tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2875435467239962342024-03-13T00:27:07.928-07:00Lisa Lynne: A Harpgirl's JournalThe adventures of a modern day troubadour..Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comBlogger70125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-29394907718619605312015-11-23T21:29:00.002-08:002015-11-23T21:29:25.035-08:00My blog has moved to a new location<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have a new website and updated blog setup.<br />
So you can pick up with the newer entries here..<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lisalynne.com/category/news/">My new website blog</a></div>
Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-62247923585507911912015-07-04T18:39:00.001-07:002015-07-22T12:30:07.461-07:00A magazine story about our touring life... <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hi everyone! The text of the story is below the images. I've been meaning to post this which came out in the current issue of the Folk Harp Journal. They asked me to write a story about our road tours, (during a road tour) so it was easy and fun to do. I hope this gives you an idea of what our life is like when we are on the road. I have posted many videos on this blog of our actual tours, and this is what what happens behind those scenes. </div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "GoudyOldStyleT"; font-weight: 700;">T</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">hree weeks into our current month-long string of shows I’m
sitting in the back seat of my trusty van with the little white trailer
behind us. We have been traveling and performing this tour for
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">three adventurous years. This current tour includes flights to the
freezing Midwest and driving to fifteen shows from California to
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">New Mexico. Right now, we are passing through long stretches of
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">desert lands with luminous clouds floating as only they can do in
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">the rich skies of the Southwest.
</span></span><br />
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</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">Fronted by illustrious Celtic storyteller and wire strung harpist
Patrick Ball, our trio blends stories and music to create a theatrical
experience that is rich in history, humor and, of course, music.
Aryeh and I play nylon-strung harps as well as Swedish nyckelharpa,
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">cittern, mandolin, fiddle, guitar, bodhrán and Irish bouzouki. We
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">all have vibrant careers separately, but were delighted when Patrick
saw our duo show and shared his idea with us to create something
new together. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">Our original show </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-style: italic;">Legends of the Celtic Harp </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">traces the stories,
myths and historic writing about the harp as it travels through the
centuries. Our seasonal show is called </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-style: italic;">A Winter Gift</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">. Our current
tour is our newest show called </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-style: italic;">The Door Between the Worlds </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">about the
mysterious Celtic “Otherworld.” </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">We have performed throughout the U.S., including Hawaii and
two Alaskan tours; often traveling by air, usually by land and even
by sea. On our last month-long tour we drove from California
to Rhode Island, down the eastern seaboard and back across the
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">country. We had to abandon my tired, fluid-expelling van in Texas
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">and travel home in a U-Haul with my faithful little trailer behind
us. Now we’re in my new van. Patrick is in the front passenger seat
reading from his abundant pile of books, Aryeh is at the wheel
listening to his favorite podcast and I am, as usual, working on my
laptop. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">
</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">As we move through this beautiful scenery I think a lot about the
troubadours of the past. A story in our Legends show tells the epic
saga of “Gwilan’s Harp,” by Ursula K. LeGuin, a tale of a young
girl’s journey with her harp and her life of music and rebirth in
Ireland circa 1000 AD. Unlike Gwilan, for us there is no horse
and cart. We have cruise control and a GPS. But the mission is the
same—to share in the love of harps, music and connection. </span></span><br />
<br />
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</span></div>
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</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">For our </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-style: italic;">Legends ofthe Celtic Harp </span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">show Patrick’s opening monologue
is quick to point out that we never thought of ourselves as the
legends (although our mothers might think we are). But we have
such an appreciation for the Celtic harp we wanted to share with
others some of the history and legends of this instrument that
we love so much. There is no one more suited to deliver this
collection of stories than Patrick Ball. With a master’s degree in
Irish history and a deep love for spoken word, he is among one
of the most beloved storytellers in the world. The San Francisco
Chronicle calls him “an American master of the Irish instrument,
a peripatetic modern day bard.” He has been frequently recognized
by the National Storytelling Association and awards from various
arts councils as well. The man has sold over half a million albums,
and Aryeh and I smile every time someone brings him their vinyl
copies of his early work to sign. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">Aryeh is a masterful musician. We have been working together
as a duo for eight years now and we are a duo in life as well. I
had admired him from afar long before we met for his wondrous
hybrid of World and progressive music. Aryeh started violin lessons
as a toddler. Classically trained on violin (his mother is a violin
maker), he later also taught himself to play many other instruments
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">including Celtic harp. He was invited by some fiddlers to perform
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">a large concert in Sweden and it was there he discovered a love
for Swedish music—particularly the Nyckelharpa that he now
considers his main instrument. He still plays a lot of harp in our
shows, but he has become known for helping to introduce this rare
instrument from the 14th century to folks in the States. He is a
top-notch sound engineer and producer as well and when we’re
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">not on the road you can find him</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> most happily working away in our
recording studio. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> </span>
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">As for me, I started guitar as a young
kid, electric bass as a teen, playing
with heavy metal, classic rock, and
Top 40 cover bands to make my living.
I discovered the harp in my early 20s
and taught myself by playing along
to my Pink Floyd albums. I went to
Musicians Institute of Technology
in Hollywood for further studies of
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">bass, but when I put together my first
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">harp band, it was clear that this was
my true love. I did a lot of unusual
gigs and ended up busking on Venice
Beach selling handmade recordings.
I traveled around the country for
years playing at malls and festivals
in the U.S. and Canada, I started my
own record label, and then signed
with Windham Hill. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">The tragedy at Columbine changed
my direction when one of the families
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">was finding my music useful to help
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">their critically wounded daughter
sleep. I visited them with my harp
at the hospital and then told the
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">harp chat group online I wanted to get the young girl a little harp
of her own. Donations came from harpists around the country
and with the help of Triplett we got her a full size Celtic harp.
This inspired me to start music programs in various hospitals in
California starting with City of Hope National Cancer Center. We
had concerts in the lobbies with artists such as Kim Robertson,
Sylvia Woods and Alfredo Ortiz, hands-on experiences, daytime
music in the patient care areas, and loaner harps for the patients.
This program continues to be successful, and I enjoy sharing what
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">we have learned with others. Whenever possible, I still fill my van with 20 harps and do tours of cancer centers, schools, rehab centers and similar facilities.</span></span><br />
</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-weight: 700;">A typical day on the road.
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">We’ll pull up to our venue for sound check around 4:00 PM, or
earlier, grateful to have GPS. Some venues are impressive state of
the art theaters; a fancy place where helpers with dollies await our
arrival. Or a venue may be a dusty old church we’ve rented so we
unload and roll everything in on our own. Aryeh likes to be left
alone to set up the stage and sound board, and we have chosen to
do our own sound from the stage. The unique qualities of the harps
provide challenges so we have learned it’s better, faster and less
stressful if Aryeh controls the sound. This set-up makes my Triplett
harp, Aryeh’s Dusty Strings harp, Patrick’s Jay Witcher wire strung
harp (made for him in 1980) and all the other instruments sound
their best.</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> I will then start setting up our sizable CD table, which includes
about 30+ CD offerings between us, with rich table cloths and</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> golden framed signs. We have sheet music books, t-shirts, posters
and, sometimes, my mosaic work. We have descriptions for each
CD, email lists, postcards and upcoming event brochures. It’s quite
a presentation but selling merchandise is crucial for our bottom
line and supporting these tours. During intermission and after the
show we are always here to chat with folks and sign merchandise.</span> </span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">We’ll do sound check and get dressed in our finery and wait for the
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">folks to come in. We often sell advance tickets online or we might
just have to wait and see about the audience. I worry sometimes if
all our promotion efforts will work, but as the people line up to
enter I want to hug each person for coming.
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">No matter how tired we might be, from the first moments we start,
and the first musical sighs and laughs of the audience, it is heaven.
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">Patrick kicks into high gear. He is like the captain of a big ship that
everyone boards. Aryeh and I are quickly switching instruments
throughout the show but we still can marvel at all the smiling
faces. The show features us playing both together and separately
and Aryeh and I will tell a story or two as well. The audiences are
diverse and the stories and music connect with people from every
walk of life. It’s always a success and I feel like the luckiest gal in the
world by the time we hear the generous ovation and do an encore.
After the show if the venue is small enough I put my harp on the
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">floor and invite audience members to play along with me. I play a
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">left hand pattern and enjoy watching their delight as they pluck out
a perfectly random harmonious melody, while their companions
snap photos and videos of the moment. Patrick will chat with his
admirers and we start the process of breaking down and loading
up. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">After the show we head to our accommodations for the evening.
The venue might provide a hotel, but usually we are given shelter by
local supporters and if we are lucky there’s a lovely spread of food
and wine waiting for us. We are always famished after a show so my
best intentions for eating healthy on the tour go out the window
yet again. The hosts are generally wonderful, but we’ve had a few
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">interesting experiences too. We rise the next day, find caffeine,
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">drive for hours and do it all again. Along the way if we have down
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">time we hang out in a coffee shop doing online work or find a local
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">thrift shop to browse for unexpected treasures. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">When we put together a tour, we usually start with what is known
as “anchor” dates. These larger venues are usually somewhere
Patrick has long-term relationships with the theater or cultural arts
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">series. Often the cultural arts organizations are affiliated with local
schools so we find times to present programs to entertain kids from
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">kindergarten to high school. We have special stories for them, and
explain each instrument and origin which I love. With the major
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">dates confirmed we look at a map and find various smaller venues
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">that make sense on the map. Those are often called “satellite” dates
a couple of hours away in any direction. Aryeh writes letters to
churches and sometimes harp chapter leaders around the country.
If they agree to help us create an event, sometimes with workshops,
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">then we create the route. If we fly, Aryeh and I are usually able and
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">grateful to borrow harps from the local community, but Patrick
always takes his wire-strung harp. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">After the dates are confirmed I get to work on all the publicity
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">six weeks before the dates. I write press releases, print, and mail
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">posters ahead. I fill out calendar sections in newspapers and city</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> websites and reach out to folk radio program hosts. I also seek
out the arts and entertainment writers and bloggers. Writing to
them personally often results in a newspaper story or radio/TV
appearances. I seek out local folk musicians, Celtic groups, literary
groups, college professors for music and world studies, and harp
teachers to say hello and give them all the information regarding
the show. It takes a lot of computer time but that’s the only way to
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">make a tour work. I have worked hard to figure out the best ways
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">to keep track of all the accounting and other do’s and don’ts. It has
been such a learning process that I’m now writing a book about
how to create successful concerts and tours for both the performers
and the presenters. My new book will be a guide for both artists
and venues to use for successful events. I hope the book will be
out this year to help independent musicians take advantage of new
opportunities we have in the music business. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> </span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">So what is next for us? After this tour ends we will go about
our normal gigs until the next tour starts. Patrick will go off to
a European castle or some other wonderful place to enthrall his
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">listeners in a solo show. He just finished a new double CD release
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">recording of his “Tristan and Iseult” story. He will spend time
with his wife and grown daughter and beloved dog Max at their
beautiful ranch style home in rural Northern California. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">Aryeh and I will go home to our cute cottage in a quaint San
Francisco neighborhood. We’ll start a new album soon in our home
studio, then go on to teach at music camps and harp conferences
and do duo shows and house concerts. Aryeh will go right back to
his usual gigs of festivals and farmers markets, where he does quite
well selling CDs by the dozens amongst the spring produce and</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> fine arts. I will use my time finishing my book, giving lessons on
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">Skype, and writing new music. Sometimes providing background
music at a casual gig is relaxing and often inspires new songs. My
recordings are used in TV and independent movies, have been
listed in the Top 20 of the Billboard New Age Charts, and are listed
on most major streaming services, so I am lucky to own 100% of
my publishing. Over the last 20 years, I’ve sold well over a million
albums—from the early days of busking on the streets to the latest
concerts and festivals. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";"> </span>
</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">We are working now on our next tours with Patrick which will
be in the Northwest for our Fall/Winter show. We’ll also have
scattered mini tours throughout the year and we will tour in Ireland
in 2016. If you’d like to follow our adventures in real time, you
can friend me (Lisa Lynne Franco), Aryeh Frankfurter or Patrick
Ball on Facebook. Since folks like to watch the adventures of my
little trailer on the road I’ve been creating a video blog for some
