tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-57134541272096647412024-02-08T02:57:17.626+01:00Hedreich English Newsbruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comBlogger162125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-7098829976810646422019-01-28T02:40:00.001+01:002019-01-28T02:41:46.206+01:00Red Yellow Black And White<span style="font-size: large;">For the MLK holiday weekend, I was invited to see my friend's daughter in a step show. I eagerly looked forward to it, as visions of 80s Greek picnics danced in my head. The raw energy and sensuality of alpha males and females stomping on the yard was coming to a venue near me! Never mind that these were K-12 kids coming to honor and celebrate MLK. Never mind that this was a school function. Never mind that as a teacher, somewhere in the recesses of my mind, I'm sure I had a clear picture of the scope and sequence of the performance expectations. In my mind, this step show was going to superimpose itself onto my memories and transport me back to my college days. For me, that time was after fireside chats and long before anyone dreamt that someone who looked like Barack Obama would become #44. MLK day had yet to be celebrated as a holiday and #metoo was only expressed in silent tears. The phrases "white privilege" and "implicit bias" had yet to coined, as had "growth mindset" and the belief that every child can learn. Fortunately, society--and classrooms-- have seen some changes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Turns out, step show culture has seen some changes as well. My memories scooched over and made room for golden character shoes, diverse cultural and gender backgrounds, canned music, dramatic interpretation, and well designed sets and backdrops.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Fireside chats were a minute ago, so many of these things may already be the norm. And while I won't go into what year found me at my last step show, I will go into bias: Any time a memory has to "make room" for a new or changing status quo, the weeds of rose colored bias probably still need to be rooted out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">As I sat and gleefully applauded the hard work and amazing craftsmanship of each team, I kept thinking, "Oh, I don't remember that, that's new", which means, somehow, I was judge, not just spectator. I enjoyed the show immensely. My own "performance" however, left me a bit perturbed, and, if I am honest, disappointed. I am inclusive, open-minded, grounded in my own beliefs but stopping WAY short of insisting that others live by them. I am, really inclusive, right? Or does my traditional Christian upbringing make me more judgmental? Does my African-American cultural background make me too quick to see cultural appropriation over cultural appreciation? Does my status as a cisgender, Gen X female give me an inborn perspective that I cannot see beyond? Finally and more importantly, if and when I find biases, do I make sure to stomp them out so that I can greet all of my students--all people--with acceptance and human kindness? </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you have not asked yourself any of these questions, you probably have some unearthed bias to deal with. </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html" target="_blank">Harvard's Implicit Bias Project</a> is a great place to start. The </span><span style="font-size: large;">"white privilege" mindset is not reserved for </span><span style="font-size: large;">whites only. We all learn perspective and bias, it's human and normal. Perspective has its place, bias does not. We should challenge ourselves to move beyond it, and as educators, it is imperative that we do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It turns out that I liked gold character shoes, the poetic odes and skits, and all the other shiny new spins I saw. The essence was there, and the MLK holiday step show did remind me of my own time on the yard, back in the day. More importantly, it reminded me that I, like this country, have come along way, but still have a long way to go.</span>bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-57918591967827641292015-11-02T15:55:00.001+01:002015-11-02T15:59:14.010+01:00Seasons Change<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1FrIwrYsK3r8W40tdgO2aWsW0mgmg_l_sKMdrg99_I-aDLWnaNe7cWULk4hxzTmVJvulyFOkcEzA_SIk3Fq9t2lVhqkYiRc-cnvs9cSHp2xlvcUZ8e7lFq-P0xpuF64Sk09_Mmd_hZU/s1600/Chris+n+clownie+in+herbstwald.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr1FrIwrYsK3r8W40tdgO2aWsW0mgmg_l_sKMdrg99_I-aDLWnaNe7cWULk4hxzTmVJvulyFOkcEzA_SIk3Fq9t2lVhqkYiRc-cnvs9cSHp2xlvcUZ8e7lFq-P0xpuF64Sk09_Mmd_hZU/s320/Chris+n+clownie+in+herbstwald.JPG" width="320" /></a>As you know, there have ben a lot of things in the air. Some balls have dropped, some are still spinning mid-air. One thing's for sure: THIS season is coming to a championship ending! I played hard, had a lot of wins and I can almost see the view from the mountain top! As with all games, there is a lag time between the season's end and the championship game. I'm still waiting on that one and when it gets here, I'll tell ya aaaaallllll about it. Meanwhile, time to enjoy fall's color concerto. To get you started, here's my all-time favorite autumn picture.bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-30009487958629845532015-09-23T06:19:00.001+02:002015-09-23T06:19:24.987+02:00Hard Knock Life<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXLv2hK6ZeZpYlcd9FoYJLX6XOVEtYobl_ctmnP_hMP5fVVHjOKAXCKAzHaAhVi5L4ojBdBBcUYhqQUFZ_Z-ZlbV8obxrWbuqKV6kZVldkpqaKGDnrgdznYbAtwzWbn-ZptYQ91d1oTY/s1600/20141223_170241.