The Rag

The Sun Makes a Difference; Yes it Does!

2012-01-24T17:51:00.003-05:00

Today has been a terrific day. A great meeting at FCS to discuss our fundraising efforts for our annual fundraiser, The Sweet Side. The most exciting thing is that Doris Buffett has agreed to have a lunch date with her at La Petite Auberge for our silent auction. The newspaper article has drawn so much interest; more than 1,000 views already a few hours ago.

Lunch stop at FoodE for sustenance and I made a new acquaintance. I love the back community table. I always end up chatting with someone. This time, it was a young mother and two children. They are from Manassas and only come into town once a week or so. We talked about the kids, which then turned to the subject of nutrition. I told her I had been juicing and we ended up spending the better part of an hour talking about that and that she has a juicer and wants to get back to it. I gave her the websites that I've been following (Joe Cross, Omega Juicer juice recipes, etc.), and she thanked me for the motivation to start juicing again, especially for her kids. Kudos!

Jack Brown's Tattoo Revival Rocks!!! Went into get a gift certificate for our silent auction; thought I'd be getting $50, but they gave $150.00. This group is always giving back to the community, so remember them when the urge hits for some fabulous skin art. I love them, especially the songs they sing.

Books, books, books. Another thought today is how much I love books and bookstores. I know a lot of folks are turned on by Kindles and other tablet readers because we are becomiing more and more of a sedentary life force (or should I say "slug"?). What? Get up and walk down to the bookstore when I can call things up instantly and not get out of bed? Anyway, I can't imagine a world without our local bookstores. One of my favorites is The Griffin on Caroline Street. They opened up a whole new world of reading for me and provided a wonderful talent outlet for many of my musician friends. The economy has been hard on them (and a lot of other bookstores), so I offer up a challenge. Go visit The Griffin; take your piggybank money and buy one book, that's all, just one book. They've always got great sales going on, nice jewelry, awesome chai. Just go in and make one purchase and show them that the community supports them. Tell them you appreciate their presence in our town. If everyone whose ears perked up at the news of a possible Barnes and Noble inhabiting the older Borders space would visit them just once, it would make a world of difference. Just go do it. For you. For them. For our local economy. Thank you.

JUICING UP!!! Did you know there is a juice bar in town? Yes, there is. Stopped by there today to meet the owner (Lizz Howard). Check out her group here and ask to join:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/154292501346006/

I got a juice that was super delicious and with added basil and wheat grass, which I'd never put in juice. Oh, do I feel good right now! She's a wealth of knowledge and not just a nutritionist and juicer, she is also a raw food chef. She also has classes there at the gallery (Gallery 915 on Lafayette Boulevard). AND she uses my same brand of juicer! Coolio!

The fact that the sun has blessed us with a balmy day also makes it perfect. And, yes, here comes my son from the bus. My bright spark. I need to get some hugs and kisses!

Take care of you, y'all.

Beaucoup Blue is BACK!

2011-10-26T15:25:00.001-04:00

House About Tonight Productions is thrilled to be bringing back to the 'burg the immensely talented duo of Beaucoup Blue. Beaucoup Blue is the Americana Philadelphia-based duo of David and Adrian Mowry.

Father and son have been performing their roots-based music nationally and internationally as a duo, quartet and on occasion quintet. Bridging many gaps in American music, their soulful traditional and contemporary styles mesh into an innovative and authentic sound. Although blues is a staple in their repertoire, they base their love in music from Folk, Soul, R&B, Jazz, Country and Bluegrass. All these interests and influences come out in their original songwriting in a unique way. A handsome range of instruments like six- and twelve-string guitars, slide guitar, and round-neck resonator guitar, combined with two soulful voices, encompasses a rich and honest feel, noticeably influenced by familial ties.

Beaucoup Blue had previously released two albums: Out Of The Woodwork, 2003, and Hearts At Home, 2005. The long awaited third album, Free To Fall, is produced by Grammy nominated Jim Salamone. The project features a world class rhythm section including Jeff Sheard on drums, Bill Zinno on acoustic upright bass as well as the extraordinary talents of a few friends. A guest appearance by Universal recording artist Melody Gardot, and the Americana Angels of Red Molly contributed their voices to this important work in classic proportion.

This very popular duo is back for yet annother appearance in Fredericksburg; please make sure to RSVP early for the eagerly awaited return of these amazing musicians and songwriters.