years to document my musical adventures. There are about 60 short
episodes on my website, or search YouTube for “Lisa Lynne vblog.”
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">If you’d like to be on our email list, please sign up at my website.
LisaLynne.com.
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond";">You will receive a quarterly newsletter packed with fun stuff,
videos, free music downloads, and our show schedules.
</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-weight: 700;">We hope to see you somewhere down the road!
</span><span style="font-family: "Garamond"; font-weight: 700;">LegendsOfTheCelticHarp.com
</span></span></div>
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-68319188550948299272015-06-18T19:00:00.001-07:002015-07-06T17:48:56.379-07:00New Video - Luna de Amor <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Z09FFnmm-Pw/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Z09FFnmm-Pw?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<br />
Here is one of my favorite songs. I wrote it in the mid-90's and it first appeared then on my "Moonsongs" CD. I re-recorded it more recently with Aryeh on our "Two Worlds One" CD. Aryeh is playing a viola that his mother made. Her website is www.woodenbabies.com<br />
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-90010407788231601932015-03-30T23:33:00.001-07:002015-07-06T18:09:33.457-07:00Lisa Lynne Vblog #44 Video tour of the Midwest and Southwest<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Lisa Lynne Vblog #44 New Video - Our tour of the Midwest and Southwest<br />
<span class="_3c21">Off we went again, this time by plane to the Midwest
and driving to the southwest. We experienced many special things and a
variety of weather systems.</span><br />
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-2370471648722739532014-11-22T23:42:00.001-08:002015-07-06T17:50:07.218-07:00Lisa Lynne Vblog #43 - A Video of my Northwest adventure of music & art..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A fall trip driving to Seattle, a stop in Ashland for a Mosaic
conference, a visit to an organic farm, a Seattle harp conference at
Dusty Strings. Concert footage with fellow musicians, Aryeh Frankurter,
Kim Robertson, Patrick Ball, Erik Ask-Upmark, Beth Kolle, Laurie Riley,
Molly Bauckham, Kate Power. Special thanks to Sue and Ray Mooers for
hosting us all for such a great event. And the best party I've been to
in a long time! </div>
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-62308024177261306152014-05-29T08:45:00.001-07:002015-07-06T17:50:23.825-07:00Lisa Lynne Vblog #42 - Video tour across the USA!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi there folks, here is a video, a collection of images from our recent tour to the East Coast and back. Aryeh and I are narrating over the images. There's no way to capture all the adventures we had, and I even missed including a concert or two, but you get the idea. It was a very successful tour, but a lot of hard work as we did every aspect of it on our own. It's a new world out there for musicians and artists. Do it yourself is the new way of doing things. I will be writing a book soon about how to create your own tour and be successful on the road. So look for that soon! All the best, Lisa<br />
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-85630463599198562102013-11-23T23:33:00.002-08:002015-07-22T12:24:51.219-07:00A live TV performance on PBS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We did a little visit to a PBS station to promote a series of concerts. </div>
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Aryeh and I played "Morning Star".. An original piece of music I wrote for a Windham Hill Christmas record. It's one of Aryeh's favorites, he is playing Swedish Nyckelharpa. </div>
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-21542850733484815502013-05-27T18:11:00.001-07:002015-07-22T12:26:42.405-07:00A Video of our tour of Hawaii with "Legends of the Celtic Harp"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi Folks, Here is the latest video from our recent Hawaii tour. We were there for two weeks and enjoyed many wonderful shows and visits with friends old and new.<br />
Here is a video montage of some of my favorite moments.<br />
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-85590994157674663682012-10-29T18:45:00.000-07:002012-10-29T18:45:41.576-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We recently toured Alaska and Washington, it was a lovely trip with successful shows. We visited schools and drove many miles of beautiful scenery.<br />
Here is my collection of video and photo moments.<br />
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-50542827316796618382012-08-29T12:33:00.001-07:002012-08-29T12:33:29.148-07:00Lisa Lynne Vblog #39 - Fun at Cazadero Camp 2012<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hi Friends, I haven't put up a video in several months, I have been having a wonderful summer with so many exciting events, I have so much footage but no time to edit it! But I did get this one done, and will soon be sharing more about the recent adventures.<br />
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This one features Cazadero Performing Arts Family Camp. It was my first time there. Not long ago I was doing a concert in Oakland, and an important person was in the audience. She heard me talk about my traveling harps, and thought it would be perfect for the Camp that she runs. It's for kids of all ages to come and learn various arts and musical styles and instruments. I was happy to do it and had a wonderful time. I met many new friends and kindred spirits and learned that I actually love to teach! I have done a lot of workshops in the past, but this was every day four classes, about half the people were younger kids around eight years old.<br />
I had so much fun every minute. I hope I can make a tradition of it.<br />
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Here is the video that gives an idea what it is like. I feel like I barely scratched the surface of what all goes on there, but you get the vibe from here.<br />
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Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-64057262602350639352012-03-04T19:07:00.000-08:002012-03-24T08:10:27.154-07:00A Visit to the Musical Instrument Museum<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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A recent trip to the Musical Instrument Museum in Phoenix, Arizona. I
went to check out how they do their video presentations as I will be
doing something similar for a museum in Tainan, Taiwan. It was a
wonderful experience that I recommend to everyone. You can visit their
site at www.TheMim.org</div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-76451780792079436452012-02-13T17:15:00.000-08:002012-03-04T19:09:08.761-08:00Legends of the Celtic Harp performs a tune by O'Carolan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have been part of a wonderful new show with my favorite storytelling/harper Patrick Ball. We have created a performance that blends music and stories of the harp through time. We are having an incredible experience with it, we have played many fine theaters and the people just love the show. Patrick is so funny, and the stories are so heartwarming. Interesting facts about the harp, with folklore and myths too. Aryeh and I get to play other instruments besides our harps, and much of the music is from my collection of original compositions. Here is just a sample of what its like. On this clip that tells of the legendary harper O'Carolans early life.<br />
I'll be posting more soon.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/UoP_eErTTK0" width="420"></iframe></div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-42398654862919280742011-08-12T17:51:00.000-07:002011-08-12T17:51:24.932-07:00Vblog #37- Lark in the Morning Music Camp!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> Words just can't describe this wonderful music camp, so I'll just let my video do it. <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/6SHHF89whMo" width="425"></iframe></div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-30001839597493361342011-07-04T11:17:00.000-07:002011-07-04T11:17:39.760-07:00Adoption Story Part Five - The meeting..<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">At last.. part five of this story!<br />
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Here are the previous parts:<br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-1.html">Part One</a><br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-two.html">Part Two</a> <a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/06/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-four-how.html"></a><br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-three.html">Part Three</a><br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/06/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-four-how.html">Part Four</a><br />
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On June 14, 2011, I met my birth mother Olivia. After a lifetime of not knowing who or where I came from, it finally happened. Not only did I get to meet the woman who gave me my life, but a whole family of warm and loving people that are now in my life! I feel so blessed. I am still searching for the words. It's a profound self-puzzle with the pieces coming together everyday. <br />
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My family, Olivia's family, all of our loved ones have been so touched by this. The story takes on another level of complexity as Olivia is a stroke survivor. Eight years ago she suffered her second massive stroke which left her unable to walk, and with Aphasia, where the language part of the brain is impaired in both expression and understanding. <br />
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So, what we are experiencing is all about the heart. She was absolutely there and her spirit is bright and buoyant. She was smiley, a hearty person, and even spunky. I wondered beforehand if we would all be bawling our eyes out, but Olivia was steering the ship. She was joyful and playful, all smiles and thumbs up. She was full of connection and expression, taking it all in and clearly proud of all of her loved ones. Here are some moments from this great day.<br />
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The more I learn about her, the more I am amazed what parts of us are inherited in our blood, and what parts we learn along our way. I will write more about this as I continue to reflect, but she was indeed was a self-made woman. Very smart (as all of her relations), strong and independent. After she had me, she put herself through school and got her Masters Degree in business. She started as a clerk in a major company and worked her way to senior management.<br />
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When she was young she was not in the Peace Corp which I originally thought, but in the Foreign Services working for the Embassy. That's how she was in Thailand where she met and was briefly engaged to my birth father. She never married or had any other children. She lived her truth - in an alternative lifestyle (especially brave in the 60's and 70's) and had a great love / partnership of 30 years. She read spiritual books, (she had "Conversations with God" in her collection so maybe she had heard my music already) she ran the LA marathon in her 50's. She always loved music, dancing, her animals, she gave to many animal charities.<br />
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I was so nervous and happy going there. My sister Jenny went with me and she drove us towards San Diego on a sunny Tuesday. Olivia was waiting in her lovely and comfortable care home with her brother (my uncle) and his wife and two of his children, more extended family gathered from around Los Angeles to help celebrate this day. They were all so wonderful, warm, and funny too. <br />
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There are so many remarkable things that we all discovered that we have in common, both physically as well as small habits and tendencies. We all visited for six hours of continuous smiling, learning more about her history and her family members (who there is much musical talent within) much laughing and connecting the dots. How she and I both lived by our lists, we went to lunch and they noticed how I curl and tear my napkin at the table was just like her. There were many various personality traits big and small, and even the things I cannot eat. It's so completely fascinating. I am still trying to get my mind around it all. <br />
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We had a lovely time and I already love them all so much. I smile every single time I think of them, and that is all the time, so I am always smiling. I will go back again in August and October. <br />
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It's clear that Olivia is so very loved by all who know her, and now, including me.<br />
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</div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-45863309080023163822011-06-12T08:27:00.000-07:002011-07-23T08:53:01.832-07:00Lisa Lynne Adoption Story - Part Four - How I found her.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Welcome to part four of the story. Here are links to part 1-3<br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-1.html">Part 1 </a><br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-two.html">Part 2</a><br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-three.html">Part 3</a> <br />
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How the connection happened..<br />
It was January this year. It was harp day in the hospital and I was visiting in the office of a retiring administrator at Kaiser Permanente. She is a wonderful person and very hip senior nurse responsible for bringing my program in their units now over seven years ago. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCeJZ2CdDfiYpgY6ch7E1VGfcAitorGCL9x7OXbzcqtZr28AqSHD6CfFsm_-WwEddGpYVw94jVXrImqrdTHsLtAqIzIxsppXX9uVjNQz_NTJMiRSK0hlmnldKmjZSQfHmzZxxNc4OyCdW/s1600/Lisa+%2526+docs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCeJZ2CdDfiYpgY6ch7E1VGfcAitorGCL9x7OXbzcqtZr28AqSHD6CfFsm_-WwEddGpYVw94jVXrImqrdTHsLtAqIzIxsppXX9uVjNQz_NTJMiRSK0hlmnldKmjZSQfHmzZxxNc4OyCdW/s200/Lisa+%2526+docs.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>She told me she'd be spending time with her newly found daughter she had given up for adoption. I told her I was adopted too! She said that not a day went by that she didn't think of the baby she gave up. She had found her birth daughter with the help of a woman from North Carolina who loved to help folks find each other. <br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"></div>It was a sign for me to start again. I wrote to the nice lady. I was driving to do a concert with Aryeh when she called with my real name and my biological parents names. We had to pull over..My birth mother chose the name "Maria Elena Hart" for me, and "Hart" was the real name of the biological father. She chose his last name for me even though she never married him, or even told him she was pregnant. I was so effected by this I could hardly concentrate on the music we performed. I ended up confessing to the audience what was on my mind that night. Many up to me afterward wishing me well and sharing their own story.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCkxhw1N87qXH5sBrCSMq8uHFkQmMzacsF38a0crM4f73meAOYrZwoHbfDMfzdvJhRKN89nIBO9O-D85khbj40CqmgrX6xGMs_3S_31Ssk_jhm7auolXr6DRxd1BTWu_rubWYFvbrceuxV/s1600/hold+hands+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCkxhw1N87qXH5sBrCSMq8uHFkQmMzacsF38a0crM4f73meAOYrZwoHbfDMfzdvJhRKN89nIBO9O-D85khbj40CqmgrX6xGMs_3S_31Ssk_jhm7auolXr6DRxd1BTWu_rubWYFvbrceuxV/s200/hold+hands+-+Version+2.jpg" width="190" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I remember that night well!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPn3rShyHoYrKjKPpMBjJK5le6Sbd52CkhjRHt_iXtZNiUMPxQS3j7iXk0XaMZ84EEYdjfI1jXHN5rXt8acTXI0Kkoobe2_0WSiX_g_6fFi9M1CWw_WQvTdRnyxnkTQG4_xjxeJyekztg3/s1600/aryeh+and+girls+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPn3rShyHoYrKjKPpMBjJK5le6Sbd52CkhjRHt_iXtZNiUMPxQS3j7iXk0XaMZ84EEYdjfI1jXHN5rXt8acTXI0Kkoobe2_0WSiX_g_6fFi9M1CWw_WQvTdRnyxnkTQG4_xjxeJyekztg3/s200/aryeh+and+girls+1.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fun jam at the end</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Because my birth mothers maiden name was common and no first name was given, she referred me to someone who specialized in hard cases. His name is <a href="http://www.miraclesearch.com/AboutTheOwner.aspx">Paul Brown</a> and he started his company "Miracle Search" because he found his own birth mother, and wanted to help others do the same.<br />
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He spoke to me at length and told me his story. I knew he was the right guy to help me, but I had to time it right. This was so huge to me, even when the smallest fact came in, I was lost in it for days, I can't concentrate on my life and what needs to be done. My days and weeks are always so busy with so much going on.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWvXdJKxZ6wQaAP_1sbwPvI2siaEsV56cSeLDYFRY_AiDzcMtFbs8i-VAfvEYv8vsUL_U4VbardP16YCT_TFLJ9ADbW0YHcPBln-GG7kzXVnGslG9MuyARXJlmiQMZGEaAlUlN9yB1ua9/s1600/lisa+podium.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWvXdJKxZ6wQaAP_1sbwPvI2siaEsV56cSeLDYFRY_AiDzcMtFbs8i-VAfvEYv8vsUL_U4VbardP16YCT_TFLJ9ADbW0YHcPBln-GG7kzXVnGslG9MuyARXJlmiQMZGEaAlUlN9yB1ua9/s200/lisa+podium.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin2UgFHL3WrPCY6f-HXMNYHqMIesNbRi4VlOSvtId1effka54_-KtCb3WZF9Hoo8XCWygGCBh9UL5bGwehtD9Jf288_xlM1q5NnYz59n7fgfp6pE9cXnwXY7x781s9eHwShxYlLUwdQbtb/s1600/lisa+guitar.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/AVvXsEin2UgFHL3WrPCY6f-HXMNYHqMIesNbRi4VlOSvtId1effka54_-KtCb3WZF9Hoo8XCWygGCBh9UL5bGwehtD9Jf288_xlM1q5NnYz59n7fgfp6pE9cXnwXY7x781s9eHwShxYlLUwdQbtb/s200/lisa+guitar.jpg" width="160" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-8utEDSYT8wJfFIbGK7gCEnbi1CBeqQb1JuY_cJcxiQRxRLy0QOoTXs9qMe05zMVCzfNaiNvFj5RK0rWyy3eU68uBl-2WXrD6VuywMxDjnG1icC_TmQjTbW9fXLJA8pFS_kMCOhe34GF/s1600/Lisa+Molly+Bandura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM-8utEDSYT8wJfFIbGK7gCEnbi1CBeqQb1JuY_cJcxiQRxRLy0QOoTXs9qMe05zMVCzfNaiNvFj5RK0rWyy3eU68uBl-2WXrD6VuywMxDjnG1icC_TmQjTbW9fXLJA8pFS_kMCOhe34GF/s200/Lisa+Molly+Bandura.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1tH3WZxWJ1HEqFSvZ4i2vXPxo8El4oPH80rTep_GAGjIcBuwD45EDTDcFtQlWaljLkpDNwcyhCtQ70IzvytVUra_UkJrf185r_cOBnUGT2cR7qw24ZerpPrxwbNf7kLqyqBpRzhX10yG/s1600/Lisa+%2526+Girl+at+Children%2527s+hospital.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1tH3WZxWJ1HEqFSvZ4i2vXPxo8El4oPH80rTep_GAGjIcBuwD45EDTDcFtQlWaljLkpDNwcyhCtQ70IzvytVUra_UkJrf185r_cOBnUGT2cR7qw24ZerpPrxwbNf7kLqyqBpRzhX10yG/s200/Lisa+%2526+Girl+at+Children%2527s+hospital.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4T1EEnQoK8MpDW9yCDi-PV0N1Owhimrm9RhAt9XGv6s4ZJHNjzIr1eCj6VLSKsliFMUkLFQbh-4XPN8piRdg2GvWNyg-8v1uh72y3Q7b8qpXNV4KzHDbQmpiRopClbnmfLcUP7r-029J/s1600/Harbin+harps+1_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>These first details affected me so much it was hard to absorb. In the meantime I wanted to write her a love letter and tell her about my life. Maybe she would be alive, but not able to meet me. Maybe she has family that doesn't know and she wants to keep it private. If she could read my words and know where I was coming from, then maybe she would see me. Or at least know how I felt about her. Because I also wanted to honor my family I grew up with, I wanted to write it for all of them. That letter became this blog.<br />