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXLv2hK6ZeZpYlcd9FoYJLX6XOVEtYobl_ctmnP_hMP5fVVHjOKAXCKAzHaAhVi5L4ojBdBBcUYhqQUFZ_Z-ZlbV8obxrWbuqKV6kZVldkpqaKGDnrgdznYbAtwzWbn-ZptYQ91d1oTY/s320/20141223_170241.jpg" width="180" /></a>There are some times in life when it's full court press time. For those non-sports fans, that's the time when it's down to the wire in a basketball game and everybody is working overtime to win. Well, basketball ain't the only place where games need be be won. Life is one big ole playing field and if you're in it to win it, sometimes sleep, home cooking and the gym take a back burner because the business of winning the game requires nothing less than full concentration and overtime. It's those times when you ignore the longing for a shower and massage and get your head completely in the game. Those moments feel like hard times. But, when it's all over, the final release is oh so sweet. When you shoot your best shot and watch that ball arch, wondering--no, knowing--no, hoping--no, praying-- that it will drop just right, it's an amazing, scary, awesome, scary, powerful, scary feeling. And that hard knock life? Well it turns into...Come back next month. I'm still waiting on the buzzer so cheer me on!bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-69995162878604595582015-07-06T03:27:00.000+02:002015-07-06T03:27:06.114+02:00Love is an Open Door<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3joGVotjh15n7PYlkrZTk356vLMQJo5Mwp2bi7ptFBkY7d3KKXluGNbIuRDQ2ntKXlWrQcux94dV9ZRJuFOUBdUFgCcZwTluGHxJy-q-nDj_Hqi_YONgUwu_C_N6XD0YDZl5AL7Jl4Ac/s1600/Elsa+Anna+and+hedreich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3joGVotjh15n7PYlkrZTk356vLMQJo5Mwp2bi7ptFBkY7d3KKXluGNbIuRDQ2ntKXlWrQcux94dV9ZRJuFOUBdUFgCcZwTluGHxJy-q-nDj_Hqi_YONgUwu_C_N6XD0YDZl5AL7Jl4Ac/s320/Elsa+Anna+and+hedreich.jpg" width="320" /></a>Working with the under 10 set has helped me to see that there are still major lessons to be learned from Disney's blockbuster <i>Frozen. </i>And seeing some of the nastiness of the social media offerings over the last couple of weeks leaves me no alternative but to remember out loud what my Grandmother taught me, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all". I'm sure there are grandkids all over the country who were taught the same thing. So why have so many of us forgotten?! At the risk of sounding pious: social media musings cloaked in semi-anonymity are not exempt from this rule.<br />
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There was a song from Sting a few cold war moons ago in which the recurring line told of the Russians loving their children too. He continued with, "we share the same biology regardless of ideology". Sting's not from the US but it would seem his grandma taught him that we can agree to disagree-- in peace. Love really is an open door that we can choose to walk through when we eschew hateful rants and remarks. Kindness leaves bridges in tact no matter what our beliefs, and choosing love over hate makes us all winners every time. Without that door we are walled up behind our ideologies and ideals lofty or base, depending on who's rating. Not hate or bitterness but Love<br />
is an open door.bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-53833774793233243642015-06-05T18:19:00.002+02:002015-06-05T18:20:42.092+02:00Easy As ABC<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Sometimes it's not the big stages, the sold out concert halls or the Baroque churches. Sometimes it's watching young Mr. Landin play "Watermelon Man" on his first gig with a live band or watching "Uncle Sonny" sing "My Girl" for the first time in 40 years. It's singing Gladys' "I got ta go' in harmony with Miss Lynn and playing MD with your Sunday morning band doing Saturday night music. And sometimes it's watching the mantel pass as your son sings the Jackson 5 hits of the Michael Jackson we 70's kids remember from our childhood. Sometimes it's easy as ABC and Music doesn't get any better than that!bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-74245168429158885402015-04-23T02:11:00.000+02:002015-04-23T02:11:10.961+02:00New Attitude<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgz5MaSeX7ItIZrR9ZDREumIic_J7vIDfZATAoskrqKRSboBIW0i8XywBXGiVgr4dlcb4V39Ahg585bumC9U_KK5j8JlooikGQcKTDfVZKs8eDWsKJbzTdailRJ2avY4m1Dw_ai5fcBs/s1600/Easter+2015+dress+envy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEgz5MaSeX7ItIZrR9ZDREumIic_J7vIDfZATAoskrqKRSboBIW0i8XywBXGiVgr4dlcb4V39Ahg585bumC9U_KK5j8JlooikGQcKTDfVZKs8eDWsKJbzTdailRJ2avY4m1Dw_ai5fcBs/s1600/Easter+2015+dress+envy.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
