhauser Overture

Dvorak- Concerto in B Minor for Cello and Orchestra

Ravel- Bolero

Vivaldi- The Very Best of Vivaldi (Mix & Match... I couldn't find anything about 15 minutes.)

Haydn- Cello Concerto No. 2 in D Major

Mendelssohn- Piano Concerto in A Minor

Grieg- Peer Gynt Suite No. 1

Rachmaninoff- Piano Concerto No. 3 in D Minor

Bartok- Concerto No. 2 for Violin and Orchestra

Scarlatti- Su le sponde del Tebro

Handel- Water Music
Paganini- Violin Concerto No. 2 in B Minor
Schumann- Papillons
Liszt- Ballade No. 2 in B Minor
Gilbert & Sullivan- The Mikado: Finale, Act One
Sibelius- Symphony No. 2 in D Major
Schubert- String Quintet in C Major
Verdi- Falstaff Act 1
Brahms- Sextet in B flat Major
Debussy- Jeux (Games)
Shostakovich- Symphony No. 8 in C Minor
Telemann- Overture in F Major
Joplin- The Entertainer (Mix & Match)
Sousa- Greatest Military Marches (Mix & Match)
Gershwin- Rhapsody in Blue
Copland- Short Symphony
Foster- The Songs of Stephen Foster (Mix & Match)

Here's to a scoured (albiet horrid, red sink) 

and crumb free counters.

Much Affection,

Angela

Parisienne Farmgirl