NEW VENUE: The Scott Residence in Stafford, VA (directions will be sent before the concert when you RSVP)

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Doors at 7pm

Music at 8pm

$15 donation per person taken at the door; all donation monies go directly to the musicians so that they can continue to travel and spread their gospel of music

Please also bring a dish for the buffet table; House About Tonight will provide some beverages and desserts

First-come, first-served, so RSVP today--VERY IMPORTANT TO RSVP, as space is limited!!! I will send directions next week to those who RSVP; thanks for your continued support of live music that you can listen to in an intimate environment! Hope to see you soon!

You may email your RSVP to me at RAGwoman1@aol.com

White Collar Job to Singing with a Guitar

2011-10-16T22:11:00.001-04:00

Singer/songwriter and guitarist Andrew McKnight's five CDs and captivating performances showcase his engaging collection of songs and stories celebrating the lives and landscapes of rural American people with warmth and humor.

Since permanently leaving his corporate environmental engineering career in 1996, the award-winning folk and Americana artist has traced half a million miles of blue highways and backwater towns, and earned critical acclaim and enthusiastic fan response. His music and messages are always compelling, infused with his literate prose, eye for intriguing detail, and soundscapes that span haunting blues, feisty anthems, rustic folk, and a bit of swing.

He usually tours solo, but also performs frequently with founding Nitty Gritty Dirt Band member Les Thompson fronting their genre-bending quartet Beyond Borders. In addition to his music, he is an insightful essayist and poet, a gifted workshop leader, and a warm and thoughtful interview.

Join us for music that not only is beautiful sounding, but presents a thoughtful message. Andrew's music will leave you energized and hopeful. I know you'll like him a lot.

Doors at 7pm
Music at 8pm

A donation of $15 per person will be collected at the door; all donations go to the musician to help in their work as independent musicians

Please bring a dish to share; some beverages and desserts will be provided by House About Tonight Productions.

Please take the time to RSVP to this special event as space is limited. Thank you.

Bryan Bowers Returns

2011-10-10T12:10:00.001-04:00

House About Tonight Productions proudly welcomes back to Fredericksburg a real favorite: Master Autoharpist/Singer/Songwriter/Storyteller/Performance Artist Bryan Bowers. A simple description of Bryan's work would be songs, stories, and strings.

The show is on Friday, October 14 at the Athenaeum (formerly known as The Wounded Bookstore) at 109 Amelia Street in downtown Fredericksburg. Doors are at 7pm and the concert starts at 8pm.

Donation: $15 per person (taken at the door)

Beverages and light snacks will be served at intermission.

Now, about Bryan:

From his rather unglamorous beginning as a street singer, Bryan has become a major artist on the traditional music circuit. He has redefined the autoharp and is also well known as a singer-songwriter. Bryan has a dynamic outgoing personality and an uncanny ability to enchant a crowd in practically any situation. His towering six-foot-four-inch frame can be wild and zany on stage while playing a song like "Dixie," and five minutes later later, he can have the same audience singing "Will the Circle Be Unbroken" in quiet reverence and delight. We guarantee that you will come away from his performance absolutely mesmerized with his talent and message.

“To call Bryan Bowers’ performance simply a ‘concert’ would be inadequate if not inaccurate … (it) could better be described as an experience!”
-Deseret News

“Bowers is widely regarded as the leading virtuoso on the autoharp… Bowers also has distinct gifts as a singer and songwriter.”
-People Magazine

“…This man makes more music from an Autoharp than you can imagine from a 12-string guitar and a harpsichord combined. He has more stage presence and charisma than any stage performer in recent memory.”
-The Washington Times

My own personal experience with Bryan is that he seems to call when I need to hear from him most; earlier in the spring when we were talking about this show, he asked if he could "bend my ear" a while. He did, and I ended up in tears; sweet tears that were so needed for many reasons. The story was wonderful and I hope he will present it to you, too. So bring a handkerchief along with you to this event; you really don't want to miss it!

Reservations are not required, but there is limited seating (about 50), so please arrive on time so that you don't have to stand or miss the show!

See You in September

2011-09-08T15:33:00.002-04:00

Two fabulous shows this month from House About Tonight Productions!!

First off, The Taters join us for fun and music at our September 17 picnic in Spotsylvania.