Something about the springtime smell of sunshine and roses in full bloom seems to give me an extra shot of motivation. With school coming to an end the German word "Aufbruch" comes to mind. It's a word that means "awakening" or "start". Life is cyclical and this year one cycle is ending and another is beginning. Time to put all that knowledge to good use. It's a little bit scary, quite frankly. Endings and beginnings always are. But they are also a lot like the dawn. Before the sun comes up, it's impossible to see what the day will be like but then, the sun comes over the horizon and you can see forever. Of course, the day may be grey and cloudy but at some point, hours, days--weeks, if you're in London--later, the skies clear and you're on you're way. That's where I am now. I've got a new attitude and I'm on my way!bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-61429100328455854932015-03-20T15:22:00.000+01:002015-03-20T15:23:41.878+01:00Circle of Life<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiEnX4UzbcqY_eXuL3SwoujdOVDRp9rA-VqNnz3joWj2GQdsnpbSRohOuWmNC40dzLj52l3ptRI3ZaT0DI_QPJwqFdlie9KWO13BhjuT0X8NwOdGt1JvRqUTO94xL4UBWUe9DIaMkKrRg/s1600/baby+bren.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiEnX4UzbcqY_eXuL3SwoujdOVDRp9rA-VqNnz3joWj2GQdsnpbSRohOuWmNC40dzLj52l3ptRI3ZaT0DI_QPJwqFdlie9KWO13BhjuT0X8NwOdGt1JvRqUTO94xL4UBWUe9DIaMkKrRg/s1600/baby+bren.jpg" height="200" width="142" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Brenda Waters, 1944</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhfaQcIwAHYryrEwuSwODXZVVRzrojXyKWlfEE8oy50TETUNBJcVqURyWAfq-u_ZpeUkgj9rMSP1YUbMw3ymWIBr5zlWVNf3E9ykqr9K0JEu-q-irwN1e04oEUUAM-_NgETRkY4grlxno/s1600/bren+twin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhfaQcIwAHYryrEwuSwODXZVVRzrojXyKWlfEE8oy50TETUNBJcVqURyWAfq-u_ZpeUkgj9rMSP1YUbMw3ymWIBr5zlWVNf3E9ykqr9K0JEu-q-irwN1e04oEUUAM-_NgETRkY4grlxno/s1600/bren+twin.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Brenda Water's Grandson, 2004</td></tr>
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Ten years is a long time. A whole decade. An era. Music changes, fashion, media, life itself. This year marks ten years without the single most influential woman in my life. She was my very first music teacher, my very first friend, the first person to ever teach me about God. Her music touched me from the very first moments of my being. The wisdom she imparted guides my decisions even now. Her joy at being still rings in my own laughter. She was the first person to ever love me and although I have been blessed to be loved by many, no one will ever love me like she did because no one loves like a mother does. The woman she was influenced the woman I am in countless, immeasurable ways from the way I write to the way I sing to the way I mother my own child. She was strong, beautiful, talented, funny, expressive and a great woman of faith. Ten years truly is a long time but when someone has been that strongly interwoven into the fabric of who you are, ten years is just long enough to let you finally realize that they never left. --<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> In tribute of Brenda Waters, my mother, my friend.</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span></i>bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-29950591136440242852015-01-15T18:00:00.000+01:002015-01-15T20:56:04.206+01:00It's All So Beautiful<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMbQPHwA6g_xbbMaEpyZiFkRAq-ee_KgWvHwk0bksxFeI-8HK_ck-TiqKkE6AhIFggZ5nzojWN3xrSRijwmqKc9tBM7XlATJAMX_9r5PYC8OL3G_eY5y_E-52Oy9YUS2xO2Ll38TjE_o/s1600/20141126_123848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTMbQPHwA6g_xbbMaEpyZiFkRAq-ee_KgWvHwk0bksxFeI-8HK_ck-TiqKkE6AhIFggZ5nzojWN3xrSRijwmqKc9tBM7XlATJAMX_9r5PYC8OL3G_eY5y_E-52Oy9YUS2xO2Ll38TjE_o/s1600/20141126_123848.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a>A child of the 70s has arrived in StarDate "twenty-fifteen"! I remember when 20anything sounded far away and futuristic. And now we have arrived. While recently watching an episode of Star Trek TOS I enjoyed seeing how many things we have that good old Gene Roddenberry "saw" in the 60s. Flip phones, Siri, translators and stun guns have all been in use in some form or other. And yet it is a very different world from the one we watched from the bridge of the Enterprise. From my perch on the bridge of a ziplining course, we are still here on earth and will be in the foreseeable future. You would think that would make us live more purposefully as a species. And maybe, this time of year, we do. For a short time, the year is new and we dive into it full of Great Resolutions to do Great Things. Usually by March, magazines stop featuring new diets and even paying for the gym membership wont get us off the sofa. Weekly date nights with spouses fall by the wayside and we have indeed screamed at our kids. More than once. <br />
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I have an idea. How about we stop making Great Plans excepting this: Be grateful, be forgiving and live purposefully. That's it. Wake up, be thankful and remember that each moment is a gift. Hey, even the lousy ones are preferable to the alternative. So just be the best <i>you</i> you can be, each day. Some moments will be stellar. Many will have you crying for do-overs. But forgiveness starts with self. There are no do-overs. So just simply, do your best, as bestest as it can be in any given moment. That's my plan. And I am finding, moment by purposeful moment, life can be Oh. So. Beautiful!<br />