<br />
As I went through scanning my paper photographs long boxed away, my heart went through so much. I was admiring the pictures of my family, missing my dad and Grandmas. Remembering old boyfriends, and what a worried teenager I always was. It took a lot longer than I thought. Weeks went by. <br />
<br />
When I finally gave the go ahead to Paul, he called me at an airport soon after. I knew when he was going to call and was ready with my laptop and headphones. While I sat there amongst hundred of other travelers, I was receiving some potential answers to my life.<br />
<br />
There were 347 possibilities in California, women born in the right year with the correct last name. 47 with at least one brother the right age that she had mentioned in her interview at the adoption agency. Of those 47, 10 were no longer living. Of the 37, 11 were still in Los Angeles, and of the 11, there was just one, that seemed to have only one brother at the right age. <br />
<br />
So, because I chose the option of a "partnership" search, I had to make the calls myself. Paul prefers this middle option because he believes that the sound of the voice, talking to the birth mother has a potent effect in the heart connecting.<br />
<br />
The idea of me cold calling this list of potential "targets" sounded impossible to me. I have a hard time even calling a festival to see if they received my promotional pack to perform there. The idea of calling a woman after over four decades to find out if she gave birth to me, was more than I can wrap my mind around. Now there was a list. And she was on this list somewhere. <br />
<br />
Paul was a wonderful coach. From his vast experience he told me that 80% of birth mothers are happy to be found. 20% are hesitant or unwilling or even upset. That 20% is the percentage you have to prepare for. <br />
<br />
I carried around this one name and phone number with me for the next three weeks. Working on my story letter to her and her family, about me and my family. I thought I had to get everything in place before I could call her. Plus I was nervous and I was stalling for time. <br />
<br />
I was in Morro Bay for a memorial day festival weekend with my dear Aryeh, and he said over newly served enchiladas, "Why don't you just call?" My heart pounds just from that! "but I'm not finished with my blog" excuse.. excuse.. but suddenly I knew he was right and it was actually the perfect time. I had written out all my suggestions from Paul, about how to talk to the women I would call. So we practiced. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEs_o66ABtDaeM70DwGfmugQBZmA7aAr6jfEw7SQKjBlgupUO8P-iBJ4kxqSsoDzkHyw43RvS-dvNysfEmofIvw0lQOVKJH2IRGQSaNlbwAMBuBQkXODZ90OLe-1nmHWLUR50CP-Fu88dl/s1600/mertz.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEs_o66ABtDaeM70DwGfmugQBZmA7aAr6jfEw7SQKjBlgupUO8P-iBJ4kxqSsoDzkHyw43RvS-dvNysfEmofIvw0lQOVKJH2IRGQSaNlbwAMBuBQkXODZ90OLe-1nmHWLUR50CP-Fu88dl/s200/mertz.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aryeh</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
Aryeh and I on cell phones in separate rooms. He used his best 'older-lady-with-Spanish-accent"-voice, while I practiced my lines..<br />
<br />
"My name is Lisa and i'm wondering if you can help me figure out where I fit into the Ramirez family" we ended up being goofy and silly, but I felt better about it. <br />
<br />
He gave me every possible reaction we could think of. "I don't know what your talking about" or "I don't feel comfortable talking about this" "say what?" "go away!" etc, so I could practice every possible answer, but I kept flubbing it, we did it over and over. <br />
<br />
My plan was to call the next morning, Memorial Day, because it was a holiday maybe she/they would be free and together, and maybe we could all have time to recover from whatever happened before a normal work day.<br />
<br />
So, alone in my friends lovely home and surrounded by Angel images, beautiful crystals, wise quotes and Goddess treasures, overlooking a magical forest and bay, I knew this will happen here and now. I just can't get my heart to stop thumping. I called Paul for a last minute pep talk. He said, "It could be any one of these 347 names, you won't be this nervous for each one" <br />
<br />
I had my questions and answers all spread out on the table in front of me. I knew everything that I would say, but the word that was going to mean everything was Thailand.<br />
<br />
I knew from her vague pre-birth interview paper that she had been in Thailand.. and also it was for the government? (a mystery), and I had to somehow get that into the conversation, and when I did, it could go either way, I would know it was her, and she would know I knew, or it would be a dead end right there. <br />
<br />
So there I sat, 10:00 AM, deep breath, almost press the number.. wait.. deep breath,….close the eyes.. start again, no wait, need water.. I should pee...almost press.. just another minute, maybe I should meditate, or pray.. ok do that.<br />
<br />
10:15, 10:30. My heart still pounding, but there was no turning back. I couldn't stay like this I would have a heart attack. I do a lot of pulse raising things.. big stages, audiences, talking to large groups, I even play my harp right when people leave this world. But nothing felt like this.<br />
<br />
I wanted to chicken out, but like in swim class when your at the edge of the diving board, you want to turn and run back to safety, but there is already a line of kids waiting to go. Can't go forward, can't go back. Just GO!! <br />
<br />
So I pressed the button, and a woman answered the phone. She wasn't the person I was asking for, she was her sister-in-law.She was so very nice, I relaxed some.<br />
She said that the person I was calling for no longer lived there.<br />
<br />
The person I wanted had been moved to a full time care facility, since she had her major stroke eight years ago. My heart is thumping. She said the person I was calling for was severely affected by the stroke and lost her ability to speak. And she never married, and she never had any other children. <br />
<br />
"Do you know if she's been to Thailand?" She said I should call back in a few hours when her husband was home. He was the brother of the woman I was asking for. She said she knew that her sister-in-law had been in the Peace Corp. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYuVyrBDu6PlpqNZalFKSyd04HGs7o_GtXwPbdKS2PaJZ0E99syJwHCm5CHTqigoFd4J5DpQnbY9Qpb5NY_h8P_G_xWaWIstDOHCNa3bUxaDDzJegzeS7WPphysh7P2OeY6v-KljWKtVj/s1600/Peace+corps.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivYuVyrBDu6PlpqNZalFKSyd04HGs7o_GtXwPbdKS2PaJZ0E99syJwHCm5CHTqigoFd4J5DpQnbY9Qpb5NY_h8P_G_xWaWIstDOHCNa3bUxaDDzJegzeS7WPphysh7P2OeY6v-KljWKtVj/s1600/Peace+corps.jpg" /></a>I called Paul, he said to me "Peace Corp! are you kidding!!!" Of course, the Peace Corp!! It must be Thailand!! You got it on the first call!!!! He was thrilled and amazed, and it was only then dawning on me, I might have reached her. On the first call.<br />
The Peace Corp. My heart was exploding, with happy and sad.<br />
<br />
I called again a few hours later. A man's voice on the phone. Her one brother. All my questions and plans went out the window. He had the questions, he was very direct, "are you looking for your birth mother?"<br />
<br />
Finally, I said, "yes". He said, "you found her". And I was talking to her brother, my uncle. It was her brother who was the key!.. because of him, and that he was an only brother, was the reason I found them all. <br />
<br />
He was protective and asked my intentions. My voice felt like it was hardly coming out as I explained that I only wanted to let her know that I had a good life, and that her decision so long ago turned out good for me. <br />
<br />
We talked for 45 emotional minutes. Yes, she was in the Peace Corp and stationed in Bangkok. There was so much to say, so much relief, so many questions, and putting puzzle pieces in together for each other. It was a surreal dream. It felt like the skies just opened, and sun was coming in. It all went by so fast, its hard to take it in still. But my birth mother was alive! and near San Diego, my uncle was helping with her care. He saw her often and they went out to parks sometimes in her wheelchair, and my birth mother could communicate with nods of yes or no.<br />
<br />
He was going to see her the next day and he would tell her about our contact and read her my blog story! Just like you have read here! He told me he had found out about her giving me up years later. He had always wondered about me. I had been on his mind many many times over all the years. <br />
<br />
I realized that even though I was so sad at first to learn of her physical situation, I was so happy that she was alive, and this wonderful uncle cared so much, and it mattered so much to him, and there was more family.. and cousins, and second cousins! The blessing felt so enormous.. He was being her voice for me. It was so big, for all of us! <br />
<br />
Everything was so surreal. Aryeh was there thank goodness. I think we were laughing and crying all at once, he helped me so much. All in the parking lot of a dairy queen in Morro Bay.. on Memorial day!<br />
<br />
By the time we made the four hour drive home to San Francisco, there were photos in my email! I couldn't believe my eyes were looking for the first time of my life upon<br />
the woman who gave me life. And I could see how I came from her! Perhaps I will post photos of her in the next writing, but I want to make sure that's all okay first with their family.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZc_BU975zJeOsGYAM-hKcIKVh7wF1gGWA2wogqcKKs07Mxx4LR6Q_gkEffwGb_wG0OVgusAiAG7BM6eFXEZVpI_zL6ALsL_aEah4vZL9IIwQZ6-X3ylBvKSyQNA1jbB8DLeJZjUxJLie/s1600/Jenny+and+I.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRZc_BU975zJeOsGYAM-hKcIKVh7wF1gGWA2wogqcKKs07Mxx4LR6Q_gkEffwGb_wG0OVgusAiAG7BM6eFXEZVpI_zL6ALsL_aEah4vZL9IIwQZ6-X3ylBvKSyQNA1jbB8DLeJZjUxJLie/s200/Jenny+and+I.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best sister ever for my whole life</td></tr>
</tbody></table>And... I will soon have photos of us all together! Because in three days on Tuesday the 12th, I will meet them! Me and my sister Jenny are driving down together to go to her care home, and there I will meet my uncle, his wife, their daughters, and my birth mother all at once! <br />
<br />
My uncle said she listened to my letters from my blog very intently. He asked her if she understood and she nodded yes, he asked her a few times to make sure she understood, and he asked her if this all made her happy, and she nodded yes, and would she like to meet me, and yes. He printed out these photo's I sent of me, and she now has these pictures with her! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTgQZ_-orEf6La6y0zUhH8ILCY_mkIGg4LhUHGauvSJUWDD_55qFaKIhO2C62MOphFimF_RNA9typtwRjuiJEkrYQLg_dAMiD5tc67_NKjSNTe5MoPdFOIBwDCQhN60Hn5yJdyFlUctVWd/s1600/Me%252C+Dad%252C+Jenny+2008+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><br />
<table align="center" 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/AVvXsEh9Ls2puftk-NxxYq36VyMS79IguoJtp6brddH_jlvRH5az7OW4zJU63yWO3oso14yVfe6bEuj_FpaRGhR1m7PE0bay-mP6mj-L-I7TDXFxoFHBwx7L1JrtYezEsw_lJamqiPEQeorj34KV/s1600/Mom+and+Dad+around+1968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="138" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Ls2puftk-NxxYq36VyMS79IguoJtp6brddH_jlvRH5az7OW4zJU63yWO3oso14yVfe6bEuj_FpaRGhR1m7PE0bay-mP6mj-L-I7TDXFxoFHBwx7L1JrtYezEsw_lJamqiPEQeorj34KV/s200/Mom+and+Dad+around+1968.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My parents </td></tr>
</tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo4GrXnAUmpo-nCVs5Q6wxYCL8ktkUnTgTPeETEa84V-IHnlrHfJ8u1_FX0QyEZOp1oGhytBumkj82fR54GjvxLMU6h_mdGSLPv8qUlHYkC-WQHSRLO98xenOjBhnEFr2CwAmNBniVrgc/s1600/Lisa+and+baby+Jen.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo4GrXnAUmpo-nCVs5Q6wxYCL8ktkUnTgTPeETEa84V-IHnlrHfJ8u1_FX0QyEZOp1oGhytBumkj82fR54GjvxLMU6h_mdGSLPv8qUlHYkC-WQHSRLO98xenOjBhnEFr2CwAmNBniVrgc/s200/Lisa+and+baby+Jen.jpg" width="196" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My sister Jenny</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-4z3olmUL2sxGR_iEohLsI_p8PFL7JiGnfZRIpD8C6C1GJK0RMyZAiY9zpVnE5eoheM7J_aRbfhqUfO9aoyqLEjkTeBl2ys3wlb5fZypbU20oiC5XyBTwbH4dPik3Tl7YmRN0kRAtvGR0/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+12+1+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-4z3olmUL2sxGR_iEohLsI_p8PFL7JiGnfZRIpD8C6C1GJK0RMyZAiY9zpVnE5eoheM7J_aRbfhqUfO9aoyqLEjkTeBl2ys3wlb5fZypbU20oiC5XyBTwbH4dPik3Tl7YmRN0kRAtvGR0/s200/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+12+1+2.jpg" width="139" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CY-bExBZet2GrSG4k4XoPx1QSHYlrMRQTsmptL_fqxr5tsQnfJ3T-bWCdQvCAa4H0d2wODw4SGsv1xvRFB2IvO7zjkhOyuUaigqfkprFriR5YtxG-pF4NxOpwqYXpKwW3Dyat40LkfrY/s1600/Lisa+high+school+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo4GrXnAUmpo-nCVs5Q6wxYCL8ktkUnTgTPeETEa84V-IHnlrHfJ8u1_FX0QyEZOp1oGhytBumkj82fR54GjvxLMU6h_mdGSLPv8qUlHYkC-WQHSRLO98xenOjBhnEFr2CwAmNBniVrgc/s1600/Lisa+and+baby+Jen.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ9pBRYO4_gEyx6HGjhsXMYA6XbLLNe_6664OZ0YNvdVz-zp-i3aPduAy40Y1BG_J2mSRAWnK0MAr1ifDDjm9nAjCTIx7pXrcN1JIN-H3bRd42orHe-ylygYbIQTf4IgQGyP9yIXn9qF2J/s1600/lisalynne13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLeadKpfYNZq1vyBuIjKZGthH-f7422b5jwh2M0hIUqaMSSWf2iuL4NftwRwyQXTMzZByEBhtD2LzvCy6dpeN_U3Pom-s_Xmf4P-Nzr08RvJQMzzoMuh0S_FnUP9uZOIjK3a4qTD9qrW8/s1600/lisa+paisley.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieLeadKpfYNZq1vyBuIjKZGthH-f7422b5jwh2M0hIUqaMSSWf2iuL4NftwRwyQXTMzZByEBhtD2LzvCy6dpeN_U3Pom-s_Xmf4P-Nzr08RvJQMzzoMuh0S_FnUP9uZOIjK3a4qTD9qrW8/s200/lisa+paisley.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkcsisqo3ONzcSFD86HxBeiMMDoEy0sk-OKoLu0UiH1dS1bbN77gmC4lN_r78V5MUADlYjozefL7RBtEp3bRqSpCwlh6j88LeQcIgSBat1c9pv6Z5diSMuP-I7neMxy5-S_b4J5lXhZCFR/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+20+1+7.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="153" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkcsisqo3ONzcSFD86HxBeiMMDoEy0sk-OKoLu0UiH1dS1bbN77gmC4lN_r78V5MUADlYjozefL7RBtEp3bRqSpCwlh6j88LeQcIgSBat1c9pv6Z5diSMuP-I7neMxy5-S_b4J5lXhZCFR/s200/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+20+1+7.jpg" width="200" /></a><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4CY-bExBZet2GrSG4k4XoPx1QSHYlrMRQTsmptL_fqxr5tsQnfJ3T-bWCdQvCAa4H0d2wODw4SGsv1xvRFB2IvO7zjkhOyuUaigqfkprFriR5YtxG-pF4NxOpwqYXpKwW3Dyat40LkfrY/s200/Lisa+high+school+1.jpg" width="151" /> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Z9edxRfACWTzMPoYYFvobREfwTSs0kyf4M23X92AwG2yIJaXY6wpDNf6BSmT7b7dzRBt361keGa64sxFOJkTYc7o0KQZ8oLwDcW7FGDRim1k8OxyR1JRWNuZgRKFlZ-XpB7-kIiLkSqU/s1600/IMGP3242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Z9edxRfACWTzMPoYYFvobREfwTSs0kyf4M23X92AwG2yIJaXY6wpDNf6BSmT7b7dzRBt361keGa64sxFOJkTYc7o0KQZ8oLwDcW7FGDRim1k8OxyR1JRWNuZgRKFlZ-XpB7-kIiLkSqU/s200/IMGP3242.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJ9KVtB2NBXnjVD6tXa3Z2iLDQRYWMhv-KzqZXgZCm10JaNom-ajVs5GOdrNM_VJdjW2xGvliSEvtSZgtHgOSmXpXokhtZKn7ez_HVEy6hYoRjcPwhRrp8qwTKGYcxVuyoSIXC1x2IgOG/s1600/lisa+guitar.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJ9KVtB2NBXnjVD6tXa3Z2iLDQRYWMhv-KzqZXgZCm10JaNom-ajVs5GOdrNM_VJdjW2xGvliSEvtSZgtHgOSmXpXokhtZKn7ez_HVEy6hYoRjcPwhRrp8qwTKGYcxVuyoSIXC1x2IgOG/s200/lisa+guitar.jpg" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-6BYr6M7IRk0Hdgqx0Ej53FxjEE3itRLfgaWu3vdqijgNvh8LaZpsnFMN6NO_YOgQNQv_hDV3Qljv7D0iWR0_Wb6aaRhyphenhyphenXfzTzHnUsssEVpAGEksc742w7s3uSpVKV4M7ciEgB3L0Fxe/s1600/pic+lisa+table+2_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz-6BYr6M7IRk0Hdgqx0Ej53FxjEE3itRLfgaWu3vdqijgNvh8LaZpsnFMN6NO_YOgQNQv_hDV3Qljv7D0iWR0_Wb6aaRhyphenhyphenXfzTzHnUsssEVpAGEksc742w7s3uSpVKV4M7ciEgB3L0Fxe/s200/pic+lisa+table+2_2.JPG" width="185" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJ9KVtB2NBXnjVD6tXa3Z2iLDQRYWMhv-KzqZXgZCm10JaNom-ajVs5GOdrNM_VJdjW2xGvliSEvtSZgtHgOSmXpXokhtZKn7ez_HVEy6hYoRjcPwhRrp8qwTKGYcxVuyoSIXC1x2IgOG/s1600/lisa+guitar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3aTPYpa0r7tajHzOVtmzslGde_yWcc290w0RH-6llEd-MAHY81k4dfWQyreFw8nkpTgHJckJyuBFZ1-JMFPLk-rZ-d5-VIstPE9b6umgsvAW2rvebhsW3OitYwEugsMwpaFN9-YpXiXUX/s1600/lisa+mountain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3aTPYpa0r7tajHzOVtmzslGde_yWcc290w0RH-6llEd-MAHY81k4dfWQyreFw8nkpTgHJckJyuBFZ1-JMFPLk-rZ-d5-VIstPE9b6umgsvAW2rvebhsW3OitYwEugsMwpaFN9-YpXiXUX/s200/lisa+mountain.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFJ9KVtB2NBXnjVD6tXa3Z2iLDQRYWMhv-KzqZXgZCm10JaNom-ajVs5GOdrNM_VJdjW2xGvliSEvtSZgtHgOSmXpXokhtZKn7ez_HVEy6hYoRjcPwhRrp8qwTKGYcxVuyoSIXC1x2IgOG/s1600/lisa+guitar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0xlB9qDsV353keN9ido5mGanGpUXgH-RFj3fKh_D8rG887LR1muHe7tva7lEF_BuIfBP6v8TR2_rPhoFz5Pf64APiP65TcBmVTmdts99q8HRjrp7GkcHiFUO46VZL5UulxdSe0oeuNydn/s1600/lisa+fm+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0xlB9qDsV353keN9ido5mGanGpUXgH-RFj3fKh_D8rG887LR1muHe7tva7lEF_BuIfBP6v8TR2_rPhoFz5Pf64APiP65TcBmVTmdts99q8HRjrp7GkcHiFUO46VZL5UulxdSe0oeuNydn/s200/lisa+fm+3.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuo4GrXnAUmpo-nCVs5Q6wxYCL8ktkUnTgTPeETEa84V-IHnlrHfJ8u1_FX0QyEZOp1oGhytBumkj82fR54GjvxLMU6h_mdGSLPv8qUlHYkC-WQHSRLO98xenOjBhnEFr2CwAmNBniVrgc/s1600/Lisa+and+baby+Jen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><br />