Come out and help us celebrate the end of summer with an outdoor picnic and show you will never forget. The Taters will be out in fine form, having survived the dog days of August, singing their way into your hearts. Their music harkens back to the late 50s and early 60s, but with their own Tater twist.

For more info and to listen to some of their sweet sounds: http://www.thetaters.com/

PLEASE NOTE THE DATE CHANGE: this concert was originally scheduled for September 24; it is now going to be held on September 17.

The suggested donation for this event is $15 per person. Bring your partner, your sibling(s), your friends, or someone new--we love meeting new people!

We are starting the event a little later in the evening in the hopes that the sun will be setting behind the trees and providing a bit of coolness.

Concert will be held at:

96 Longview Lane, Spotsylvania, VA 22553

Social Hour: 7-8 pm
Music: 8-10pm

Since this is a potluck event, please also bring a dish and/or a bottle of your favorite beverage to share.

Bring your lawn chair and/or blanket to sit on while you soak up the wonderful tunes of the Taters. There will be plenty of room for dancing if you are so inclined. Pop-up canopies are allowed just in case you want shade, but they must be lined up at the top of the hill. The sun should be down by then anyway.

After the longest break I've ever had in providing great music via house concerts, I am really looking forward to seeing you all again! Let me know if you're attending, okay?

PARKING will be in a field adjacent to the property; look for signs and helpers showing you the way!!!!

And THEN!!!!!

On Saturday, September 24, House About Tonight Productions and Raven Hi-Fi are proud to present in concert Ange Boxall. Tasmania-born Ange is a singer/songwriter who takes her work very seriously, kind of. She's a dreamer, a spiritual walker on this earth, who writes about love, relationships, traveling, and longing.

Please help me welcome her to Fredericksburg by joining us in an intimate setting for this show.

Saturday, September 24, 2011
at Raven Hi-Fi
214 William Street
Fredericksburg, VA

Suggested Donation: $15 per person, plus a dish to share for the potluck supper and/or a bottle of your favorite beverage

Social Hour: 7-8pm
Music: 8-10pm

Please visit her website to get a taste of what you will hear at the show! http://www.angeboxall.com/

"Fool for Now" is my personal favorite!

This venue has limited space, so please RSVP as soon as possible to hold your seat!!

COMING IN OCTOBER:

Bryan Bowers on October 14
Andrew McKnight on October 22

NOVEMBER is dark for now.

DECEMBER brings a special holiday show with Big Wide Grin; dig out your ugliest holiday sweater for our contest!!!

Sunny Day Musings

2011-08-24T15:51:00.006-04:00

How cool is it that in 1958, my mother (who was the middle child) gave birth to me when her brother was 12 years old?

How cool is it that in 2012, my daughter (who is the middle child) will give birth to a son when her brother is 12 years old?

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Speaking of babies, the earthquake hit right after I had learned that my daughter is carrying a boy. She, her husband, and I were in the library of our house after having just watched a few sonogram videos (technology is amazing) showing most definitely the baby has boy parts! We were celebrating and laughing when the rumbling started; a moment of disorientation and confusion and then Anthony said we'd better get outside. We ran like the dickens, ran up the driveway all the way to the street, just to look back at the house and watch the windows continue to shake and shake. Scared the bejesus out of us, but in hind sight, man, that was exhilarating!

I think Mother Nature was so excited for little "Boomer" (as I'm calling him now) that she just wanted to join in the party!!!

And poo on those who say that was nothing or that we should trying living in California! Well, we don't live in California and a trembler of this kind is a big deal here on the East Coast. The magnitude of power and widespread reach was quite amazing.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Also in relation to the earthquake; how is it that Gary, Elliott, and I could have spent most of the last month or so together 24-7 and the first day home that we are all in separate places, an earthquake hits? Eh? Crazy stuff. Mother Nature must like family closeness.

++++++++++++++++++++++++

My oldest son turned 30 on Monday. When I was pregnant with him, I had huge cravings for watermelon. Couldn't get enough of it.

Today, he wears a watermelon tattoo on his right arm to commemorate me in his life. Even though I'd like to get a tattoo one day, I won't need one to commemorate his birth. That day, that experience, changed me so much and made an indelible impression on my heart. I love you, Kelley, and seeing you so happy in your life brings more joy than I could have ever desired.

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Post-Travel Musings

Besides posting bjillions of pictures, I keep thinking about our trip to Germany. I found myself in the international foods aisle at Wegman's the other day just staring at the German groceries and whining ever so slightly.