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<br />bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-30529931301230591082014-12-14T16:05:00.001+01:002014-12-15T05:37:45.867+01:00Forever Young<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrnbzYE8TDYsVJnmrD7w-9qa75QeeUTeKkyrkk5bSkjBLWaQvXXCguTs_mLk7jUkGQi0fPSUoF8s6HK6YhH6qXq0qdUDXv4CFO5CUowd5UWZ1UrNZQ5fonKtvFL5sX-UiY14aWYQ8AXe0/s1600/birthday+2014+aunt+Jean.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrnbzYE8TDYsVJnmrD7w-9qa75QeeUTeKkyrkk5bSkjBLWaQvXXCguTs_mLk7jUkGQi0fPSUoF8s6HK6YhH6qXq0qdUDXv4CFO5CUowd5UWZ1UrNZQ5fonKtvFL5sX-UiY14aWYQ8AXe0/s1600/birthday+2014+aunt+Jean.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a>I remember being 8. I never thought my birthday and Christmas would "never come". I never thought about them at all. Time would creep by without my knowing. The year was always full with friends, family, school, performances, summer vacation and days of playing outside till the street lights came on. Suddenly, Thanksgiving would come and with it the first appearances of the Signs Of Christmas. (For my younger readers, there was a time when Halloween did not ring in the Christmas Season.) From that moment on I could not WAIT for My Birthday. Not a lot has changed. I still love My Birthday and wait anxiously for it. This has been a great year after a few really rough ones. Seasons really do change and feeling the warmth of Springtime after a long, hard winter has been amazing! I celebrated my birthday at a ladies' tea with women who have provided immeasurable support throughout this incredible journey we call life. While my Swissters couldn't get here and a few key players were missing, the women there reminded me of my connectedness. They reminded me that the only child with neither mother nor father is not alone but a part of a larger circle of love. My birthday was a celebration of life, survival, love and the wonderful thing that happens when friendships blossom and deepen! Those connections affirm that he who walks in the light of love is truly forever young. Happy Springtime, Happy Birthday, Hedreich!bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-65256643500284573732014-09-15T05:42:00.001+02:002014-09-15T05:42:03.748+02:00Starting Over<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTDzgx-nw2JnvrMKUdKiSOheCJIEJxqqF8hWDs7QncQcIrB3WQij4l_-GXgX6WVZxeUEgWlkXeCJvrRLpsN8AAPQ2rp50BFGpoWuCZovB2nQsn2GTJsQwVl7ofTzAv2qVFD1YZuDkOaE/s1600/hedreich+and+olaf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNTDzgx-nw2JnvrMKUdKiSOheCJIEJxqqF8hWDs7QncQcIrB3WQij4l_-GXgX6WVZxeUEgWlkXeCJvrRLpsN8AAPQ2rp50BFGpoWuCZovB2nQsn2GTJsQwVl7ofTzAv2qVFD1YZuDkOaE/s1600/hedreich+and+olaf.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
Amazing how time really does fly when you're having fun. Except for a moment or two, this was just the greatest summer! I saw Elsa and Anna and Olaf at Disney, hit water park slides, amusement park coasters, rode trails, swam lakes, saw knights and medieval instruments of torture, had friends and family visit and visited with friends and family. All this fun I had in the company of the world's most wonderful 10 year old. And then, almost without warning, Summer was over and there were a host of new starts. A pair of Harry Potter-esque glasses and a new school for my 5th grader. Fitting an 'upright' into the car for the school orchestra's newest bassist. The search for a Boy Scout troop as he earns his Arrow of Light. For me, finding a single-mom-student-budget car to replace my wheezing mom-mobile before she leaves us stranded on the road. Getting rid of the post-divorce trauma poundage. Training for my first 5k ever. Oh and starting the last semester before getting on the licensure train to graduation and certification. Talk about the dog days of summer being over!<br />
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The sudden cold snap reminded me that we are not frozen, stuck in any one stage of life. Seasons change. After a very, VERY long season of difficulty and challenge, it seems that my day to day challenges resemble more closely a spring than an impending fall. I am deeply grateful for a moment of respite and even more grateful for a loving Father who safely guided me through the darkest of times.<br />
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For the first time in forever, I'm enjoying starting over.bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-63562361613814748822014-07-09T03:16:00.000+02:002014-07-09T05:12:16.606+02:00Summertime...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDG-aP_LX3Y9-D20fWREN9Y8o94BULzLWYG4Hy-ZxLLieRwcuV9orJgDLviOdKDEUbASZz11pcWNcN6jI_Q5YktYSsRbKlbUK4nRwabqZmfTIZoUvx5RN0tqm5cCxaWg9uSj0ocZ8kTY/s1600/me+in+garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQDG-aP_LX3Y9-D20fWREN9Y8o94BULzLWYG4Hy-ZxLLieRwcuV9orJgDLviOdKDEUbASZz11pcWNcN6jI_Q5YktYSsRbKlbUK4nRwabqZmfTIZoUvx5RN0tqm5cCxaWg9uSj0ocZ8kTY/s1600/me+in+garden.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
...and the living is easy! I love this time of year. Even though I am never short on lesson plans to write, music to arrange, homework to finish and a never ending barrage of kid stuff to play host/chauffeur for, it still feels like the living is easy. Maybe because without the daily school run, all the other stuff seems less jumbled up and squished in. Maybe it's because the warmth gives a special glow to my son's skin and eyes. Or maybe it's because I am finally starting to realize that relationships mean more than a completed to-do list. A day of studying will have to be recouped no doubt. But spending a day with my multi-generational sister-friends nourishes the soul. And taking time to ooh and ahh over the summer camp war wounds proudly earned in a game of Capture the Flag cements mother-son camaraderie for the years to come. The living is easy when we allow it to be. Even the most difficult moments can be simplified with faith, friendship and a healthy dose of fun and shared laughter. July 4th fireworks remind me that the days are already getting shorter whether we've noticed or not. Be sure to relish the sunshine and warmth of summer. It does a body--a