</a></div>I know that there will be a lot of emotions. I don't know how my birth mother will be as she is on a lot of medication. My uncle has done his best to prepare me for the reality of the situation. I'm not even sure what I will say to her, or how much we can connect. Or if she will realize its me and what is happening at the time. All I can do is show up and just try to do and say the right things. An think of lots of "yes or no" questions! Maybe she would like to hear me play my harp. There are already so many blessings. This story so far has unfolded much differently than all my many imaginings . But it is my story, and now I have one.<br />
<br />
So, my friends and my precious family.. stay tuned. Much more to come and<br />
very soon. <br />
<br />
End of part four<br />
<br />
<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/07/adoption-story-part-five-meeting.html">Here is part five</a></div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-90880715327833249572011-05-31T09:06:00.000-07:002011-07-23T08:49:41.564-07:00Lisa Lynne Adoption Story - Part Three<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">If your just now joining me, part one and two are listed down to the left in the archives. <br />
<br />
In 1990 I received my first information about the circumstances of my adoption. My biological mother's privacy was protected by the LA county bureau of adoptions. So I couldn't know her name, but could leave a letter in my file. But only if she checked the file, it would be there for her. So I typed out one page on and old style typewriter and told her about my life. I had a wonderful family, a fine childhood, and that I was a musician, and a happy person. I said the things I loved and experienced. Mostly I let her know that I always thought so much of what she did, to give me up in hopes I would have a better life than she could give at the time. <br />
<br />
Strangely, after I wrote the letter I felt a sense of peace about it knowing that if she wanted to look and see there would be a message from me there. It's probably still there now.<br />
<br />
To go back a little bit... <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIb2bVvB44syEqJMadoPpTPI_i0kcG9OSG47wOml68nVUpbV5deV2_YghrNpcGyKYpfho8W9-f5kvR6d0N3Bx94rF4LicIUhyphenhyphenT-gVU3Q5DAhx3eWoE4Z-1D1YYkqceq7gan6BBQiLR3tPc/s1600/markus+6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIb2bVvB44syEqJMadoPpTPI_i0kcG9OSG47wOml68nVUpbV5deV2_YghrNpcGyKYpfho8W9-f5kvR6d0N3Bx94rF4LicIUhyphenhyphenT-gVU3Q5DAhx3eWoE4Z-1D1YYkqceq7gan6BBQiLR3tPc/s200/markus+6.jpg" width="200" /></a>By 1985, I had been working as a professional musician. I moved from Orange County, CA to Hollywood and finally attended Musicians Institute of Technology in 1988 & 1989. <br />
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Right when I got into school in 1988, I had a car accident. I had only whiplash but it ruined my van which I relied on for all my gigs. I had to take another three month Top 40 tour in Alaska to afford another van and re-start school again in six months. I learned about video editing on the side, and although I was in the bass guitar program, I ended up creating my first serious band for my harp.<br />
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After that I was working various music jobs and was also a cocktail waitress in a Hollywood club were I waited on rock stars and movie stars. I ended up writing a popular column in a music paper that tattled on the stars that were bad tippers. I was an anonymous columnist of "True Tales from Behind the Tray" by Jackie Daniels.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ-2VdnVGGuKq6nXDycjzfJz-TSIPYeBxDvyAlcOFy__AzmzsfHMR1uhscUvqouuxIjq_b9c8y-rQf6EiP3F9oNI1KwdGhsCA2fCHYbkXnyJltiAKcrchNPMuRZERBYZaj5yRL8IiHroqb/s1600/TATA.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/AVvXsEiJ-2VdnVGGuKq6nXDycjzfJz-TSIPYeBxDvyAlcOFy__AzmzsfHMR1uhscUvqouuxIjq_b9c8y-rQf6EiP3F9oNI1KwdGhsCA2fCHYbkXnyJltiAKcrchNPMuRZERBYZaj5yRL8IiHroqb/s200/TATA.JPG" width="163" /></a></div>In 1990, we lost my father's father, Florencio S. Franco. a loving man who adored is four sons, one daughter, 11 grandchildren including me, and many great grandchildren. He worked for the railroad in Los Angeles his whole life. He loved music and had a lovely soprano voice which he sang to us in Spanish. While his heart failed, my Nana never left his side. They were so in love, all the way to the end and married for over 50 years. He always said "mama was the boss". She wouldn't leave his hospital bedside. When finally she did for a moment to eat. He went to heaven. She lived another decade but counted the days until she would join him.<br />
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My sister Jenny married Jeff, a super terrific guy. They have two kids, Trevor and Annelyse who are a great joy in my life, the biggest blessing ever. I never had kids of my own, I love them as much as if they were mine.They are now 14 and 10. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJva2hvWHG_77TVYepbbg01niTF0SuFZl2bsijn24f5T95Se_h1Gbgwd4qlKZoC6BPxFWT76ysBDoBuKmX84ZCylLYs5ftzoQ2RbckuimaByjGzLoVztws_bDb9tgemumkS7Yzf_HD7IG/s1600/trev+%2526+annie+on+piano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIJva2hvWHG_77TVYepbbg01niTF0SuFZl2bsijn24f5T95Se_h1Gbgwd4qlKZoC6BPxFWT76ysBDoBuKmX84ZCylLYs5ftzoQ2RbckuimaByjGzLoVztws_bDb9tgemumkS7Yzf_HD7IG/s200/trev+%2526+annie+on+piano.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA9jxjZaUOQSgsCWIF0saGHvm85NF_aseX7AUPGbxlpnLY4F0Utq6H1PmjlTvPdF5H8IF6qa-ulkQ0JVG3L0_492-uWgSODNRAMOvRBpCqvd9jliHyUqGwSdofXXCvweliYqHGVsUvp3LG/s1600/lisa+%2526+annie+blanket+ride.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/AVvXsEiA9jxjZaUOQSgsCWIF0saGHvm85NF_aseX7AUPGbxlpnLY4F0Utq6H1PmjlTvPdF5H8IF6qa-ulkQ0JVG3L0_492-uWgSODNRAMOvRBpCqvd9jliHyUqGwSdofXXCvweliYqHGVsUvp3LG/s200/lisa+%2526+annie+blanket+ride.jpg" width="136" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzkq78CYWqkPl6rdTCCoDXkur1kB5sB20lqcWJTyCHnT1oJCu7dGSZ0fFPRvSee7kc0pJu9hZnJBL6gmlfcRBn2_Q1nd7ZHGh2Jbl4SBLdYkui53wQpf-kF6hIWQjJR7X0qH_O_KGZ3Zc/s1600/dad+window.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOzkq78CYWqkPl6rdTCCoDXkur1kB5sB20lqcWJTyCHnT1oJCu7dGSZ0fFPRvSee7kc0pJu9hZnJBL6gmlfcRBn2_Q1nd7ZHGh2Jbl4SBLdYkui53wQpf-kF6hIWQjJR7X0qH_O_KGZ3Zc/s200/dad+window.jpg" width="200" /></a>We do a lot of fun stuff together, we make video movies with special effects, cooking shows.. music shows, dance parties, arts and crafts. Trevor's too old for that stuff by now, but Annelyse is always ready for fun. I visit them in Laguna Beach pretty often. My sister Jenny is the best mom ever.<br />
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My father was diagnosed with Cancer and twice he was able to beat it with surgery and radiation. In between those times he was able to enjoy traveling in his RV for summer long trips with Margaret and visiting the kids and now grand kids.He still loved campfires and outdoor grilling and was always ready to go anywhere to see me play my music.We have so many great photos because Margaret was a photographer. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeH4h4htr-ceaP4oaccqcl-EIcXV9RgROavdHx0KUFQsSjQ4QCVEj006l17Zge_IQQfmY2AIQNhb_vsoy04vsFPh14jNHKTjv_KN5TSUof4WHFianeNElH6dA6_hERDxKKNDiZ-Uy8JyT/s1600/lisa-dad+bonnie+ranch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipeH4h4htr-ceaP4oaccqcl-EIcXV9RgROavdHx0KUFQsSjQ4QCVEj006l17Zge_IQQfmY2AIQNhb_vsoy04vsFPh14jNHKTjv_KN5TSUof4WHFianeNElH6dA6_hERDxKKNDiZ-Uy8JyT/s200/lisa-dad+bonnie+ranch.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
My mom Carol never remarried but enjoyed a life of working in National Parks and living in beautiful places with mountains and forest. She loves nature so much. She, my aunt and my grandma were always doing crafts and inventing good ideas.<br />
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I was sending out tapes of my music while still waitressing and got my first record contract in Germany. I traveled there several years in a row to do concerts and make my first few records there. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVyarjk1Bv0hyphenhyphenUYoieAkBm-yJP2Odmxz40Pq1Hka6xzfzTF2Y-o2yZEiuGY8XQtUUQuhu4Qg6I6EhP45nOKvl8pwqdSf3kwzbVgpWFCDGLhieJ2d1NdoQj5G60DixNs0IhvCnRmRmT4F9w/s1600/bigger+than+blue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVyarjk1Bv0hyphenhyphenUYoieAkBm-yJP2Odmxz40Pq1Hka6xzfzTF2Y-o2yZEiuGY8XQtUUQuhu4Qg6I6EhP45nOKvl8pwqdSf3kwzbVgpWFCDGLhieJ2d1NdoQj5G60DixNs0IhvCnRmRmT4F9w/s200/bigger+than+blue.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnT6y-T1nqa9o8x1bQOSvlgcNH0_ct1nZ23OaDg9YimhVVMz6bh9Iq5HdZCl5Mm69KYj9qprcVislXZsZZyUDCK_TJCjJFUN88TrS_3H7CcAXMiV_dDBd1pmWuY88q1D7ZucnVCoXZB5iW/s1600/Lisa+in+Europe+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnT6y-T1nqa9o8x1bQOSvlgcNH0_ct1nZ23OaDg9YimhVVMz6bh9Iq5HdZCl5Mm69KYj9qprcVislXZsZZyUDCK_TJCjJFUN88TrS_3H7CcAXMiV_dDBd1pmWuY88q1D7ZucnVCoXZB5iW/s320/Lisa+in+Europe+copy.jpg" width="225" /></a><br />
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Those records never quite made it to the US, so I was still street performing on Venice Beach Boardwalk. This lead to more traveling and street performing around the country and Canada.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuySyyav9YniVYljAJLCADtGzCMu7ygYTU65PYwjzLFoi9lkPGrcZL9gpoLUPhTrgzrIsV_caO7OiWAKg8iAoAICrcVLbZIxjxrg1H8nUVYkDdzIGamLwa9o558mhODZr-EQ9XWAn9yAIr/s1600/venice+trio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuySyyav9YniVYljAJLCADtGzCMu7ygYTU65PYwjzLFoi9lkPGrcZL9gpoLUPhTrgzrIsV_caO7OiWAKg8iAoAICrcVLbZIxjxrg1H8nUVYkDdzIGamLwa9o558mhODZr-EQ9XWAn9yAIr/s1600/venice+trio.jpg" /></a></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1iEJm2x1xn-xEJWutBcanu9AYjUPT8862HRmnRQdkGnWHVaSBTGAzrPtp2-yLx_J1s-BYvUWFfPHkWUZ1WRNWv6sDhJSwiWQabIt9M90T54FSUy0xL7vInJNyrtSmLnzPu58OC9D6hE_/s1600/nova+scotia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR1iEJm2x1xn-xEJWutBcanu9AYjUPT8862HRmnRQdkGnWHVaSBTGAzrPtp2-yLx_J1s-BYvUWFfPHkWUZ1WRNWv6sDhJSwiWQabIt9M90T54FSUy0xL7vInJNyrtSmLnzPu58OC9D6hE_/s200/nova+scotia.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">International Buskers festival in Nova Scotia, Canada<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFp7FD7deTY8qQQ_95Svkmw0EtmbUUL7K9Apjs0f4uQTWSpPkf3cLPOqLb2SsWNB5OEyiF6LRF6gMm68lwNf6XH5o9flnK_4ojDcW4A6mk-aO2r8sGHZRo9Cs-54v3Hyv_PDHA-4nB3rX/s1600/LapHarpIreland+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFp7FD7deTY8qQQ_95Svkmw0EtmbUUL7K9Apjs0f4uQTWSpPkf3cLPOqLb2SsWNB5OEyiF6LRF6gMm68lwNf6XH5o9flnK_4ojDcW4A6mk-aO2r8sGHZRo9Cs-54v3Hyv_PDHA-4nB3rX/s200/LapHarpIreland+-+Version+2.jpg" width="143" /></a></div> Ireland</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</tbody></table>There were years of day after day performing long hours for tips and tape sales in every place possible. College campuses, art fairs, street festivals and shopping malls. There were snow storms and broken down vans, terrible motels, walking pneumonia IRS audits and US Customs fines.<br />
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One time I had a late night gig, and an early morning recording session. I opted to park my van by my bedroom window and leave everything inside. When I came out the van was gone. For three days I posted pictures of my harp at every pawn shop. That's all I cared about, not the guitars or mandolins or electric gear, I just wanted the harp. A Latin TV station I had just performed on showed pictures of the van and told my story. The next day the van was recovered and I was told to go to impound. The van had a screwdriver still stuck in the ignition. It was stripped and empty. Except for the harp. <br />
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Somehow I sold over 100,000 tapes and CDs on my own little label. Because of that, I was invited to the top floor office with my harp to RCA/Windham Hill. I was asked to play my harp, and to show my manufacturing receipts for my CD sales. I was signed to a major recording contract. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi766e2gOJxXziD419GL5p1fI_DL1JdEAv0hoPBFGsF9lkxdl2aFFIn3yHgvI5CmS0sDcm2TYhKu3taQFfI-F7js2l5to0TNSq31PR79BIP5-v0-2UwC_MVCjR1nUwmnoZwCelEZkJK_B73/s1600/LisaGeoStoned.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi766e2gOJxXziD419GL5p1fI_DL1JdEAv0hoPBFGsF9lkxdl2aFFIn3yHgvI5CmS0sDcm2TYhKu3taQFfI-F7js2l5to0TNSq31PR79BIP5-v0-2UwC_MVCjR1nUwmnoZwCelEZkJK_B73/s200/LisaGeoStoned.jpg" width="139" /></a>Around that time I met my magical musical partner George Tortorelli at a festival in Florida. We were a couple for the first two years of our now 13 year friendship. He plays flutes for all my music, we have toured extensively as a duo and had every kind of adventure. He lives in Florida where we perform often. He was already a well known musician in his own rite. We have a very special sound that people truly love. He taught me all about enjoying life, shutting off the pager and canoeing through nature...and where to hang hammocks in Maui. He is truly the wise brother I always wanted in my life. Still is. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLJOI5abhqAdfvWYeUCpCbEHFlRMzQ-NiM1m4i0JU1gS266hMHgnAqLn4RAo2zYlv4MdXZ_77jfcZJhA6IWIjrL7Hc5uqN4LTq7VnEmxW2AtCy3TLb8EmXaGW_iogvlhI5-USCqTyhIn6/s1600/street+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilLJOI5abhqAdfvWYeUCpCbEHFlRMzQ-NiM1m4i0JU1gS266hMHgnAqLn4RAo2zYlv4MdXZ_77jfcZJhA6IWIjrL7Hc5uqN4LTq7VnEmxW2AtCy3TLb8EmXaGW_iogvlhI5-USCqTyhIn6/s200/street+5.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">George and I at the Florida Folk Festival on the Swanee River</td></tr>
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Right when my first major label album release came out, I had an extreme headache so I went to an emergency room and while I was filling out forms I had a seizure. I had brain swelling and the left side of the brain was torn in two places. I was in critical care and it was a mystery why it happened. I also developed blood clots in both of my legs from the hip to the ankle. I had emergency surgery to put a permanent device in my main artery that would protect my organs from stroke. I was bedridden for six months. It was a slow recovery and it was eventually determined that I had contracted west nile virus in Florida, which caused the brain swelling. I was trying to feed a baby owl that had fallen through a fireplace. The owl was sick and dying. The mosquitoes were biting the owl, and then me. The legs were hardest to endure and recover from. I have had a few more blood clots since then and my legs have never fully been the same.<br />
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So after all I had been through to that point in my music life, I missed my big chance to promote that album and do all the planned performances and activities around it. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguy4ZcA1g5px64vW7I_Ni7IJCF4HOj-nBIr0joh49nSj1BzKtZ6mc6Ti8JYuNTRbGGaIEHww4SeN_eL-I7_voqwAlYlm7BldVHZ6QZT8UzxftihulzefytnuS3wxMfINo1JBzyGpcXM9ID/s1600/LISA%2526D%257E1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguy4ZcA1g5px64vW7I_Ni7IJCF4HOj-nBIr0joh49nSj1BzKtZ6mc6Ti8JYuNTRbGGaIEHww4SeN_eL-I7_voqwAlYlm7BldVHZ6QZT8UzxftihulzefytnuS3wxMfINo1JBzyGpcXM9ID/s320/LISA%2526D%257E1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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But the next year I had another chance, and things changed for me. I was touring in beautiful performing arts centers and theaters across the US. Making more records in fine studios, and performing with some of the greatest musicians you can imagine. After many tries I finally had a record in the Billboard Top 10 New Age Music charts. I had a full band of my dreams.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvoS09xPxF36I5dJrT_fMfFCfeIdlkQ7Tft3V3aJLGVJvJyYk6UQsQhrlWepcgSSuZEGF-Lly8Ko2PmtJiDCYLIkzXnBzj3UsxALIxfN9g7jPLg98L_KmxFe1yi7lXEazv18o4lWcIa9x/s1600/big+stage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTvoS09xPxF36I5dJrT_fMfFCfeIdlkQ7Tft3V3aJLGVJvJyYk6UQsQhrlWepcgSSuZEGF-Lly8Ko2PmtJiDCYLIkzXnBzj3UsxALIxfN9g7jPLg98L_KmxFe1yi7lXEazv18o4lWcIa9x/s320/big+stage.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The best thing about this new level was the tools you get to use. Writing and recording the music was my highest love. To be able to record with state of the art technology was the greatest experience so far. To be able to hear at new levels. <br />
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My next very important relationship was with Gilberto "Gil" Morales. He was my good friend and gifted audio engineer for my music before we were together as a couple for eight years. He was an important part all that decade of music. He also was a musician who played many instruments. A true friend for life.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqw9hVmlMloby7gBy5qZMnAAJtx74dHA6jpizBtq3x2wFOHan4cb5-JKGdm9eWBb-w872V83pnLrxoLsHQ3_s-1MN7HI0Ewjqq3_Pz_hzSyN5trmpKMQEyneiW13s0aoIn5f9o8E0-rJO5/s1600/Gil+board.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqw9hVmlMloby7gBy5qZMnAAJtx74dHA6jpizBtq3x2wFOHan4cb5-JKGdm9eWBb-w872V83pnLrxoLsHQ3_s-1MN7HI0Ewjqq3_Pz_hzSyN5trmpKMQEyneiW13s0aoIn5f9o8E0-rJO5/s200/Gil+board.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1Px95qEzq0-dkN8ajh-fCvI3WVRZPbSXxR-kQSkF8DAZicX5kuUTMj-e0AUamByzWtiKLkMt9xjpjt_SxcZn_KBC7qGHNxUgdtezV9f_SBuvvhPCdx7XBK2AWJWFRlTjYUqlJmhpw8YZ/s1600/lisa+Gil+jpeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1Px95qEzq0-dkN8ajh-fCvI3WVRZPbSXxR-kQSkF8DAZicX5kuUTMj-e0AUamByzWtiKLkMt9xjpjt_SxcZn_KBC7qGHNxUgdtezV9f_SBuvvhPCdx7XBK2AWJWFRlTjYUqlJmhpw8YZ/s200/lisa+Gil+jpeg.jpg" width="135" /></a><br />
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My fathers' mother Adelina lived a long life and we made a lot of plans that she would visit me from heaven and how I would know it was her.<br />
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This is her 90th birthday party surrounded by all of her children. All my aunts and uncles and cousins I grew up with and their babies came together to honor Adelina. This is the whole Franco clan, me on the right. <br />
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Only the very last weeks of her 95 years did my Nana lose her memory. But in this moment when I held up her face she recognized me and Margaret took this photo. It came out with a white star reflection of light on her chest. She passed just a few days later.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeRYETY9TAryH0m5MqUsieyfWSAXYTkAxzkA2K9KXQ5UCi4VHI3i3Mz78EfYbkts0cKAk9QgemCll-4MV8KyKR_PHasE_27yPK9aSbssWfrgXCX_ReiStfvoKeiPeKMr38mD83qws736E/s1600/lisa+airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeRYETY9TAryH0m5MqUsieyfWSAXYTkAxzkA2K9KXQ5UCi4VHI3i3Mz78EfYbkts0cKAk9QgemCll-4MV8KyKR_PHasE_27yPK9aSbssWfrgXCX_ReiStfvoKeiPeKMr38mD83qws736E/s1600/lisa+airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeRYETY9TAryH0m5MqUsieyfWSAXYTkAxzkA2K9KXQ5UCi4VHI3i3Mz78EfYbkts0cKAk9QgemCll-4MV8KyKR_PHasE_27yPK9aSbssWfrgXCX_ReiStfvoKeiPeKMr38mD83qws736E/s1600/lisa+airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeRYETY9TAryH0m5MqUsieyfWSAXYTkAxzkA2K9KXQ5UCi4VHI3i3Mz78EfYbkts0cKAk9QgemCll-4MV8KyKR_PHasE_27yPK9aSbssWfrgXCX_ReiStfvoKeiPeKMr38mD83qws736E/s1600/lisa+airport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbeRYETY9TAryH0m5MqUsieyfWSAXYTkAxzkA2K9KXQ5UCi4VHI3i3Mz78EfYbkts0cKAk9QgemCll-4MV8KyKR_PHasE_27yPK9aSbssWfrgXCX_ReiStfvoKeiPeKMr38mD83qws736E/s1600/lisa+airport.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/AVvXsEhbeRYETY9TAryH0m5MqUsieyfWSAXYTkAxzkA2K9KXQ5UCi4VHI3i3Mz78EfYbkts0cKAk9QgemCll-4MV8KyKR_PHasE_27yPK9aSbssWfrgXCX_ReiStfvoKeiPeKMr38mD83qws736E/s200/lisa+airport.jpg" width="172" /></a><br />