How to describe a 37-years-later reunion? I was last in Germany in 1974 for a month; my mother wanted to donate a kidney to her ailing sister and needed to go for that length of time for the testing needed. Sadly, she could not be a donor; I know this broke her heart.

The only thing that comes to mind when we settled in is that it felt like home; I cried when I saw my uncle and I cried again when we had to say goodbye. As the last-living member of my mother's generation, his presence is hugely important in the family structure.

Why did it take so long to get back there? I don't know. I've mentioned fear as a reason, maybe lack of money a long while back, wondering whether it was the right thing to do. I have no doubts now; I should have done it years ago, but like anything that you should do, you have to be ready to do it and with your heart and mind in the right place. I offer that I am a slow learner, but we did finally make it happen and it was the best trip of my life.

Now I've had some awesome trips before, so that is saying a lot, but this one not only covered going to another country, but was also my work in processing who I was, who I am, and who I am going to be. Losing my mother 30 years ago was something I still had to work on in my mind; meeting the reality of that loss in seeing my uncle surprisingly healed a big part of my heart.

I feel sad for myself, but think of his losses, too; his two beloved sisters, a great brother-in-law, both parents, a grandmother he grew up with. And yet he's still chugging along, inadvertently showing me that that is just what you do.

I loved being with my uncle. Seriously organized, he made a travel plan that squeezed more into two weeks than most folks can do in a month. He knew what I wanted and he made it happen. Organization and planning like that is a skill--I might have a little of that and it was so cool to see where it might have come from. His and my aunt's apartment and house are that way, too; not too much stuff and everything has its place. Love it. Kind of a shock coming home to my place, which, even though not stuffed to the gills, could surely take a good tip to the side and seeing what falls out.

One day we visited the graves of those who have gone on and it was a somber moment in our travels. But graveyards in Europe are different and while you can feel sad, the flowers and plantings and sculptures lift you up in a spiritual way that cannot be ignored. We put in flowers for my grandmother, grandfather and great-grandmother and then planted more at the Meier plot where my aunt and uncle have been laid to rest. I worked the dirt with bare hands, placing a living memorial to those we've lost.

We met new cousins and new friends (I've adopted one as an honorary Uncle), strangers helped us find my birthplace (literally, the ROOM in which I was born--so cool), and Gary also had a family reunion with cousins he had known in Israel on the kibbutz and cousins he had never met before. We both have grown so much with this trip.

We went to Dachau and mourned those who were murdered there; we visited castles and laughed at the brilliant kings who, with a bit of power and money, were considered mad (reminds me a bit of Michael Jackson, except that King Ludwig never had a child that he could dangle over a royal balcony); we visited a small village bakery where we were treated like royalty (I can still taste that fresh plum cake!); we sailed below the Zugspitze and marveled in its grandeur.

We saw and tasted and immersed ourselves for two lovely, wondrous weeks into a society that was new, but felt so right.

So thankful my partner in life felt the same need that I did to make this connection; it is those threads of relationship that keep this family quilt strong and tight.

Toothy Grin

2011-08-04T22:24:00.003-04:00

I always do this; you know, just before a big trip, cram all my appointments into the few days before when I really should be concentrating on packing?!?!?

Today I saw Dominic for Zengar training, then Liz for talk therapy and Reiki, and then to the orthodontist for my regular checkup. As you may know, my two-year odyssey into teeth straightening has been lengthened to three years. We had a change in plans in that we are correcting a bad decision made by my dentist during teenage years. Instead of taking teeth out, we are going to put one back in to even out the number of teeth in my head and make my smile more purty.

I've been fine with it, but one aspect of it does bother me. I've got this huge gap on the right side of my mouth (think Grand Canyon) that is being opened for an implant at some later date. The process is okay, but occasionally I will catch a look at myself and see that gap and go Ewwwwww! Or I will see a photo and go Ewwwwwww!

So, today I saw my dental assistant, awesome woman that she is, and during our regular conversation, I mentioned that I should have come by earlier so that I could get a fake tooth to fill in the hole during my upcoming trip. Vanity's ugly head rises, yes, but I will be seeing folks I have not seen in 37 years, so I do want to present a full smile for them.

She agreed that it would have been great if we had just done it earlier.