soul-- good.bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-43819763938560181672014-05-21T07:44:00.000+02:002014-05-21T07:45:47.070+02:00All Night Long<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz94a7gwDphfWm08-md9IRhXCOBGFI2zcZCnXIC1WgHLsXqUaEsJNNbcBEOp8l0LDQ7MoeP1xLpPbM2t39DP6oEwqg9xqMutWWIYmjgy8ehC5iwuLtfeT3lw6947RdLwGJROigWAKsPBs/s1600/Slide1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz94a7gwDphfWm08-md9IRhXCOBGFI2zcZCnXIC1WgHLsXqUaEsJNNbcBEOp8l0LDQ7MoeP1xLpPbM2t39DP6oEwqg9xqMutWWIYmjgy8ehC5iwuLtfeT3lw6947RdLwGJROigWAKsPBs/s1600/Slide1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a>I'm sure that when Lionel Ritchie wrote that tune he was not thinking of late night statistics and laundry sharing space with arranging and choreography. But having recently celebrated my son's 10th birthday as well as my 5th Mother's Day as a mom on my own, I realize more than ever that time waits for no one. Five years is a kind of landmark, a time to reflect but mostly a great hallelujah time of "How I Got Over". It's like the official beginning of a new chapter. Life is a wonderful whirlwind of performances, little league, field trips, instrument acquisition, hunger relief events, band practice, new music, friends, family and well, laundry and permutations. And even when it takes me all night long, I am overjoyed to be able to...well, I'm just joyful. The dryer buzzer just went off so I gotta go. But the pic will let you know what else is going on. Stop on by. We'll leave a light on fer ya!bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-416596954750086812014-03-23T22:42:00.000+01:002014-03-23T22:42:34.079+01:00Heb's Guet (Take Care)
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrdXSXJlqHfiTXP3dYZ_rse-gqVdyq_s1j5FT85pkYSm-g8ATuyDJohNUl4p2_c0qRo0lZOR4dBqyd5TXAaSqEUCqZSSkcJtVoBJegIWjuLEuqdoLIHxfAMP3jaappxkK8AAhei4UGP4/s1600/CAM01558-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjrdXSXJlqHfiTXP3dYZ_rse-gqVdyq_s1j5FT85pkYSm-g8ATuyDJohNUl4p2_c0qRo0lZOR4dBqyd5TXAaSqEUCqZSSkcJtVoBJegIWjuLEuqdoLIHxfAMP3jaappxkK8AAhei4UGP4/s1600/CAM01558-1.jpg" height="200" width="106" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h4>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Concert time in Bülach</i></span></span></h4>
</td></tr>
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<span lang="DE-CH" style="mso-ansi-language: DE-CH;">While
standing at the cash register in my old home Switzerland, the song "Heb's
Guet", from the Swiss band Plüsh, came on. After a few days of music making in Switzerland, it seems Glarnerland was saying goodbye to me. The song
says basically, "take care and hold me in your heart. Whatever comes, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>believe in yourself, don't doubt. And when you're at a loss, think of me". I had to hold back
the tears. Leaving the place/friends/family I've held dear for 17 years is
never easy. But it's a natural part of this journey we call life. People come,
go, die, move away, return and occasionally drop off our radar forever. We can
only hope that the time we spend with those we love leaves a lasting impression
and the solid knowledge of that love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<!--EndFragment-->bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-74684176643262934732014-02-18T21:29:00.000+01:002014-02-18T21:29:09.806+01:00We Are the Champions
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7WcjpSkvyv3bfIuab6iafFf5s5RfS-OLZuQiDoGandhUGdJHykzdRBgeWSQ6PjI8pKUY2varaRQO8vb87LxfE44jLVypJ9feTzGukGPXoiBwmpjBBKhYn601_BjfMq8WIMGVSofO2Vs/s1600/hed+faking+hockey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_7WcjpSkvyv3bfIuab6iafFf5s5RfS-OLZuQiDoGandhUGdJHykzdRBgeWSQ6PjI8pKUY2varaRQO8vb87LxfE44jLVypJ9feTzGukGPXoiBwmpjBBKhYn601_BjfMq8WIMGVSofO2Vs/s1600/hed+faking+hockey.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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Every four years, the Olympic spirit always infuses me with
a special kind of inspiration. I inevitably end up skiing or ice-skating,
undaunted by my--ahem--very marginal talent on any slippery surface. Watching
this year's Olympics with my own progeny, I am somehow transported to my
grandmother's living room. Listening as my great-grandmother, born in 1893,
scoffed at the briefness of the ladies' costumes, we watched the 'thrill of
victory, the agony of defeat' --and some really inspiring commercials. Now, while
listening to the fatherly voice of Morgan Freeman, I reflect on victory, defeat
and "my everywhere". Not only did this month find me on the ice NOT
falling on my keester, it finds me going for my personal best. Back in school,
singing, teaching and nurturing an active, always-hungry male tween, I am at
the top of my game. I have to be. The investment thus far leaves me with only
one option: WIN! Yes, sometimes there is incredible pressure and there are of
course setbacks. But KNOWING that I'm going for a win keeps me focused and on
track. Much better than being #everywhere, I am right here, right now, <i>in the
moment</i>, with a path as clearly marked as the downhill run. Best part is, I know
that getting there is not half the fun, it <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">is</i>
the fun. So at the end of each day am thankful for my victories, wiser for my
setbacks and overjoyed to know that I don't have to wait 4 years to go for gold
all over again. </div>
<!--EndFragment-->bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-1028697260628686802014-01-13T05:46:00.000+01:002014-01-13T05:46:44.156+01:00Mama's Got a Brand New Bag