As the record industry changed and the economy shifted, the big bus mega tours weren't happening anymore. Windham Hill label folded up shop and I ended up signing to New Earth Records and working more on my own label and my own touring and promotions. I had a big experience around the Columbine tragedy and started doing Therapuetic music in hospitals. My programs grew faster than I could keep up with. Weekdays were playing music in intensive care units and weekends flying to the east coast for shows. I handled all parts of my business from my mobile office and worked a lot in airports. I never stopped day or night. I got another blood clot in my hip while performing in Utah, and had emergency blood thinning shots, and now pills too.That was hard for me because I have always gone the natural route. But the blood thinners helped me out a lot. I finally admitted. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW599-2XHeYOTeN3nIU1cWo6DPIx-DIdDSvGGf36Qz5lY5dx7lWE9SW-tDH_ewD6e2uFoXELQN6h-wbeSSHCG3iYwnhqzcqeKs34LBlqYWusss1hUtQiArmShtVI6vHRrNSOdy9bsuUJ7F/s1600/dad+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW599-2XHeYOTeN3nIU1cWo6DPIx-DIdDSvGGf36Qz5lY5dx7lWE9SW-tDH_ewD6e2uFoXELQN6h-wbeSSHCG3iYwnhqzcqeKs34LBlqYWusss1hUtQiArmShtVI6vHRrNSOdy9bsuUJ7F/s200/dad+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>My father's Cancer returned and this time it was in his lungs behind his sternum and there was no solution for it. He endured many procedures to prolong his life. It was a hard four years while his health declined. Margaret was devoted to him every moment. They were so in love after 24 years of marriage. He just wanted us to be normal and kept telling us not to be sad and worry. How much he enjoyed his life. He never complained.<br />
He kept telling us how proud he was of all of us. <br />
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I stayed there with them in Nevada to help Margaret and be there for his last part of life. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, and how I couldn't have had a better dad in the whole world. There was so much I had to write it all out. Even though he already knew it. I wanted to tell him anyway everything I learned from him. And that I would do all the things he wished for me, and we would all be okay even though we would miss him our whole lives. <br />
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On one of the last days of his life, I read him my letter with shaky hands. Margaret took a picture of the hug he gave me. I will treasure this photo my whole life. <br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">He died on January 22, 2009. With all of us around him.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAmuBxpzSAy4BhS5bPuKPkXDaSgSHKnpNW07pfitSnoStiouzyvgbXpxqlQyHlF26Ea9EqL7Rz9C9usqX073WMC2KQ57GLqFnMVKCUbZA-PXPkzzj_jth6wcmFWVl4vfYc0zD49q6QN-Qc/s1600/f.+e.+franco+portrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAmuBxpzSAy4BhS5bPuKPkXDaSgSHKnpNW07pfitSnoStiouzyvgbXpxqlQyHlF26Ea9EqL7Rz9C9usqX073WMC2KQ57GLqFnMVKCUbZA-PXPkzzj_jth6wcmFWVl4vfYc0zD49q6QN-Qc/s320/f.+e.+franco+portrait.jpg" width="279" /></a></div><br />
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My grandma on my moms side passed just a few months later. But she still came to my fathers memorial with my mom. She was sharp right to the end. She knew how to live and taught us all how to enjoy life. We released white balloons for her in the park where we gathered. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0U9tPx6kOhV9XolfUrh8iPHl0uZsCftqCstzoIaWJ5YxjcWmiTuXvR4B28q5UD8i2QNZw-3ItUTgJEXC4dmDOiwvVBCsitcgqWHf4rWPH4YxQk5vmzBp4JJz5Z8ZNQ_zG9whsHJtxX9-I/s1600/grandma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0U9tPx6kOhV9XolfUrh8iPHl0uZsCftqCstzoIaWJ5YxjcWmiTuXvR4B28q5UD8i2QNZw-3ItUTgJEXC4dmDOiwvVBCsitcgqWHf4rWPH4YxQk5vmzBp4JJz5Z8ZNQ_zG9whsHJtxX9-I/s200/grandma.jpg" width="197" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRmcbg4S8ZIRuVzgd0qxBz_GMduaE4R87Q9MZBXPCpQkGzZcPcyX3vW28pgZJ6l4lvrRd5Q2Jmz3bfea3JKp14to5F6FD-Hmggf3sPdQo2Cgtg1GBv57_8mdubUT7M9vRehdVG5xra5XE/s1600/Lisa+Mom+cruise.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfRmcbg4S8ZIRuVzgd0qxBz_GMduaE4R87Q9MZBXPCpQkGzZcPcyX3vW28pgZJ6l4lvrRd5Q2Jmz3bfea3JKp14to5F6FD-Hmggf3sPdQo2Cgtg1GBv57_8mdubUT7M9vRehdVG5xra5XE/s200/Lisa+Mom+cruise.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">George and I had a funny gig playing on a cruise ship. I brought my mom along. We sailed the Caribbean and thought it was funny that folks kept wanting to hear our cosmic version of theme from Titanic. </div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLt8C3IktWfHxI0LtM02twUXsac9KQh0LqCjBf2bUYfCyj_Zqs4crfAkhEAtiTOrkXu_H9TlT8DNR9B90T56cNzwNddFsLZvRKCHh1GfL8ARf6Jw_W9vZrV-1Xu6F5YXmwl8nxGOCvA0lV/s1600/lisa+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLt8C3IktWfHxI0LtM02twUXsac9KQh0LqCjBf2bUYfCyj_Zqs4crfAkhEAtiTOrkXu_H9TlT8DNR9B90T56cNzwNddFsLZvRKCHh1GfL8ARf6Jw_W9vZrV-1Xu6F5YXmwl8nxGOCvA0lV/s200/lisa+beach.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
I decided to start taking better care of myself and moved to a place right on the beach in Marina Del Rey for a year. I just kept taking walks to strengthen my legs and figure out what I was going to do differently than the workaholic thing.<br />
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Along came Aryeh, and his beautiful son Abraham. I fell in love with them both.<br />
So I moved to San Francisco. Its a happy life here. A healthy life too. Aryeh is a great musician and we create music together as well. I love his parents too. <br />
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I still go to L.A often. I have my hospital music programs now over 10 years. I have special gigs and speaking engagements. I get invited to present my music and story at large conferences and spiritual retreats. I am fullfilled most when I bring my 15 harps to schools and hospitals to teach people to play. I still fly for shows and festivals, but half as much. I take more time off and spend time with my friends, I do cooking and mosiacs. I take much better care of my health.<br />
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My mom Carol and I bought a house together in Northwest Montana, she lives there now and we visit. She says she has never been happier in her life. <br />
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As I was just writing this, my mom just read part two<br />
of my story and posted this:<span class="messageBody"> </span><br />
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<span class="messageBody">"Right now there are tears on my cheeks as I have just finished reading the blog my oldest daughter is writing about her adoption, childhood and search for her biological mother. I am crying because I made many mistakes over the years but I'm also crying because the woman gave me the greatest gift and these are tears of joy and gratitude."</span><br />
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See how lucky I am? <br />
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Jenny is a full fledged soccer mom. They are busy bees having lots of fun too. She's been married now for 16 years. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijB-LYM1yBhkIB8Yk3b3xO1o1DXtVgMegv15STCL41Br2k_6kH2cD_YgcDYuO3k9dEt5M0oBTTXhGWfV8WXXBwV9UXZFuvkTnROvC0JeCM_1RcspS0QlhBZXvZ8Sf0P9wEb2NlR95HNZkG/s1600/Jenny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijB-LYM1yBhkIB8Yk3b3xO1o1DXtVgMegv15STCL41Br2k_6kH2cD_YgcDYuO3k9dEt5M0oBTTXhGWfV8WXXBwV9UXZFuvkTnROvC0JeCM_1RcspS0QlhBZXvZ8Sf0P9wEb2NlR95HNZkG/s320/Jenny.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Margaret is just starting to come out a little bit. Her grief is long and hard. She visits us and I her. She carries on the festivities that she and Dad enjoyed doing for the kids. Her two daughters are grown. My stepsister Gwen and I visit sometimes.<br />
We all miss my dad so much. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMM38CYLWPVSrArJG2VTISaNpMleFQ1k2qFIntiFKBFwFNyuSRls6elWgir4Z6lF8Mj1hG3cyWpFjOP0zRDsHwMMNROL7bGEY_vDLR7gitofuhURR0ygmm9Yla_nq4oBXnta8SxajUAh43/s1600/margaret+in+San+Fran.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMM38CYLWPVSrArJG2VTISaNpMleFQ1k2qFIntiFKBFwFNyuSRls6elWgir4Z6lF8Mj1hG3cyWpFjOP0zRDsHwMMNROL7bGEY_vDLR7gitofuhURR0ygmm9Yla_nq4oBXnta8SxajUAh43/s200/margaret+in+San+Fran.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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So, were up to date. An unusual set of divine interventions happen, and I decide it's time to look for my birth mother again.<br />
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I had no idea it was going to happen so fast.<br />
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End of part three. <br />
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<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/06/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-four-how.html">Here is part four</a><br />
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</div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-89668932743111793812011-05-29T17:24:00.000-07:002011-05-29T17:27:55.802-07:00Vblog #36 Performance at Ohio Harp Gathering<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Z_eYukdKpmE" width="480"></iframe><br />
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Once a year in Northwestern Ohio, "The Harp Gathering" brings harp lovers and harp players from all over the country and Canada. They take workshops all day from incredible harp artists around the lovely Sauder Village Inn. In the evenings there are shows where wonderful performances from the visiting instructors take place. I got to hang with my buddies Kim Robertson, Charlene Wallace and Louis Trotter. There were several more amazing harpers that I had never met including the hosts Denise and Michael Grupp-Verbon from Tapestry, also Frank Voltz, and Timothy Harper from Canada. I was loaned this harp to use by Jeff Lewis from "Lewis Creek Harps" to use. As you can imagine, it was a love fest with all those lovely people and harp enthusiasts in one place, and it was a busy three days. I taught three workshops, one about working with other musicians, one about music business and promotion, and one about my "Hands-on-Harps" programs for hospital harp music. Every minute was fun, and the hotel was first class. <br />
I edited together a few bits from my part of the evening concerts. For more information about this event, visit www.HarpGathering.com</div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-63227103515332581392011-05-16T21:40:00.000-07:002011-07-23T08:48:13.084-07:00Lisa Lynne Adoption Story - Part Two<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>This is part two of my adoption story. If your just joining me, there is "part one" below, just scroll down to the explanation there of my intentions with this writing and how the story begins. Thank you all so much for the support you are giving me. I'm so glad I have all of you to share this experience with. It gives me courage. <br />
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Here goes..<br />
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There are two parallel things happening at the same time.<br />
Once I made the decision to hire a specialist to help find my biological mother, its happening much faster than I imagined. There are lists, names and possibilities already emerging, and I am pulling open boxes of photos from my life. I feel as though I'm running to catch up, and also going backwards in time. I want to have my story place in case I make contact with any of my biological relations. In case she would rather not meet, maybe she would read this and know I was okay. <br />
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There is a lot of curiosity from my family and friends, so I will tell you this much. Soon I will be caught up with the back story and we'll be in real time. <br />
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Based on my unique circumstances and a very common maiden name of my birth mother. It's a miracle we can narrow it down. But we have. There are 347 potential women that match the information. From that, there are 47 in California, eleven in Los Angeles, (where I was adopted) and there is one of the 47, who might have all the right details that we are looking for. I have a name, the contact info, and it will be up to me to make the first contact. I'm getting advised how to do it. And I'll go one by one down a list until I find the woman who has been in Thailand. <br />
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I get a little dizzy just thinking about what I'll say, but I am being coached by an expert with vast experience at bringing out the best situation possible. I am going to try my best to go about this with the best wisdom I can. It's possible I will have answers very soon. So I'm rushing to write this down! <br />
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So, this story is for my biological mother, this is what happened in my next chapter of life. <br />
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I left off when I was eight, learning to play guitar. It was the best thing that could have happened to me. It shook my soul. When I first saw my twin cousins playing their guitars, I was transfixed. They taught me "Blowing in the Wind" and I played it over and over, and bought my first guitar with my own saved money from the Sears catalog for $14.99. After some lessons my dad surprised me with a new classical guitar from Mexico. My first guitar became a home for my hamster. <br />
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Two years later my parents separated and then divorced. I took it really hard. My mom tried to explain that people who marry young often grow apart. I was angry and sad. We moved to Long Beach and I suffered migraine headaches and stomach aches for the next several years. I didn't like my very curly hair so I tried everything to straighten it. I had to baby sit a lot and I regret to this day how I was mean to my sister.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXJSiQB5O2Rlb971onrhXpCCjAYG_EVlyjmTTPxy0moOvPJj5xGA216BNupuDae7khWIPyBmmTKesz7XMOd2iuNacMv0yJhSbDGGrsw2hM-uhmuN1GcxOj6r43T-K_gT57uJq4GlK7MHJG/s1600/Danette%252C+Lisa%252C+Jenny+with+Santa.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/AVvXsEjXJSiQB5O2Rlb971onrhXpCCjAYG_EVlyjmTTPxy0moOvPJj5xGA216BNupuDae7khWIPyBmmTKesz7XMOd2iuNacMv0yJhSbDGGrsw2hM-uhmuN1GcxOj6r43T-K_gT57uJq4GlK7MHJG/s200/Danette%252C+Lisa%252C+Jenny+with+Santa.jpg" width="136" /></a></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0BX1EvDIWT5yI1n46xqB1LRALG4k37RtzQWi_hiWvS_1IKc_z0PFDCsjXMZFipQBpLhpTUNdVpnfrqiwDTL91sftOi-oPVeQ-ex9qQwxrJCRlk4Mu5PtLEruXVPtIrgGPZmR3lU5ACh3p/s1600/sixth+grade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0BX1EvDIWT5yI1n46xqB1LRALG4k37RtzQWi_hiWvS_1IKc_z0PFDCsjXMZFipQBpLhpTUNdVpnfrqiwDTL91sftOi-oPVeQ-ex9qQwxrJCRlk4Mu5PtLEruXVPtIrgGPZmR3lU5ACh3p/s200/sixth+grade.jpg" width="181" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvFoa9JGSHfdMeRYQHFUdIJbbdBNTuzmypAGd8-eyFZZDLpPUH9SsYt9JKjLdxWq4-xNeuMsqnjSFrBCZj_Xd-tll6QXfIfl_3Z_p56vi2-8GYv4TxQp0Et2QvUOa_vEHnbNrnaOjUaUfn/s1600/5th+grade.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvFoa9JGSHfdMeRYQHFUdIJbbdBNTuzmypAGd8-eyFZZDLpPUH9SsYt9JKjLdxWq4-xNeuMsqnjSFrBCZj_Xd-tll6QXfIfl_3Z_p56vi2-8GYv4TxQp0Et2QvUOa_vEHnbNrnaOjUaUfn/s200/5th+grade.JPG" width="142" /></a></div><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zsscf73_vmOQxBSc8atyDUCn_N0_eLxSWlnAdmBZFHw3qh2c38__cJZhw4puESVl2HRNYPIDRIvKDaRFqj8dCyUGA_Njl4E3UJb5z1Sq8Clb5XKdDut1CBRAqDZ4b5bUDDskUV9cEcW6/s1600/ernie+lake+tahoe+%252785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5zsscf73_vmOQxBSc8atyDUCn_N0_eLxSWlnAdmBZFHw3qh2c38__cJZhw4puESVl2HRNYPIDRIvKDaRFqj8dCyUGA_Njl4E3UJb5z1Sq8Clb5XKdDut1CBRAqDZ4b5bUDDskUV9cEcW6/s200/ernie+lake+tahoe+%252785.jpg" width="195" /></a>My dad picked us up for every other weekend. He did as well as he could, he showed up for us. In their 16 year marriage he was a homicide and narcotics detective in East LA. An intense job, and those guys partied pretty hard to relieve the stress. When my mom left to find herself and seek a happier life, he was suffering. He remarried quickly to another sheriff woman who felt envious of his great love for his daughters. It only lasted for seven years, but that was a hard time of life for all of us. My father later referred to that time as his darkest seven years. They were mine too. <br />
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My mom was working two or three jobs to make ends meet. At home I was a gloomy teenager who blamed her for the divorce. I was often not helpful and disobeyed. <br />
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Not long ago, when I was remembering those years with my mom. I said I felt so sorry how I was. I would even endure puberty again if I could do that part over. She said she didn't remember that I was bad, she remembered that I was sad.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49tbmPeZpsT6zI46BzHE8mQWGz7_VnPHMHndjQXlhG6wRpRfdzn2E5GrJrghnNCRRU7G_lggoIH26UfA-h8gwZWAjaE4npVB8QtgcDxDoVPjVdCRrwC8YMWNEPoWJnpKuq5wmtsVARkcQ/s1600/mom+close.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="170" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49tbmPeZpsT6zI46BzHE8mQWGz7_VnPHMHndjQXlhG6wRpRfdzn2E5GrJrghnNCRRU7G_lggoIH26UfA-h8gwZWAjaE4npVB8QtgcDxDoVPjVdCRrwC8YMWNEPoWJnpKuq5wmtsVARkcQ/s200/mom+close.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My mom Carol during my teenage years</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vypfmcpGMBN_WZUC6QpDkJpuBwhUi5CDODP52q_k7GdsCYL8sl9TzmYOkD7tFlyWsplR0KTkbZuFaixeF4aCcdQ4sa_7VcM-aPGv5WJ8PnKtqUv9oljFGN_pkcgRXwy35215j-ZxiQoW/s1600/track.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vypfmcpGMBN_WZUC6QpDkJpuBwhUi5CDODP52q_k7GdsCYL8sl9TzmYOkD7tFlyWsplR0KTkbZuFaixeF4aCcdQ4sa_7VcM-aPGv5WJ8PnKtqUv9oljFGN_pkcgRXwy35215j-ZxiQoW/s200/track.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Jr. high and high school were not my finest years, but<br />