Dr. Casperson walks over at the tail-end of this conversation and asks what we were talking about; reprising the anguish, he looks at me and says the magical words, "I might be able to make something for you today."

My reaction, with dropped jaw, was "What? Are you serious?"

He was, he did, and now I have a full smile with a manufactured tooth facade glued into the Grand Canyonesque-gap in my mouth. I'm still sitting here not believing that he pulled it off during little more than my regular appointment. I will have to be extra careful and there's a chance that I might lose it during the time in Europe, but I'm going to stay positive. Heck, I'll mostly be eating bread and more bread anyway, so that should not be too much stress for the tooth.

I am so thankful for someone as caring as Dr. C. and his staff. Now, when I look in the mirror, I catch myself saying, "Wow!"

Late Summer/Fall 2011 House Concert Schedule

2011-08-04T22:05:00.001-04:00

The House About Tonight Productions house concert schedule for later this year has changed somewhat. To our deep sadness, Kaci Bolls had to cancel her show that was originally scheduled for early September, but it's all good. She got a great opportunity to work at a new music venue in Florida through the end of the summer -- here's the Facebook link to that new place, so if you're in that area, please go check out Kaci and the venue!

http://www.facebook.com/pages/First-Note-Music-Hall/158685240867153

The Taters' show on September 24 has been moved to September 17 due to a travel schedule change on their end. It is also at a new location in Spotsylvania. If you would like info on this show, please contact me by responding to this blog post.

October 2011 brings two great musicians to our area: On the 14th, fresh from a date in Washington, D.C., Bryan Bowers will enthrall you with his musicianship and put you under a spell with his storytelling. Very excited to be bringing him back to the area! (location tba)

On the 22nd, Andrew McKnight will be joining us in Spotsylvania for his unique brand of music that is both soothing and demands attention. Details to follow soon.

Early November, on the 6th, North Carolinian Jon Shain will share his bluesy repertoire and show you how it's done in the South.

December 17 brings back the wonderfully talented bi-coastal trio of Big Wide Grin (Karl Werne, Elaine Dempsey, and Lawrence Lambert) as they help us to ring in the Holiday season--we may even have an ugly holiday sweater contest!!

2012 will bring back some favorites and some new folks, so please stay tuned to find out which of your favorite musicians are coming back to town. Hope to see you at one of the shows!!!

Metaphorically Singing

2011-07-19T19:11:00.000-04:00

My youngest son and I were in the car today running some last-minute errands before vacation. He always likes to hog the radio in the car, so we made a deal that I would have the choice of station while we were downtown, but when we made it to about halfway home, he would get to change it to "his" station.

"His" is a local rap-type music station; mine is a station that plays songs from the more innocent years of classic rock.

Most of the music he listens to I kind of tune out, you know, it's got a nice beat, but I don't listen to the words. In my day, we listened to the words, and said profound things like, "Groovy, man. That's far out!" and "I dig it!"

I must be growing a conservative bone, though, because the song on the radio made me angry and I turned it right back to my classic rock.

My son was not happy and so I tried to explain the mysogynistic crap I was hearing on the radio. A high percentage of the songs on this station are about sex: the scenario typically involves a woman meeting a man at a dance club or a bar and the man convincing the woman to go home with him because there may not be another sunrise and then the man starts talking about ". . . going for a ride . . . ." Oy! I tried to explain the whole idea of metaphors in song and how sometimes they can create a beautiful statement but that these were misuses of the art.

He countered with, "Well, back in your day, all the songs were about drugs!"

I countered with, "Was not!"

Switching back to my radio station, I could hear the wonderful sound of the Beatles' singing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." Now THAT is real music.

Living in Fear

2011-07-19T16:02:00.000-04:00

If you are new to reading my posts, you may not know that I consider "F.E.A.R." the worst four-letter word in our language. It has decimated relationships, caused self esteems to collapse, and brought down whole countries based on ignorance.

In my own little personal world, fear has caused me to live a life half lived. Do you remember that quote from "Strictly Ballroom"? One of my favorite films and one of my favorite quotes. The character, Fran, is talking to Scott, and says, "A life lived in fear is a life half lived."

Full understanding of the effect of fear on my life has taken a journey of many twists and turns, ups and downs, and lots of hard work. Not giving up when something gets uncomfortable or makes me even more fearful has brought me to a new place of peace.

Fear of letting someone down, fear of being considered selfish, fear of not being good enough, fear of not having friends, fear of seeing the me I really am, fear of love, fear of being happy.