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdZCd-FwjLcwgOlRsdH6wbTBmBYq1yucTIaYGsuWMYoTuA8hakDoeyXzZivwluBB5zMID8u8dm9-jSYuh0tBIBrtrPCIE3uOIk0JrFjxl_OEIZ9TPj2QCySonG8NBbDPfD_UK6Ysr4VY/s1600/Visage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdZCd-FwjLcwgOlRsdH6wbTBmBYq1yucTIaYGsuWMYoTuA8hakDoeyXzZivwluBB5zMID8u8dm9-jSYuh0tBIBrtrPCIE3uOIk0JrFjxl_OEIZ9TPj2QCySonG8NBbDPfD_UK6Ysr4VY/s320/Visage.jpg" width="232" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><h3>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> <i>Hedreich as</i> Visage<i> byT. Lavalais</i></span></h3>
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Hello 2014! It's been a helluva last 5 years.</div>
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<br /></div>
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In 2008 I had the house, the car, the career and the
family<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>when a shocking call from a
doctor blew it all to bits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
ensuing 5 year traumagedy easily rivaled Shakespeare and almost got me a box
seat in a little blue room. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Now, 1 down-to-there weave, husband and Swiss village dream house
lighter, my life is open road to a peaceful future filled with whatever I choose.
Now, if I'm honest, there are days when that road has felt more like a stony,
pothole filled road to who-knows-ville. But as O says, what I know for sure is
that once grieving for the past is done, embracing change can be a beautiful
thing. It's like getting a blank canvas. Well, maybe not blank, more liked
erased, which is better than blank.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All that water under the bridge, those tested and discarded colors and
brushstrokes can now be recycled, reused and re-invented to make something
fresh and new. I take pride in the picture that's starting to emerge. I don't know if I'm "faster than a speeding bullet or more powerful than a locomotive" But I am blessed to be able to gather speed and fly, the world mine for the
taking! Or retaking. So watch out y'all, 'cause mama's definitely got a brand
new bag!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-58761957629276111432013-12-22T14:36:00.000+01:002013-12-22T14:40:43.370+01:00Nearly Like a Picture Print<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjo51gD7aHICUS4W_6sMS6cMM8Y3bUE6HnL5kv5uma8-lpKVVianK9EIZidCkxTmLG-5REcwBa1U_YfnFx283K62PYEUCdS68M3P01c4IZhwh6koZgdl-xlP14Dg5fA3YLDllaYB8w54/s1600/baby+chris+santa2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBjo51gD7aHICUS4W_6sMS6cMM8Y3bUE6HnL5kv5uma8-lpKVVianK9EIZidCkxTmLG-5REcwBa1U_YfnFx283K62PYEUCdS68M3P01c4IZhwh6koZgdl-xlP14Dg5fA3YLDllaYB8w54/s320/baby+chris+santa2.jpg" width="320" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">While December makes us all want to see the world through
Christmas colored glasses, the downside is that we get our knickers in a bunch
when something happens to make our family-friend diorama look less than Currier
and Ives perfect. Given, perfidy hurts, especially when it's an inside job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But here's the neat thing. EVERYTHING
in life is about perspective. Time, distance, the angle and sometimes just a
keen eye for finding beauty everywhere can switch on Hurt's very own healing
properties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, this month I got
b...lindsided and my Christmas colored glasses flew off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But; </span>I have experienced the magical kindness of stranger-friends, been carried in difficult moments,
cheered on in achievement and mercilessly spoiled for my birthday (sogar ein
Herz-zopf habe ich bekommen!!). I
even got a special-delivery belated Thanksgiving dinner delivered to my empty
fridge when I returned home (her mom even made pie!). Most of all, I have been able to sow seeds of love and
friendship as well as reaping the benefits thereof. In all this and more I have
been repeatedly reminded that I am loved and a part of a wonderful circle of
friends and family--the lasting kind. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Life is a road full of diverging paths. Sometimes family
doesn't feel like the Cleavers and some friendships aren't meant to last
forever. But those relationships that persevere make up the tapestry of our lives,
there to drape us in warmth and comfort. During this Advent and Christmas
season, I am thankful for many things but bountiful moments spent with family
and friends are the wonderful gifts I treasure the most.</div>
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<!--EndFragment-->bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-26951034911419638812013-12-05T09:19:00.000+01:002013-12-05T09:19:09.234+01:00Put on a Happy Place
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtzhBFqY6aFMhlfqtkCiTLpmr7vrKNql0NvP5LJkKlQUL1N8ZCGWmPmA7xi1i2nLZH0O-rIaqA2R0uMQBgb8pXFRKA5aIVUM53i_vlKoTcd_2VyiWkFENyW9rah6aNsh1LzyIiTDgTlY/s1600/baby+chris+on+beach.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTtzhBFqY6aFMhlfqtkCiTLpmr7vrKNql0NvP5LJkKlQUL1N8ZCGWmPmA7xi1i2nLZH0O-rIaqA2R0uMQBgb8pXFRKA5aIVUM53i_vlKoTcd_2VyiWkFENyW9rah6aNsh1LzyIiTDgTlY/s320/baby+chris+on+beach.png" width="320" /></a></div>
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Life happens. One minute it's blue skies and smooth sailing,
the next minute a squall hits and you're paddling furiously just to stay afloat.