there were two very bright spots, music and sports. I found out I could run and high jump, so I did that. My dad drove far to my track meets to cheer me on. I was also on a softball team that went to the championship. I was just an okay player, but while daydreaming in center field a game winning home run hit came right to me. I froze, but held out my shaking glove. The ball plopped in, and we won the championship. They hoisted me up and I cried happy tears. I couldn't believe it. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYrQUajenO2CU93GUwDIPRDYVPuApRh7DNmPooucwzVCPkTqutko7gYcMW-Emr5b7VPCA0zQ7QNidFDqskgv_SoPL_Q_5JdheW6CRt9MVW1nvrhNN9kymR49618RVBUXpTyTkC-qd_yXX/s1600/Lisaguitar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYrQUajenO2CU93GUwDIPRDYVPuApRh7DNmPooucwzVCPkTqutko7gYcMW-Emr5b7VPCA0zQ7QNidFDqskgv_SoPL_Q_5JdheW6CRt9MVW1nvrhNN9kymR49618RVBUXpTyTkC-qd_yXX/s200/Lisaguitar.jpg" width="162" /></a></div>And of course there was always music. It was the ongoing soundtrack of my life which I buried myself in. At every age I was consumed with albums of the time, pop music, rock music, even classical and Latin music. Every night I spent holding my transistor radio to my ear under the covers and listening for hours to AM pop radio of the 70's. I made up shows with the kids I babysat. We pretended to be in bands like the Partridge family with big adventures. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPgyvZQFmC6acA9VuVXZYyIqzAW4spxqmdRwZDvDDxUQ4X4Pn9Y7fEFDLom1diVQcKjDkNJBPctu8eomgqr9sHHqj6zF4XlcsZQ1flItiQ3_o0GA7mKlvxN3rb55Fr1bkVhmkkCAz7tFvL/s1600/trio+sing.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/AVvXsEhPgyvZQFmC6acA9VuVXZYyIqzAW4spxqmdRwZDvDDxUQ4X4Pn9Y7fEFDLom1diVQcKjDkNJBPctu8eomgqr9sHHqj6zF4XlcsZQ1flItiQ3_o0GA7mKlvxN3rb55Fr1bkVhmkkCAz7tFvL/s1600/trio+sing.jpg" /></a></div><br />
In high school I met two singing sisters. They had sweet harmony voices so we sang songs of of my favorite groups. This was the beginning of my soul waking up. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl77Xg1OYjZTahhzmnqSvicF6D73Lj0Oc6mBOXTLqwhsCmuI05QcIVpWy31yhorQhMDsSjzXgUPLHyEASi0oiNLvLAjw7fmQax04lHOkq9x0Cjxo9LsgJgQ_cKxmp0f0eRigW4JtrhqOtI/s1600/graduate.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="165" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl77Xg1OYjZTahhzmnqSvicF6D73Lj0Oc6mBOXTLqwhsCmuI05QcIVpWy31yhorQhMDsSjzXgUPLHyEASi0oiNLvLAjw7fmQax04lHOkq9x0Cjxo9LsgJgQ_cKxmp0f0eRigW4JtrhqOtI/s200/graduate.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Things got better. We moved from a tough Jr. High school in Long Beach to Huntington where I spent my teenage years. I spent high school being shy and quiet, but finally found friends with some fellow misfit musicians. I moved out of my moms apartment at 16 and started playing electric guitar and bass in garage bands. I always had a part time job and did well wherever I worked. I was good at creative writing in school. I graduated Marina high school in 1981.<br />
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During that time I also experienced an awakening of sort. I was given a simple book about meditation so I tried deep breathing and relaxing my head and stomach. I stopped being so worried all the time and realized that I could choose to be happy and be relaxed about things. Like a veil was lifted, it happened very swiftly. I started again to understand how lucky I was. I went back into a place of thankfulness. Like how I felt as a girl, and I've been there ever since.<br />
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I loved getting dressed up with my friend and playing our original mandolin music at Renaissance fairs. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CFaeHSjnL-c2NiQBgoGua6HND1c0ur0hb-gEKGconUQCAopB3BWa1DMj6HhHBoNwnMHSnJfqeSsg7IAVS-RJTgMb4yBzUBis1lVIVBARwH4Z7MiTE6wLtKTDEU0a9QJ7vc7R3FnMDbcj/s1600/Lisa%252BSheri%252BRen%252BFaire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="137" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9CFaeHSjnL-c2NiQBgoGua6HND1c0ur0hb-gEKGconUQCAopB3BWa1DMj6HhHBoNwnMHSnJfqeSsg7IAVS-RJTgMb4yBzUBis1lVIVBARwH4Z7MiTE6wLtKTDEU0a9QJ7vc7R3FnMDbcj/s200/Lisa%252BSheri%252BRen%252BFaire.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgke6bj_OBS81vOZfn1a-vDmwqpJm0o-3fi_jfnrN0OKa0ce7RvwJ3BXRPIfPCjQHE8dJv_KMtH0ZiImpIRVO3JYPar1Xdf5fzDaAFk15z4GvKmAf1ROTHchnczdnSCsiBSx6RY2NJGOial/s1600/Lisa+in+concert-harp-sun+shot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgke6bj_OBS81vOZfn1a-vDmwqpJm0o-3fi_jfnrN0OKa0ce7RvwJ3BXRPIfPCjQHE8dJv_KMtH0ZiImpIRVO3JYPar1Xdf5fzDaAFk15z4GvKmAf1ROTHchnczdnSCsiBSx6RY2NJGOial/s200/Lisa+in+concert-harp-sun+shot.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BuZpAqSgiheGgYFFWKgzwpCG-Y6-5dx2KhLdUkk7oT8qIyNI2R7Yy3Uz9NQzjZo-txVPhibGnJi0kgc_O5edRdrbETELhco4HeYbHj2PRQb33d4jhQG1EhZrqhbLfFuOQycDwnG6RbaZ/s1600/riipshaa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="159" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2BuZpAqSgiheGgYFFWKgzwpCG-Y6-5dx2KhLdUkk7oT8qIyNI2R7Yy3Uz9NQzjZo-txVPhibGnJi0kgc_O5edRdrbETELhco4HeYbHj2PRQb33d4jhQG1EhZrqhbLfFuOQycDwnG6RbaZ/s200/riipshaa.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
It was at the Renaissance fair in Agoura, California that I first discovered the Celtic Harp in a booth selling harps. I sat down at it and felt the most familiar thing I had ever felt. I could play all the chords I knew on guitar. It took me a year to save up $700.00 for my first harp. It was 1985. I was totally in love with the harp. My heart and hands felt on fire when I played.<br />
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From around 18-20 years old, I was working in retail at a record store. I was the youngest assistant manager in the chain. I had headaches often, and a hurting stomach when I took aspirin. One day it was unbearable so I went to a hospital. It was a perforated ulcer that tore a whole wall of my stomach. I had emergency surgery that saved my life. I had to lay flat for three months to heal. I still have a long scar from it.Thankfully, I had always paid my health insurance. <br />
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Not long after I turned 21, I was willingly drafted into playing bass for an all female classic rock/blues band that had steady gigs at biker bars and military basses. I joined and played full time with them 3-5 nights a week for the next eight years. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8D1DdzQ4nQBZxk_2D8TvL6uM_s6m8l1BA_J7_tCcd_cPnrn03cTN-u2WUh9F0sXL7TzDnWK0Ql7cNoOw5hcAQSu6n_HXCXBDcbUGfIHY7QMq01XOfzD5HpvGlKACaCGeSe61wAx2_0TV/s1600/riipshaa+b%2526w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="135" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX8D1DdzQ4nQBZxk_2D8TvL6uM_s6m8l1BA_J7_tCcd_cPnrn03cTN-u2WUh9F0sXL7TzDnWK0Ql7cNoOw5hcAQSu6n_HXCXBDcbUGfIHY7QMq01XOfzD5HpvGlKACaCGeSe61wAx2_0TV/s200/riipshaa+b%2526w.jpg" width="200" /></a>I also worked as a food waitress in the daytime and went part time to Jr. college for music. I traveled to Greenland and Alaska on long tours playing top 40 music for dance clubs. I also played in a popular original band of all guys that played heavy metal in clubs around Orange country. I brought my harp everywhere and even on the hard rock stage to see if the rocker kids would like it, and they did.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZipL4jo6goiU2A2SFMV7cfF5DfWfRoKoLXuEfxFVxfMX1uFwQHaSK9sHInP0QeqwG9QifH6vwgs0AT_T0-roVL7OR14VqwQThsVTwO1ZOhLaRXgQg2OrskWohzZ8DIQKELw_juABsRDrw/s1600/LisaGrenland.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="140" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZipL4jo6goiU2A2SFMV7cfF5DfWfRoKoLXuEfxFVxfMX1uFwQHaSK9sHInP0QeqwG9QifH6vwgs0AT_T0-roVL7OR14VqwQThsVTwO1ZOhLaRXgQg2OrskWohzZ8DIQKELw_juABsRDrw/s200/LisaGrenland.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Exploring Greenland</td></tr>
</tbody></table> The traveling I was doing was not glamorous. It was playing bass doing Top 40 music six sets a night, six nights a week in various dance clubs or military bases. <br />
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During the daytime I would go off exploring various things to see. I always took my harp on the road with me too. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWtJXGlQ6SF7U4Cjsu-xhQd7OJIy_Mur09Q0KavzIS1pR8-eA1LbLymG9o9SNsnEcGvkwubtiT9MG9zxfoqgkJzZKkDd3GPw7a81eqtzP4tOZwoxyPpZ1Aknls2UnkwOLozPKXmybQb3f/s1600/Lisa+in+field.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="146" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWtJXGlQ6SF7U4Cjsu-xhQd7OJIy_Mur09Q0KavzIS1pR8-eA1LbLymG9o9SNsnEcGvkwubtiT9MG9zxfoqgkJzZKkDd3GPw7a81eqtzP4tOZwoxyPpZ1Aknls2UnkwOLozPKXmybQb3f/s200/Lisa+in+field.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>When I was not traveling I was playing harp at restaurants, for weddings, and any kind of job I could find. I was determined to save enough money to go to Musicians Institute in Hollywood. It was my dream to study there and it took me a quite few years and a lot of waitress tips to save the tuition. <br />
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<div style="text-align: right;">The Island of Sitka, Alaska, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The early 80's was a great time for my Dad. He met Margaret, it was true love for real. Margaret was also a single mom working hard to support two daughters of her own. It was true love. Soulmates. They married in 1985. Margaret was a happy addition to our family and uncountable good times were had. So I had yet another mother to love too! She made my dad so happy, and that made us happy too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4F3belBlax1GxTF0sp_naahb3oade3OtwkgmQDQFpbsP8-h3SWdVKWXRACzr1J-8q5zwF98_UevFCq77EqwQDmaRHuAed9cDEieNrDV7NDB0z1WZDJYUNpYe83PsompCZJ1qUtRXY-dSV/s1600/Margaret+and+Dad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4F3belBlax1GxTF0sp_naahb3oade3OtwkgmQDQFpbsP8-h3SWdVKWXRACzr1J-8q5zwF98_UevFCq77EqwQDmaRHuAed9cDEieNrDV7NDB0z1WZDJYUNpYe83PsompCZJ1qUtRXY-dSV/s200/Margaret+and+Dad.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I was always very close to both of my grandmothers, and was so lucky to have them well into my adult years. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEchmeUNd7PBovyMBbTm8n3zbhUlFB49YSlPgAcVpisVBa6P-r2B7AlR1rmrlXdbZRgAdQyq7RgWmaZRTCE2I4xHImkd5PM_DXIdC3-IjYnbEQOeFn0Iy2f-WAnQ6AWnoWkcyMZBn4y6E/s1600/me+and+nana.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWEchmeUNd7PBovyMBbTm8n3zbhUlFB49YSlPgAcVpisVBa6P-r2B7AlR1rmrlXdbZRgAdQyq7RgWmaZRTCE2I4xHImkd5PM_DXIdC3-IjYnbEQOeFn0Iy2f-WAnQ6AWnoWkcyMZBn4y6E/s200/me+and+nana.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
My fathers mother Adelina Franco was a traditional Mexican grandmother. She adored all of her children and grandchildren, of which there were many.<br />
I visited and stayed with her often especially in the later years of her life. She was always blessing, and kissing and praying. She enjoyed her Spanish soap operas and nobody could come close to her cooking, as much as we tried. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJXKY1jXf3pJg1fH-ImQ4jMUhQiKmsEUcmmapSgF0aEOtDqAnZnAh55Kpo_eV065f4-NHwedcdmLz601g7auEdYq9CksP_LLJiGy8Nn6gJ0C2FRNYIOGFZWYa-tnHPLf5lDfHhRU4hXrE/s1600/gma48.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQJXKY1jXf3pJg1fH-ImQ4jMUhQiKmsEUcmmapSgF0aEOtDqAnZnAh55Kpo_eV065f4-NHwedcdmLz601g7auEdYq9CksP_LLJiGy8Nn6gJ0C2FRNYIOGFZWYa-tnHPLf5lDfHhRU4hXrE/s200/gma48.jpg" width="170" /></a></div>Margaret Hughes was my mothers mother, she was a world traveler and we went on many trips to Mexico together. Her favorite place was Mazatlan.<br />
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Even though I had so much love in my family, I always wanted find to find my birth mother to let her know, if she ever wondered or worried what became of me, that I had a good life, and I always understood she did a great and selfless thing for me. At first, it was going to try right when I was 18, then 21 and each time, I put it off, thinking that I wanted to be far in my music career so she would be very proud of me. <br />
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But the years went by, and I was a struggling musician for a really long time. I always thought it would cost a lot of money to find her. But I was finally well at least with supporting myself with music. So I took the first step by at least writing to the original adoption agency.<br />
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It took over a year for them to pull my file. They could not release names but they could release some general info. So a big envelope came, and it was so big to me that I would know something. It took me days until I could even open it. This was what was inside.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBC18Uonk6DJnD1Ob77LGXqNuMY4oPgn21hRJ6RpnMoqANxPrX-yk-kJvwQJtJEk2fDFTFUw4xAgyN7u0XrqDZ-3GOmrbIo6XPuxxFSJJdjsRDtRZuoOz4GXppqrkAdW1AySdKKUERGE1/s1600/circumstances.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="377" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFBC18Uonk6DJnD1Ob77LGXqNuMY4oPgn21hRJ6RpnMoqANxPrX-yk-kJvwQJtJEk2fDFTFUw4xAgyN7u0XrqDZ-3GOmrbIo6XPuxxFSJJdjsRDtRZuoOz4GXppqrkAdW1AySdKKUERGE1/s640/circumstances.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
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It went on to say that the birth mother was 24, her height and weight, and her special interests were music, dancing and all sports. She had a brother who was 16, her mother was a seamstress who was separated from her father.<br />
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It said the birth father was Polish, born in New Jersey, 23 years old. 6.1 with hazel eyes, black hair and fair complexion. He was a recruiting soldier in the marines who enjoyed fishing and hunting. They were engaged, but she broke up with him and opted not to tell him of the pregnancy. So he never knew I was born. <br />
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I remember reading these papers over and over a thousand times. The adoption lady said even though I could not contact, I could put something in my file, and my birth mother was free to check the file if she ever wanted, so I wrote her a letter. <br />
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End of part two. <br />
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<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-three.html">Here is part three</a><br />
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<span id="goog_1946714148"></span><span id="goog_1946714149"></span></div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-23934756770007670192011-05-09T22:52:00.000-07:002011-05-09T22:52:40.064-07:00Vblog #35 - My presentation at Society of Arts in Healthcare<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/svoLWkwo0z0" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
This event meant a lot to me, as these brilliant people attending were from all corners of the globe. They were doers of good, creators of excellence, specializing in the finding and creating ways to implement arts and music in the healthcare field. I tried to edit down to a manageable size, but my editing got sloppy and I was too tired of it to fix it, so I'll hope you don't mind. I was working a slide show from my laptop on the screen, but for this I just inserted the same pictures. At the end of this presentation, there was a standing ovation, my favorite part is the very end after the websites, the moment she says.. "enjoy your lunch". </div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-51453793926330868292011-05-05T20:02:00.000-07:002011-07-23T08:47:26.468-07:00Lisa Lynne Adoption Story - Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
This is a really big for me. I am learning things that have been a mystery for my life. This story is meant for my biological mother or father, or any of their relations I may find.<br />
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This account is also for my wonderful family and friends who are so excited about this. They are all so supportive and anxious for updates. This is a way I can tell them all at once. It also helps me to write this as I go. Most importantly, its for my biological mother. If she needs time, or doesn't wish to meet me, maybe she can at least get my message from this.<br />
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My primary reason for finding her has been the same all my life. I want her to know that her decision turned out as she would have hoped. I've had a happy life, I became an artist, a music maker.<br />
Most importantly, I have always thought of her with so much love and reverence for the brave decision she made so long ago.<br />
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I want her to know if she has ever thought of me, maybe she thinks, today I am 10, or 18, 21, or 30. I was also thinking of her and so grateful for my life that she gave. I have imagined all the possibilities and I know that anything can happen. Or not happen. I have learned much in the past few weeks, and I'll share that as I go. It seems like its really going to happen. I'm working with an adoption specialist who is wonderful, leading me through all the steps. My heart pounds when he gives me updates on the phone. <br />
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So thank you for being with me for this. As soon as I get some of this background written, I will be writing in real time. It’s all happening much faster than I thought it would, so I’m scrambling to catch up. So here goes.<br />
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I always knew I was adopted. As long as I can remember my mom would tell me the story like a fairy tale with a happy ending. The year before adopting me, they lost a baby born premature. As my story was told to me, a mom and dad were sad because they lost their baby boy. They prayed for another baby and God gave them his smallest angel, and that was me, and I made them happy again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjx33x2t1ykj8CfFhIeIIOtFiOLanSdW3mqFepOoI0fgSdnLhOpChYysOL9lDWWze38fPcxiDw-61ZRNLNS0TaderXGxybpqKMxnvfZA2BYfNnkxHZ-JMCduf9ljsk9hW3Z1F4GUwMwW9/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+20+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGjx33x2t1ykj8CfFhIeIIOtFiOLanSdW3mqFepOoI0fgSdnLhOpChYysOL9lDWWze38fPcxiDw-61ZRNLNS0TaderXGxybpqKMxnvfZA2BYfNnkxHZ-JMCduf9ljsk9hW3Z1F4GUwMwW9/s200/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+20+1.jpg" width="151" /></a></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFb9MdN1GuTynAmb4pGJce4TjBkCY8i6FL0icbzhdCkilBatcNNnIULCl8jNIzUV7ZLg92vdh-obuXnNiZWW7TdVaQeg5WGgY3L1RYVxTAxPKBWI-pm-1zjOcizftPl1QDYxsd2cpkmhKh/s1600/Ernie+LASD+Grad+%252762.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/AVvXsEjFb9MdN1GuTynAmb4pGJce4TjBkCY8i6FL0icbzhdCkilBatcNNnIULCl8jNIzUV7ZLg92vdh-obuXnNiZWW7TdVaQeg5WGgY3L1RYVxTAxPKBWI-pm-1zjOcizftPl1QDYxsd2cpkmhKh/s200/Ernie+LASD+Grad+%252762.jpg" width="117" /></a>My adoptive father Florencio Ernesto Franco was a sheriff in East LA. My mother Carol Lee Franco was a homemaker. Like many people in that era, they met in high school, were engaged and then married after his time in the service.<br />