It's kind of like the andante movement of the symphony bleeding into the
allegro molto except there's no sheet music to follow and no preemptory pause
before the next movement begins. Life happens suddenly, leaving you there, in
this boat, terrified, wondering which way to shore. Hopefully you recognize it.
The only way not to succumb to the overwhelming sense of fear, dread,
loneliness or whatever it is that your storm brings, is to find your happy
place. For the God folks, it's "think about whatever is good, pure,
lovely".<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is it a day at the beach
where your little one chased the seagulls? Maybe it's a 26k you finished or your
7th birthday party.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It could be the
first sip of your morning coffee or even a point in the future. Your
graduation or your daughter's wedding? Or... maybe it's your secret dream of being
a rock star or a modern day princess in a Swarovski crystal covered
dress dancing at the ball. Whatever it is that
gets you "there", learn to flip it on like you do the TV. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">THAT</i> feeling. Practice getting to it and
reveling in the calm that a happy place can provide. I've had lots of happy
place time recently and it's a real sanity saver. I use it to remind me that storms
give way to rainbows and sunshine reflecting on calm, glassy seas. My happy
place reminds me that I will reach shore. You will too. Just carry on, keep
rowing and put on your happy place. </div>
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Oh, and if my music is one of those happy places for you, join me in the Bernese Kornhauskeller Saturday, December 7th or in the Glarus Aula Decenber 14th. For infos check my calendar page or fb. See you soon!</div>
<!--EndFragment-->bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-61118638960180697422013-11-05T10:59:00.003+01:002013-11-05T11:02:40.105+01:0040 years on stage!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.hedreich.com/singer/images/stories/zoom/Arist-Gallery-2012/viewsize/Here_i_am.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="http://www.hedreich.com/singer/images/stories/zoom/Arist-Gallery-2012/viewsize/Here_i_am.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Dear Friends, This year I celebrate 40 years on the stage!<br />
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That's right, I did my first theatre production as a little girl 4 decades ago! What a ride it has been!! In looking forward to the next 40 years, there will be some small changes here at hedreich.com. We'll be simplifying our calendar format and introducing my new blog.<br />
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Writing has always been a passion of mine and now, since my focus is not only on music but on education and parenting as well, I'd like to share with you in a more intimate way. You've heard loads about the singer, the songwriter, the arranger but now I'd like to share with you about all kinds of things like my recipe for combining a music career and parenting, my take on being a teacher--and a student--in the 10s and maybe even my experience with a cyberstalker. That's been creepy!<br />
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This is a big bold step. Standing on a stage to sing songs you've written about your life is opening yourself up to the world in an almost painful way. This takes it to the next level. But I'd like to...I think=). This "boldly going" will be a lovely way to commemorate this 40th anniversary.<br />
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à plus tard, HedreichHedreichhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16694019745921128681noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-12870087274111733232013-04-01T05:53:00.002+02:002013-04-01T05:54:02.553+02:00Prodigal Son Returns<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fSJhbrIsv1fHAWyGA51DP9fJtPeCiAjroU81hTqLRVo66vxXGebBMM9NJXUKqC9yy4XMyLTKjDbZCsRm8yHZZv9RswWvOxU9pGg8NvH7VqOR5GFyvJC-t74KALaq6wH73_RIOfz0wNU/s1600/Guschti+Party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_fSJhbrIsv1fHAWyGA51DP9fJtPeCiAjroU81hTqLRVo66vxXGebBMM9NJXUKqC9yy4XMyLTKjDbZCsRm8yHZZv9RswWvOxU9pGg8NvH7VqOR5GFyvJC-t74KALaq6wH73_RIOfz0wNU/s320/Guschti+Party.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-size: xx-small;">Photo by Bernadette Egger</span></td></tr>
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After a longer than usual hiatus, Hedreich returned to Switzerland for the famed <a href="http://www.cleo.ch/home.htm" target="_blank">Casa Cleo</a> music party. Guschti Schönbächler, with his usual flair, put together a group of Switzerland's finest musicians for a fete extraordinaire in the Seedam Plaza. After facing down some health challenges, Hedreich was in rare form and had a ball singing not only her pieces but also joining in on several duets and group numbers. She even reprised her 2009 Art on Ice rendition of "Listen" by special request. Word on the street is, the party will be repeated in 2 years. Now ain't-a that good news!<br />