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This is the only time I will call them “adoptive” because they are my mom and dad, so I'll refer to them as that. For the woman I hope to find, I will call her “biological” mother. Florencio and Carol Franco took me home just weeks after my birth, and named me Lisa Lynne Franco.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIcyOam68lsK02igda7iRfVKrfCJ0ukpnAZAwnt45aBPZxUkoUW0lWvHQHwPJmW_uYICTdpO0NpsfZtobpjn7Er-IG0neCuPIfHkFESFe2OAy81ruX4Czrsw0rIuBMoV8VXVg1h3XXj0DU/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+photo+1+1.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/AVvXsEiIcyOam68lsK02igda7iRfVKrfCJ0ukpnAZAwnt45aBPZxUkoUW0lWvHQHwPJmW_uYICTdpO0NpsfZtobpjn7Er-IG0neCuPIfHkFESFe2OAy81ruX4Czrsw0rIuBMoV8VXVg1h3XXj0DU/s200/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+photo+1+1.jpg" width="122" /></a> My mom speaks of they day they brought me home as if it was yesterday. It was a full year after applying to adopt. There were many interviews and a lot of hoping and waiting. They finally got the news that there was a little girl who was here and she would be theirs. My mom said they were taking me home for the first time and she could not believe the length of my eyelashes. My dad had to keep pulling over the car so they could look at me. <br />
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We went straight to the home of my dad’s parents. My Nana and Tata, where there was a party for me! I had many aunts and uncles, lots of cousins, I could feel how happy everyone was. <br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF3csH_fKuEi94O2Avj4At2ahTRujJmntFerEqXWX_4jOwkHZVH_YPVMVoYKH7rDDSlQS6F3bIY2XkUF9ddbXqojUIzFEuTV3popoxHmkl4xqcczgM3ji5dB4N5nuqxuEWjvvLPlz_iPuC/s1600/TATA%2526N%257E2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF3csH_fKuEi94O2Avj4At2ahTRujJmntFerEqXWX_4jOwkHZVH_YPVMVoYKH7rDDSlQS6F3bIY2XkUF9ddbXqojUIzFEuTV3popoxHmkl4xqcczgM3ji5dB4N5nuqxuEWjvvLPlz_iPuC/s200/TATA%2526N%257E2.JPG" width="133" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adelina and Florencio Sr. </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>This might be hard to believe, but I'm certain I remember that day. Just brief moments, images, and smells. I was wrapped in a blanket and facing the ceiling. I remember the lamps from the ceiling, I remember being passed around from arms to arms, big giant smiley faces peering at me, kisses from sweaty happy kids on my forehead.The smell of home cooking and sound of my Nana’s voice singing my name.. There was mariachi music on the radio. I know I remember this, and I remember having a very conscious thought.<br />
This is going to be just fine...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRmAJ7xAAKZUMLuFOTgq4_HuMcNymiCP2_v__OT1pknuim5jKlVMSXY2g28IauvmFy2oFkDraRjiBTNxumUh6VY8B4UlhnhqYM9xSauGg8r0vcKLb8ZbhjM_Pa_svTNIhc2-SXZNb13ZI/s1600/Lisa+%2526+Craig.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="163" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeRmAJ7xAAKZUMLuFOTgq4_HuMcNymiCP2_v__OT1pknuim5jKlVMSXY2g28IauvmFy2oFkDraRjiBTNxumUh6VY8B4UlhnhqYM9xSauGg8r0vcKLb8ZbhjM_Pa_svTNIhc2-SXZNb13ZI/s200/Lisa+%2526+Craig.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7olT54sf63DbiSKT9JiqTJBKCAiNhxC5i_JIm0F5TMIaYGf-1-Z_zEbxhXHLjqfwTffTaorpbARGmIHharfTGfsb7t1tDqsSQpNTTg68QmgxiVV03xb9kAXdfzWfqTS_uiQScougrZNO5/s1600/Lisa-1+yr..jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7olT54sf63DbiSKT9JiqTJBKCAiNhxC5i_JIm0F5TMIaYGf-1-Z_zEbxhXHLjqfwTffTaorpbARGmIHharfTGfsb7t1tDqsSQpNTTg68QmgxiVV03xb9kAXdfzWfqTS_uiQScougrZNO5/s1600/Lisa-1+yr..jpg" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QQ3MXPWfVI98vER6Udeg5TmjKgjUeAjfvMC7wMm0EPAtMYLRp0EY_i2zLh9YEjrt-kcwnHuh2vXfUhsY_RzoT2ZfKpDIwRVa18GMtEL5x_vpe4xtkiZbuLYea2h2tQVUBaulzc5fJ0yW/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+3+1.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/AVvXsEh3QQ3MXPWfVI98vER6Udeg5TmjKgjUeAjfvMC7wMm0EPAtMYLRp0EY_i2zLh9YEjrt-kcwnHuh2vXfUhsY_RzoT2ZfKpDIwRVa18GMtEL5x_vpe4xtkiZbuLYea2h2tQVUBaulzc5fJ0yW/s200/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+3+1.jpg" width="136" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeVe7i2s9OSE4GBVo048xW6g4oU84hAOOZJXBDZR1LPLq0k2ni2OEaTuKEK4CTazdr7Xh_V9yekSD4wp4XlBBAnx7rpQ7qevSCyFHRBq4JEKvrPOYN4Jce3ACYzi5FE7E9L7ldtSuChNg/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+16+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeVe7i2s9OSE4GBVo048xW6g4oU84hAOOZJXBDZR1LPLq0k2ni2OEaTuKEK4CTazdr7Xh_V9yekSD4wp4XlBBAnx7rpQ7qevSCyFHRBq4JEKvrPOYN4Jce3ACYzi5FE7E9L7ldtSuChNg/s200/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+16+1.jpg" width="194" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQwqEG1eXqiH_V7DClcStKK3ttHcjVVDvF57qtPjBCiEAVA1M0ENDj2BkRDCSuV-EFCKCMJun-6WRyB2iBNPUalFpHkn7mCOnLeIbp9rI6v_qUSMcs_VWF56QpvjK8TzfeFTp1EaKjetx/s1600/LISA-6%257E1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQwqEG1eXqiH_V7DClcStKK3ttHcjVVDvF57qtPjBCiEAVA1M0ENDj2BkRDCSuV-EFCKCMJun-6WRyB2iBNPUalFpHkn7mCOnLeIbp9rI6v_qUSMcs_VWF56QpvjK8TzfeFTp1EaKjetx/s200/LISA-6%257E1.JPG" width="160" /></a></div><br />
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I grew up in Southern California around Whittier and Diamond Bar. It was a middle class upbringing and a lot of fun and celebrations.<br />
<table align="center" 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/AVvXsEibHg5wUJWjIY1LY7fLtn3M2wSuaDWX6ftjZQewGMqlDgbdgHiEu7QPsrFBlKAUoxbVHpezh19iLyCT0O_S95efz8LlWi03B3uLUwjRJ9VdSJ4r5JhVsvpGQ_YTmNtnaQQCBGbchrW3R3mL/s1600/dog+named+pokey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibHg5wUJWjIY1LY7fLtn3M2wSuaDWX6ftjZQewGMqlDgbdgHiEu7QPsrFBlKAUoxbVHpezh19iLyCT0O_S95efz8LlWi03B3uLUwjRJ9VdSJ4r5JhVsvpGQ_YTmNtnaQQCBGbchrW3R3mL/s200/dog+named+pokey.jpg" width="200" /> </a></td><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My dog Pokey</td></tr>
</tbody></table>I loved sleepovers with my cousins playing endless board games, riding bikes, putting on shows. We dressed up for Sundays with homemade Mexican food, always a birthday or new baby, and music. <br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZIGzq9v88GGcCRqdGbwuwvT9cnHLBcaBhfdAAUNFWoPl7ORTQaC0hRKAGfNjnbEC8Ty03k4wsiCES6FhVpepNFVys0fyl6iNq02kg8sMi-aRe6k_sRPND_l0Gej9VQ0xnu8aYNwrgkljF/s1600/water+sports.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZIGzq9v88GGcCRqdGbwuwvT9cnHLBcaBhfdAAUNFWoPl7ORTQaC0hRKAGfNjnbEC8Ty03k4wsiCES6FhVpepNFVys0fyl6iNq02kg8sMi-aRe6k_sRPND_l0Gej9VQ0xnu8aYNwrgkljF/s320/water+sports.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Water sports</td></tr>
</tbody></table> <br />
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When I was five my little sister Jenny came along, born in the usual way.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was a surprise to everyone!</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_hHb3QVXzNF3vgOdJpBPKIgmVRCW3MTnBsQv2hK2-j63f1T4zmGjxnhtdsMbqO3pAfPHkWmjTEJRQciLJzp8ZBmm8Kx-nh25eGTOexLtqAXSacv4eRsOXf9OUeKkF-qAHnfAxt0xfH2c/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+8+1+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO_hHb3QVXzNF3vgOdJpBPKIgmVRCW3MTnBsQv2hK2-j63f1T4zmGjxnhtdsMbqO3pAfPHkWmjTEJRQciLJzp8ZBmm8Kx-nh25eGTOexLtqAXSacv4eRsOXf9OUeKkF-qAHnfAxt0xfH2c/s400/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+8+1+3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Me on the left, - hmmm... not so sure about this. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Phl3zLkjuOZgEr9nVF6dGhSVLta24C0auq41wM9kkmjg-wEDk004UUBetBopI47om1PtHLDgJene_hksDRmO5QQPGVNl89saIB9rSwipqqYx93z8EJ5f7XxyZ_NJPJR_0E8XbzVnL2h5/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+11+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0Phl3zLkjuOZgEr9nVF6dGhSVLta24C0auq41wM9kkmjg-wEDk004UUBetBopI47om1PtHLDgJene_hksDRmO5QQPGVNl89saIB9rSwipqqYx93z8EJ5f7XxyZ_NJPJR_0E8XbzVnL2h5/s320/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+11+1.jpg" width="312" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqeQU1w54ce_SgApp1EUDfrdtQqcTvdtqny-DUKIZu6z3Cqi1QroXqGjt_IdwW3LTKJlsp0G-AF7SaejkxXoECIY3VugyF_pDo1L9lYbLjmLKIEjPf3v6QtSoYDZmcP-KAVNLXhQd4jfrN/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+10+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqeQU1w54ce_SgApp1EUDfrdtQqcTvdtqny-DUKIZu6z3Cqi1QroXqGjt_IdwW3LTKJlsp0G-AF7SaejkxXoECIY3VugyF_pDo1L9lYbLjmLKIEjPf3v6QtSoYDZmcP-KAVNLXhQd4jfrN/s320/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+10+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Well.... I guess its okay.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2vN244qUsMQ0spTv_oeeaEPgZIJLeAT_wzm0rGbMSdmCu5LZjCYcgMRF2sQQDs1wxj05bzWgOsctdL7iU7MUqF_AmDVO2YaE4uENkthf3x9LctobKYIp8Arcrpz2cSwQcugN7qPuPPgX/s1600/baptism.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf2vN244qUsMQ0spTv_oeeaEPgZIJLeAT_wzm0rGbMSdmCu5LZjCYcgMRF2sQQDs1wxj05bzWgOsctdL7iU7MUqF_AmDVO2YaE4uENkthf3x9LctobKYIp8Arcrpz2cSwQcugN7qPuPPgX/s320/baptism.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"> Baptisms, first communions..</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhImWXPaz7qz4rEDDyT3F1LvOdf3t15hkpLocyLZis_EZSfYvHboh8SiHVAG3sVMQcB-ifh15Clt0Grf6YRvnDsPOz5zCP-jBOVNr9bOaeW-VbGCVmygON93gi32tsNfYiUugtgBiuEfkni/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+14+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhImWXPaz7qz4rEDDyT3F1LvOdf3t15hkpLocyLZis_EZSfYvHboh8SiHVAG3sVMQcB-ifh15Clt0Grf6YRvnDsPOz5zCP-jBOVNr9bOaeW-VbGCVmygON93gi32tsNfYiUugtgBiuEfkni/s320/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+14+1.jpg" width="320" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Bubble baths </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiA5EUZGTsH0O0Q82DDed5uqQIdTImx-d6epmNe6NY_PyFjVOXCJ_Za0qmpY_Yv9lDHjsgz2tvu6RkBcrR7Kn1Puwj7K0YYDafFJ9m5CvJ2EQXeatvi42bDIy910X4-W9QpaES0hdaYrq2/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+18+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiA5EUZGTsH0O0Q82DDed5uqQIdTImx-d6epmNe6NY_PyFjVOXCJ_Za0qmpY_Yv9lDHjsgz2tvu6RkBcrR7Kn1Puwj7K0YYDafFJ9m5CvJ2EQXeatvi42bDIy910X4-W9QpaES0hdaYrq2/s320/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+18+1.jpg" width="250" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAqQrmCk7g3fwGInkq5XwSPY9oT4zUMmmtgEzWp6_jwf2BT7cX8n7syuD1ogoWCa07e-WWCsBx5yAiMQHRvmYU0Ac5DiDHum9vdavD16ryWHEsjgW4Ucv4gCbTL96wkSaHo5aeT11yM5x/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+17+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAqQrmCk7g3fwGInkq5XwSPY9oT4zUMmmtgEzWp6_jwf2BT7cX8n7syuD1ogoWCa07e-WWCsBx5yAiMQHRvmYU0Ac5DiDHum9vdavD16ryWHEsjgW4Ucv4gCbTL96wkSaHo5aeT11yM5x/s320/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+17+1.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"> Lot of outdoor adventures </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1bI-LAMlE7w_BkenIbPNwuA7Nk1FotVCk7bybHZ0yXotNaUePvxoA6ERu9tVx2swSCIKZCzXSizlEozRhXxvnFMor4kIrdcCgGIGncFIuzA7fFUui3tIj5B816w_CfB9TNlNRWCey4l4p/s1600/avid+reader.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1bI-LAMlE7w_BkenIbPNwuA7Nk1FotVCk7bybHZ0yXotNaUePvxoA6ERu9tVx2swSCIKZCzXSizlEozRhXxvnFMor4kIrdcCgGIGncFIuzA7fFUui3tIj5B816w_CfB9TNlNRWCey4l4p/s320/avid+reader.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"> An avid reader of fine literature</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXHqFZjqC8YJCHgy3XpyAFY-aCvZCublFAKNrfnpsnTiI8Xl3ESpKIpe8vogxxtM_x_93bp2Ea1xEGDXYLaV-wbSoMbE2ViV1PiZY1a_ueZmdlK-ibnHR7vQwGtsw9K8OAWQoMViJN-Mu/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+13+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxXHqFZjqC8YJCHgy3XpyAFY-aCvZCublFAKNrfnpsnTiI8Xl3ESpKIpe8vogxxtM_x_93bp2Ea1xEGDXYLaV-wbSoMbE2ViV1PiZY1a_ueZmdlK-ibnHR7vQwGtsw9K8OAWQoMViJN-Mu/s320/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+13+1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"> We went camping often. My dad taught me to fish. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I loved fishing with him and would sit patient for hours. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I caught some big fish too and could reel it in myself. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxqGzewrKiOYupMBVgnvWxfw-g0_30qLVvrNQT4w1l9FMki4vfocpoqeG6cjIdQ3GZY87ryfcxVt0e6KwTUoeHp_41xTBvDfchwy06bpAOPgbc5FBPJrY3R9B_47qyxY2iHpuBKFbNgQg/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+4+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPxqGzewrKiOYupMBVgnvWxfw-g0_30qLVvrNQT4w1l9FMki4vfocpoqeG6cjIdQ3GZY87ryfcxVt0e6KwTUoeHp_41xTBvDfchwy06bpAOPgbc5FBPJrY3R9B_47qyxY2iHpuBKFbNgQg/s320/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+4+1.jpg" width="296" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"> We went on summer long trips in our trailer. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">We drove and camped our way to Alaska.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3GzLCPq9Pq2v2vWWUBR8eCt16TbRnjMZ3R8BqeWaLvdZs50NSYlaYZgn2cWAU3cjV6BGDrABUQy2W7jNJcwvUsadC99RFGgvM2v6R-vHKexaN9Gv0pvN-ZW7abwBVD3QKBts2Z7E2MkVA/s1600/first+grage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3GzLCPq9Pq2v2vWWUBR8eCt16TbRnjMZ3R8BqeWaLvdZs50NSYlaYZgn2cWAU3cjV6BGDrABUQy2W7jNJcwvUsadC99RFGgvM2v6R-vHKexaN9Gv0pvN-ZW7abwBVD3QKBts2Z7E2MkVA/s200/first+grage.jpg" width="142" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHujaOJd1srL_tfDytFvckaz8i7GMWgW0Id8PKSR-Qe7nbQQIQ33c_WW9C7fNQXnMzEEN4mQHxnJ29sKj4xybkX4PLJ31TvLOCqHGzd1I8h-p1KR-VztKfRz3fmyVvYCBJ-XHtygBSaOrD/s1600/flip.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHujaOJd1srL_tfDytFvckaz8i7GMWgW0Id8PKSR-Qe7nbQQIQ33c_WW9C7fNQXnMzEEN4mQHxnJ29sKj4xybkX4PLJ31TvLOCqHGzd1I8h-p1KR-VztKfRz3fmyVvYCBJ-XHtygBSaOrD/s320/flip.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Home was fun too. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSbAk_J_nYfc1zO0ct-uBjGoEkqImf7vfJgjmIogO82ZgJt7OT13ZVYXq5SyQiXVLl0PfKCKgwbozgQwkL_nCb-mOLuk-lKyQlxIEPLMP-1Rd1eu4tKSnDj00e8GC0dwQ8TraasBCY5bX/s1600/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+8+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMSbAk_J_nYfc1zO0ct-uBjGoEkqImf7vfJgjmIogO82ZgJt7OT13ZVYXq5SyQiXVLl0PfKCKgwbozgQwkL_nCb-mOLuk-lKyQlxIEPLMP-1Rd1eu4tKSnDj00e8GC0dwQ8TraasBCY5bX/s200/Lisa+Franco+Adoption+8+1.jpg" width="131" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;">Me in 2nd grade. </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRHgbddSqLg0zfqSz4oeZzVNQN_oDIUJPVwK7pmL7NzF-ELb-TnX-V1VkbtcoA2yISHIoVjutgIMpiLTibE2q7XOkV0hSm8xHWikm4KXAx7aa8gYAuEUFXlQbi_qgV-S33gZI50XgMSzY/s1600/bluebirds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqRHgbddSqLg0zfqSz4oeZzVNQN_oDIUJPVwK7pmL7NzF-ELb-TnX-V1VkbtcoA2yISHIoVjutgIMpiLTibE2q7XOkV0hSm8xHWikm4KXAx7aa8gYAuEUFXlQbi_qgV-S33gZI50XgMSzY/s320/bluebirds.jpg" width="306" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I was in bluebirds and campfire girls </span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPXUpFiCWZ57Ne3tYbC1HfZ0JGOnPPfmVqc8kZsjWgMV1cB2G4VlN3HcfvWsZco1Sz7zHoqF7J05jNLXhD_UvGw9TAJvAdXda61e1KMMXbEUJd4v1v0-zPkPqQ5P74rsD4pcfUf5jd9kG/s1600/gma31.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="173" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAPXUpFiCWZ57Ne3tYbC1HfZ0JGOnPPfmVqc8kZsjWgMV1cB2G4VlN3HcfvWsZco1Sz7zHoqF7J05jNLXhD_UvGw9TAJvAdXda61e1KMMXbEUJd4v1v0-zPkPqQ5P74rsD4pcfUf5jd9kG/s200/gma31.jpg" width="200" /></a></div> <span style="font-size: small;">My moms mother Margaret married many times and </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">was a globe trotting adventurous woman.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3hZmPjx9RR4Li3m1WRhFvOjTCOEaJ10mVzBPcYRlFGu5_urFBJz6YuNn4QhXpXobWf8tnRtYcFc8xVk1lF5M8TsHPkjEJd3wnMCMzlWBLcTzJULy9Ful8KZvzBkbf0e1Y2kLUQwgou6v/s1600/gma56.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_3hZmPjx9RR4Li3m1WRhFvOjTCOEaJ10mVzBPcYRlFGu5_urFBJz6YuNn4QhXpXobWf8tnRtYcFc8xVk1lF5M8TsHPkjEJd3wnMCMzlWBLcTzJULy9Ful8KZvzBkbf0e1Y2kLUQwgou6v/s320/gma56.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: small;"> My moms family is also very close. My mom Carol is quite the beauty, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">she is quiet but very funny. She's on the left with the big hair. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Me, the skinniest legs of all. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgl6hXnz-kIUdDiqJ6Qh5sm4vQ9DPoRvrmEj8x7Gj_RlQyhBLjWPzvuo01oJ6dcF2nnq_PeLqf7anpehoTTXSEDQpVBDN78X-izKpDoF90vQewNhV494IcVhcPdXAOFAJ_jtx7k79UmD-/s1600/FEF-LASD.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmgl6hXnz-kIUdDiqJ6Qh5sm4vQ9DPoRvrmEj8x7Gj_RlQyhBLjWPzvuo01oJ6dcF2nnq_PeLqf7anpehoTTXSEDQpVBDN78X-izKpDoF90vQewNhV494IcVhcPdXAOFAJ_jtx7k79UmD-/s200/FEF-LASD.jpg" width="146" /></a></div><br />
My dad worked in the East LA sheriffs station his whole career. He worked undercover for burglary cases, homicide and narcotics. He would sometimes bring me by the station on his day off and we'd have orange soda there. <br />
When he came home from work my sister and I would run to him knowing he would give us a flip in the air and say "va va voom!!" .. and we would say<br />
"do it again dad!!" over and over. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XE-QU1g3v6fI99xYimJZtunTqRUn2U1Uc_qjspafuJd74BOssTwe3-h4R5gaQvhkz_lJ6h2nG9ocjc0h7KVlLabJHFx40rIlU3YgzxM-e0zWFPULVicLfvoRgzujV8aeiavwQBbgen57/s1600/guitar+young.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="141" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XE-QU1g3v6fI99xYimJZtunTqRUn2U1Uc_qjspafuJd74BOssTwe3-h4R5gaQvhkz_lJ6h2nG9ocjc0h7KVlLabJHFx40rIlU3YgzxM-e0zWFPULVicLfvoRgzujV8aeiavwQBbgen57/s200/guitar+young.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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I started playing guitar when I was eight years old. I got pretty good so I got lessons and learned lots of songs. My dad would always ask me to play my songs at our campfires. My mom had read that if you play music for a baby, they will be musical.<br />
So she put music on for me in my crib in hopes that would happen. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMX48xwX8alVjvb2hU_4kAVWbAYtiaC7NNmvxu-FlMZ6zE_v_phZnoAcZrH9EW4IvK-NP70WkBhzZk_F1jjxb3gcbxWjVsI0IZWN26OhIhyphenhyphenOGyQGzJK1ZgxBJHudNv3TmigvCAq15a1Fit/s1600/Ernie+LASD+Grad+%252762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-large;">End of Part 1</span></b></div><br />
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<a href="http://lisalynnefranco.blogspot.com/2011/05/lisa-lynne-adoption-story-part-two.html">Here is part two</a><br />
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</div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-33548500531133240762011-04-04T15:24:00.000-07:002011-04-07T22:17:13.657-07:00A flying harp and musical vist to Cedar Key<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Since my flute partner George lives in Florida, we get to play in some of the most beautiful places in the country. Cedar Key is no exception, and one of George's favorite places. This past weekend was very cool, and I tried to capture images as they happened. I never seem to be able to get much of us playing though.. because we are always playing at that time! But we stayed in some lovely homes and got to see some of the local community. This video starts on the plane, and ends on the plane too! I do all my editing on the ride home. Hope you enjoy! <br />
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</div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-58280277961691681692011-04-01T20:36:00.000-07:002011-04-08T15:30:41.644-07:00The new recording is here...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylABGCEqSoB_UY3F2OSEUu8Uy7KMq-VGbGN_xURd3HUJDNkBSA27hBdFQe3ASTA_a7MIdpgJdjM-Od6R2nCxQJBV00BjRHxxkylZ0txTlajN67p6czbsQ300WDfxBtLRVgnG0mDI8lm-S/s1600/Weaving+Worlds++.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgylABGCEqSoB_UY3F2OSEUu8Uy7KMq-VGbGN_xURd3HUJDNkBSA27hBdFQe3ASTA_a7MIdpgJdjM-Od6R2nCxQJBV00BjRHxxkylZ0txTlajN67p6czbsQ300WDfxBtLRVgnG0mDI8lm-S/s320/Weaving+Worlds++.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">I know when I was growing up, I loved looking at the liner notes of the albums I owned. </span> <br />
<div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;"> Back in those days we had vinyl with big covers filled with artwork and words, and I would study it while listening to the music over and over again like we all did. Those big covers were gold to me. I'd devour every picture and line of Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, YES, Beatles, Carole King, Genesis, to name just a few.. before that it was The Partridge Family, The Osmonds and the Jackson 5. The list goes on and on...</span></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">I always wanted to know what was behind the inspiration of the album and every song.. and I have missed that with artists now. Because of the small CD covers, and more so as people are getting their music by download. So here is my attempt to share a bit more about this recording. </span><br />
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This recording is the second full collaboration of <a href="http://www.lionharp.com/"> Aryeh</a> and myself, and also features another of my favorite musicians in the world <a href="http://www.medicinewind.com/">George Tortorelli</a>. I have been working with Aryeh for about three years now. Our first CD is called <a href="http://www.lisalynne.com/recordings/word_two.html">"Two Worlds One"</a>. We've also appeared on each others separate projects as well. George is my longtime music partner and we have been performing, touring and recording <a href="http://www.lisalynne.com/presskits/lisageorge.html">together as a duo</a> and in groups pretty much full time since 1997. George lives in Florida where we still tour often. (Even as I write this now) For those of you familiar with my previous recordings you have heard him often as he has been featured on just about everything I have done for the past decade. He is a wonderful musician and dear friend/brother as well. Here is George recording his bamboo flute.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEU8wD27fziAilOMr3or-RFHjl4UOA-b-cAHUkNzOdgjtm68E19Diffx5uD61j0UBT2LQu62zBU7YT5HvxdD5pbmNJRqCYTWbyRd1bUAexEPzTHl9sIzvemBYAVgFRpWVZkSq995HyZTVf/s1600/115_3900.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEU8wD27fziAilOMr3or-RFHjl4UOA-b-cAHUkNzOdgjtm68E19Diffx5uD61j0UBT2LQu62zBU7YT5HvxdD5pbmNJRqCYTWbyRd1bUAexEPzTHl9sIzvemBYAVgFRpWVZkSq995HyZTVf/s200/115_3900.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><br />
Finally this recording puts all my favorite people and sounds together and I'm so happy about that. I was a major fan of <a href="http://www.lionharp.com/">Aryeh's music </a>long before we met, (and long before I ended up being his partner/partner) and finally we are able to merge all of our gifts together in one place. Aryeh and I play all the instruments you hear except the flutes played by George. Our combined instrument collection is vast, and we feel so lucky to have so many instruments to make this music. Here are just a few of them.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ4AvoW8sCNFdnIFJc7iJTTxGGFrgR6umzbFvXqNJjH39bYao_lZmR7wozDX-F4kN-3kQcrHLu-X1xi4aAnfbl38t0pL5dQVWOT8njLPxBBl9fcQfaA8Te_2cfiyjTpKF5OWmrn0y2RvGg/s1600/studio+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ4AvoW8sCNFdnIFJc7iJTTxGGFrgR6umzbFvXqNJjH39bYao_lZmR7wozDX-F4kN-3kQcrHLu-X1xi4aAnfbl38t0pL5dQVWOT8njLPxBBl9fcQfaA8Te_2cfiyjTpKF5OWmrn0y2RvGg/s200/studio+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">So what is it like on a typical recording day? We'll, because of the advances in technology, home recording studios have the capability to record as high quality as professional studios. I have been in many high end studios in my day, and when I compare our current home studio recordings to my expensive pro studio recordings on Windham Hill Records, you cannot tell a difference. I do have some excellent microphones (those were quite expensive) Aryeh has his own recording gear and can run pro recording computer programs. I wont bore you with those details, my eyes glaze over when the talk turns to gear, but it suffices to say, between my gear and Aryeh's, we have quite a good setup. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-aKfmbwjHhWx3eOZGHyKbZ193L2XMMpbhwujauRZUMZOXDssNu5vS3h8TM862BbSEfbEBP4s8st0R7kZSlZ2UxxdluNr9UDJXIoJ5nepWKI5LZBm3nV9Q8uDEGVojI6KtJfXSfaXGFaD/s1600/A+studio+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="145" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf-aKfmbwjHhWx3eOZGHyKbZ193L2XMMpbhwujauRZUMZOXDssNu5vS3h8TM862BbSEfbEBP4s8st0R7kZSlZ2UxxdluNr9UDJXIoJ5nepWKI5LZBm3nV9Q8uDEGVojI6KtJfXSfaXGFaD/s200/A+studio+2.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>Our studio basement is totally sound proof, so we can record anytime of day or night. Aryeh likes to record early. Earlier than me, so a typical morning would be quick toast and tea and at 8:00 AM we get going. Me with my second mug of tea, sitting there blurry eyed and grumpy until the heater kicks in. San Francisco mornings can be quite chilly. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">When the room warms up, the tuning begins. That is the most tedious part of recording. All our instruments, all our strings.. temperature changes, the tuning has to be perfect for recording, so often it takes multiple tries. Sometimes you are minutes into a perfect take, and you have to stop for one note being out of tune and start over. Sometimes digital information gets lost or corrupted for some bizarre technical reason, hence you may hear some rare-but-salty-sailor-talk from Aryeh. Its challenging to say the least, when your all warmed up to play, filled with inspiration and ready to rock, but that one note goes sharp or flat so you have to start all over again, tuning note by note. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJbr9eBRSzuA9fhAIy7dFXxYQENoOOSDqKH2iQNv2kN9DppPS8g-ZHUpItpGy1qLTbU-NZ0tXWh-7cJ0H4JC97o42s3NGWATba24E1r4vx0ZiXkUJXuQdsPq7eNXQzMMCSAnstGIZC4Yej/s1600/Lisa+Bandura.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJbr9eBRSzuA9fhAIy7dFXxYQENoOOSDqKH2iQNv2kN9DppPS8g-ZHUpItpGy1qLTbU-NZ0tXWh-7cJ0H4JC97o42s3NGWATba24E1r4vx0ZiXkUJXuQdsPq7eNXQzMMCSAnstGIZC4Yej/s200/Lisa+Bandura.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
<div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;"> Finally the music starts happening and the ideas fly. We get thrilled about some parts, we debate others. I might play a tune three times through and we choose the favorite, sometime we have to make choices between technically perfect takes or imperfection but with more vibe and feel. To find the balance is key, to capture what is real, combine our years of experience and hope that the finished piece conveys what we meant to say. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;"><br />
</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;"> The new tracks get listened to upstairs on all different stereo systems. Aryeh likes to go back and work on string parts by himself and play them for me when he's done. Then I say, "its too much, or its beautiful, or its too weird." Eventually we find the place where we are both happy.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinjtLHwGJlBsXo5FcwL8a3g4W7uep9hQwvywYxwGB4Tf_J-TbZK8nGWKTZCZ-HmnhOtEHdbR3phwJMLMKj2fMuB6VoIUo0L6j23MXeVxvAAQfqjEn-wB6qePFLEdk_QmFqWKYSOdBKC6x6/s1600/aryeh+violin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinjtLHwGJlBsXo5FcwL8a3g4W7uep9hQwvywYxwGB4Tf_J-TbZK8nGWKTZCZ-HmnhOtEHdbR3phwJMLMKj2fMuB6VoIUo0L6j23MXeVxvAAQfqjEn-wB6qePFLEdk_QmFqWKYSOdBKC6x6/s200/aryeh+violin.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
As we go along, when its time to add George's flutes, sometimes we record while on the road, even in hotel rooms! Sometimes the parts are recorded at his place in Florida, and sometimes if he's out west we do it in our place. Here is a movie clip of George doing flutes in our studio.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwAr5abZzzp928-Sgekp-bYqUl3Jv1fC9wNqrQyCa7zZei759nimRv7cytlWdZ4drbhoIY6u2J-pugAZqBlaQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">After a few months of this.. We move on to final mixing in a bigger studio. Most of the mixing is done by Aryeh at our place, but we need more specialized outboard gear, and so several days are spent going back and forth to nearby sound studio in San Francisco fine combing the details, the balances, the levels of solos, go home and listen again, go back and tweak a little more. We can get quite caught up in the tiniest details. </span> <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGq3DxF2zhGjqp2M86IrNVTRIKFsExcLTyOhm-eG9ApnGM2WAtsyQW5cE-SjpasiwqOalCROSrDmjx0ucCAMrEFOkEwHpPVhnJbaXMJ-yot0XzzdSA24-Erm8dZH_n31FJ93r9Ed1NtP6U/s1600/LA+studio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="136" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGq3DxF2zhGjqp2M86IrNVTRIKFsExcLTyOhm-eG9ApnGM2WAtsyQW5cE-SjpasiwqOalCROSrDmjx0ucCAMrEFOkEwHpPVhnJbaXMJ-yot0XzzdSA24-Erm8dZH_n31FJ93r9Ed1NtP6U/s200/LA+studio.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
Then comes audio mastering, and that is key. That is where we spare no expense to get the highest possible fidelity and clarity that technology has to offer. We send the finished project for post production to <a href="http://www.berniebecker.com/">Bernie Becker's Mastering studio </a>in Pasadena, (near LA) Mastering is taking all the elements, boosting them, creating a sparkling sheen on the overall sound, making sure everything is even and clear and bright and warm as can be. Bernie Becker is a legendary guy, and the nicest man ever. He and his son Dale have worked on every recording I've done for years. Here's Bernie.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sT4SMnr6CU7ko9lGpaoVmY6aHGQRiFCejOYj97wDOqHdObHTBwyrbtFFsF0mds3AIVtDWRTGXPZS6IMe2zjhYC1pWzZE2ONjPdYutVtvpvmIdb9Y2ISEhe0LD3z0599zM4YhL0qW23J9/s1600/Bernie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="161" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sT4SMnr6CU7ko9lGpaoVmY6aHGQRiFCejOYj97wDOqHdObHTBwyrbtFFsF0mds3AIVtDWRTGXPZS6IMe2zjhYC1pWzZE2ONjPdYutVtvpvmIdb9Y2ISEhe0LD3z0599zM4YhL0qW23J9/s200/Bernie.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
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</tbody></table>Meanwhile time to decide on the artwork and do credits (my job, and my longtime awesome graphics and webguy <a href="http://www.gonewest.com/">John</a>), and everything to do with the actual manufacturing.. and in about nine months total (same as making a baby) viola.. you have it. <br />
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Then comes the promotion (also my job) so a whole new set of tasks around sending it out to radio stations, retail outlets, press releases, concert performances.. the list is long. At this point in time Aryeh runs away and hides... in the studio, already working on his next music! <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">n this day and age, the way the music industry has changed, its more often independently done in-house by the artists themselves. I have experienced many different levels of album releases, some were big time with lots of people and help, and money. And some on my own label, humble and modest. This one is somewhere in the middle. But every album might be like having a new child. </span> <br />
<div><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">You do the best you can, give it all you've got, and send it out in the world, hoping it does well, and is happy. But in this case we hope it makes people happy. We hope it makes them feel what we feel.. the love and reference for the instruments and sounds, the music that comes into the heart, out of the hands..hopefully into other hearts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,Geneva,Swiss,SunSans-Regular;">When we start hearing back the wonderful comments from the listeners, we breathe a collective sigh of relief that all that work and dedication, wisdom, faith and perseverance, debate, devotion, and even a few tears, (or was that beers)... was more than worth it. </span></div><br />
And after all that work we have no choice but to go to Mexico and celebrate.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5XSIw662buzWfhmsU6VozBcd2spkWGtjD9ofmiydxk8O11qMLqmVMqYwY-REu7iU_hykctq4DLUWWaq8y7s_tmP7v7tdqAl_Eskus2dOCvUskkCLxa9UPHpa9wuczXUXyF6UdAxowldMc/s1600/lisa+beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="169" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5XSIw662buzWfhmsU6VozBcd2spkWGtjD9ofmiydxk8O11qMLqmVMqYwY-REu7iU_hykctq4DLUWWaq8y7s_tmP7v7tdqAl_Eskus2dOCvUskkCLxa9UPHpa9wuczXUXyF6UdAxowldMc/s320/lisa+beach.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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</div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-72119856709850545772011-03-29T14:46:00.000-07:002012-02-13T17:21:35.458-08:00My niece and I making our latest movie masterpiece.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I don't have any kids myself, but have one sister named Jenny, she has two kids that I adore, and we do a lot of crazy fun creative stuff together. Trevor is now a teenager, so he's rather busy with other things, but Annelyse is my buddy, my partner in crafting and crime.. so we make movies. Here is the latest when she got her first pair of skates. I do the filming, directing and editing.. Annelyse provides the the star power, she is also does all her own stunts. With a little help from my Imovie effects. Hope you enjoy!<br />
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<br /></div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-81842029640158683922011-03-29T14:20:00.000-07:002011-03-29T14:20:07.685-07:00A musical visit with patients and nurses!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Here's a short excerpt of bringing all my harps to Marion Cancer clinic in Central California. It's always so amazing to me how quickly people can play. I think it amazes them too. The thing about the harp is, its so much more friendly to the beginner than people realize. I love it so much to see people light up when they hear the music they are able to play. And all the harps playing together in surround sound is quite something to hear.<br />
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Mostly I see people being empowered by the experience. Most are dealing with very serious health challenges and to accomplish this unique thing that they didn't realize they could, I think that makes them know that other things are very achievable too. So that's why I do this. I love every minute of the workshops. I have to admit that loading and tuning the harps is more of a task. It takes me about two hours to set up, and with 17 harps its about 600 strings to tune. One by one. But I try to think of that time as a meditation time. I am usually struggling against the clock still tuning as people are coming in, but I think I'm the fastest tuner in the west. I also set up my projector with images, do a little concert, with all the harps in a row behind me, like ships. I tell stories of the harps, and we have questions and answers. After the intermission I select a harp for every person based on their personality, or body size, or medical condition. I see big smiles as each person holds their harp, and we commence making music. Its that rare time, when you know you are in exactly the right place, doing exactly the right thing, and all is well in this place and this moment, and its my favorite feeling in the world.<br />
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<object height="224" width="400"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/1786589671822" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/1786589671822" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="224"></embed></object></div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287543546723996234.post-82141680446419081412011-03-29T09:05:00.000-07:002011-03-29T09:05:57.053-07:00A musical visit to an elementary school!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">As part of a Central California tour we stopped to visit an elementary school in Taft, California. We brought all of our instruments hoping the kids would be interested. They were so many of them and they were so young! So you never know what could happen, but we hoped for the best and sure enough it was a rousing success. We shared all about our instruments and played for over 400 kids.They were totally attentive and interested and with some very, very good questions.. "how old are you?" "are you married?' and so on. It was a true highlight of the trip. Here's a peak of a song we all did together. <br />
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<object height="226" width="400"><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/1743203707200" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/1743203707200" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="226"></embed></object></div>Lisa Lynnehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09784865671193125779noreply@blogger.com