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Speaking of good news, we'd like to congratulate one of Hedreich.com's very own. From tomorrow on, if you're flying Swiss Airlines , you will hear the music mix put together by our own German news content writer, Simon Gisler. This all-arounder keeps expanding his horizons and we're thankful that he's a part of our team!bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-73808354181953625292013-03-02T20:33:00.000+01:002013-03-02T20:33:34.538+01:00Hedreich Nichols' M&A<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdRWA03UHeHzku83SQLOo7ZWQmfbLXOpNRajNjNz64GWp7TWKWbhuJLXcKVjE_R1BmcDd17QGuPbOBgEdGZKXBu8Ns14n3L-Wqphs63_vn9WuQok4Noh3FAiCrOazAjH4MJ2-kIX8xDo/s1600/M&AMusicDramaDance_Jul12_AD3_rg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLdRWA03UHeHzku83SQLOo7ZWQmfbLXOpNRajNjNz64GWp7TWKWbhuJLXcKVjE_R1BmcDd17QGuPbOBgEdGZKXBu8Ns14n3L-Wqphs63_vn9WuQok4Noh3FAiCrOazAjH4MJ2-kIX8xDo/s200/M&AMusicDramaDance_Jul12_AD3_rg.jpg" width="155" /></a></div>
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After Hawaii, one would think the DFW winter a bit pale in comparison but not with several student performances to prepare for. Check the education page and send an e-mail to enroll your child in an M&A fine arts class near you. M&A kids are singing, acting, or dancing all while learning theory and cool fine arts facts, making friends and building self-esteem. Spring/Summer registration are underway and this month is open house so drop by and join in on all the fun.bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-24599678017051926772013-03-02T19:53:00.000+01:002013-03-02T20:37:51.680+01:00Spring has Sprung<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Spring came early this year as Hedreich started the 2013 concert year off on the beautiful island of Kauai. <a href="http://stmichaels-kauai.org/" target="_blank">St Michaels</a> was the host of not only two evenings of the finest Jazz but also two Jazz Masses featuring the choral and instrumental arrangements of Grammy Governor <a href="http://mattlemmler.com/" target="_blank">Matt Lemmler</a>. All four performances featured incredible international talent in both instrumental and vocal music. Hedreich delighted the crowds with her usual aplomb and charm, even pulling out some mad scat skills together with the phenomenal <a href="http://gretamatassa.com/" target="_blank">Greta Matassa</a>. <br />
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<br />bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-72584985953874887842013-01-31T22:02:00.000+01:002013-01-31T22:02:01.162+01:00Second Act<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The year 2013 is one month old and so we end the hedreich.com looking back series. Time to look forward and what better vantage point than from the mountains and valleys of the garden island? Lush, blooming even in mid winter, it's a perfect place to kick off a second act. This new season starts with the All Angels Jazz Festival in Lihue, Hawaii. Stop by soon to get the scoop. We'll leave a light on for ya!bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-257662864849057672013-01-14T21:38:00.000+01:002013-01-14T21:38:07.756+01:00One Last Look<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyGiNNrr0Ys" target="_blank">Here</a>, "listen" to one of my favorites.bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-22625837597342255522012-12-04T04:20:00.002+01:002012-12-04T04:20:26.932+01:00Looking Back II<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RRaYo0fCrTk" target="_blank">Here</a>, with Swiss icon Polo Hofer, "Bring it Home to Me".<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkVsBTN1J2AR8w9gjBmkfxxicgZewfHmwg_yws0kb4v4EP72ntBo6BLK41lvdWnO9XsKq6zNt7LzU60ieBUlrKiOGZUfEnUfUCAJIkmd9S2-SZJOJmJMwgL6o-Xog7qQHN5i4CRg2Z7E/s1600/polo+n+hedreich.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEkVsBTN1J2AR8w9gjBmkfxxicgZewfHmwg_yws0kb4v4EP72ntBo6BLK41lvdWnO9XsKq6zNt7LzU60ieBUlrKiOGZUfEnUfUCAJIkmd9S2-SZJOJmJMwgL6o-Xog7qQHN5i4CRg2Z7E/s320/polo+n+hedreich.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
<br />bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5713454127209664741.post-65268707368973179432012-11-08T02:13:00.001+01:002012-11-08T02:13:46.905+01:00Moving Forward, Looking BackAs with most of us, the coming year's end is a time where we look back over the year, hopefully without too many regrets. It's also the time where we feel the excitement of a new year fast approaching, ripe with new possibilities.<br />
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For the first time in almost two decades, Hedreich will be celebrating Thanksgiving, Christmas and the New Year on the home shores of Texas. After many seasons performing and singing on wonderful stages all over Europe, this year will be a quiet departure from the status quo, setting the stage for a whole new chapter. But in the meantime, she'll be sharing sounds and images of performances gone by. Stop in over the next few weeks for a few highlights like this one. <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=qGoyot_QDwQ" target="_blank">Here</a> she is with Joe Sample and the Crusaders on Germany's <i>Ohne Filter</i> back in the late 80s.<br />
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<br />bruhedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04738562586940861374noreply@blogger.com