A friend and I were discussing this just the other day and she was taken aback when I mentioned that I had been fearful of being happy. I can't begin to recall when that fear entered my conscience, but I do know it has held me back or caused me to over-react at many stages in my life.

Lately, my life has changed dramatically. In a sense, I have found an inner calm. I don't need outside influences as much to make me feel a part of things. I don't need any more than what I already have and it took me a long time to know this fact.

From a party girl who only wanted to be out every night to someone who is hard-pressed to even go to a private party, it has been both a blessing and a curse. I love that I am comfortable in my surroundings and need not travel far for that pleasure. But I do miss, somewhat, the nights out. I am sure I will find my balance.

Family life is good; my husband and I just want to spend the rest of our lives together on vacation. We enjoy traveling and are working to make this more and more of a reality in our lives. My children are doing well and I feel no threat for their welfare because I know they can make their own way, whether I am of this world or not. With a father, stepfather, and me to guide them, in our own crazy ways, they are prepared for anything that may come. I could not be prouder of them.

My friends are a smaller group than before, but much more loving, forgiving, and joyful. It is a good place to be.

Family ties are good and growing stronger; I believe I am the leader in the family on this journey--whether it is being a good companion to my mother-in-law or a daughter who understands and forgives her own father for everything I perceived as a wrong in the past. Even with my mother-in-law, I can see that some of the things she does are also based on fear and anxiety and so I can understand that now and make her life easier by just being a friend, not wanting anything from her but a friendship.

That feeling carried over into one of the best birthday party celebrations we've ever had out at family shore house in Maryland a few weekends ago. I had a few friends out and that made it even more fun for me personally.

After everyone had gone and cleanup completed, I mentioned to my MIL that I had taken lots of photos and that I was sending copies to her friends via e-mail. I told her I could send her some that way, too, but she groaned because she really is not of the digital age and loves letters and pictures you can hold. I groaned back when she asked for prints, but later in the week, I revisited the idea with a new perspective and, remembering all the cards, letters, and packages that she sends us, I had a new idea.

Prints were made of the party photos and I gathered them for her in a bright purple photobook. I mailed it today and she should get it by Thursday. In the past, this might have been something I would do out of fear of loss of relationship, but this time, it was done purely with love. And it felt really good. Could become addicting, I think.

That is what happens when the fear and anxiety (which I know is still in existence in my brain) take a backseat to the higher feelings of oneness and truth and love and no fear. I like this journey of life and the lessons I have learned--sometimes I say I would go back and change some things, especially the more hurtful experiences, but if I did, I would not be where I am now and this is a real good place to be.

Some Things to Think About

2011-07-09T09:18:00.008-04:00

Well, you know that sometimes information and enlightenment comes in leaps and bounds. There are those who will have you believe that enlightenment means you have the ability to walk on water and spout pithy sayings.

First of all, those who say they are enlightened are NOT; if they have to say it, they are already breaking one of the tenets of being an enlightened being and that is humbleness. So watch out for those folks who would have you believe that they are floating a little higher than you on this earth.

I learn so many things just by watching people, as I'm sure you do, in real life social settings and on social networks. The need for feedback is rich in our hearts and minds and it is rather amazing what some people do to get that feedback. Some are very sad efforts to reach out to folks and some humor me. For me, all I have to do is mention food and I've got thirty comments. I love the discourse in which we can discuss the merits of a work-of-art tomato sandwich.

I am always amazed at how much I learn about people just by spending time with them one-on-one or in small gatherings, especially my dad and the in-laws.

My dad always laughs almost maniacally when I call him, just for no seeming reason. It wasn't until I brought my close friend, Connie, over to his house, that I realized that he laughs because he LIKES it. Connie ingratiates herself to anyone in about 17 seconds flat, so my dad laughed like I hadn't heard him laugh in years. We made more light of serious subjects than usual, and even somberness had no place on that screened back porch that day. As Connie and I left that day, she leaned out the window, waving big and exclaiming, "Bye, Dad!!! Bye, Dad!!" My dad had to hold onto the porch railing because he was laughing so hard. I am so thankful to Connie's hilarity that made that visit so healing and just plain fun.

My mother-in-law and I had a similar visit; not so much out-and-out belly-laugh fun, but we enjoyed a very special day together recently; probably the best we've ever had. Why? Because we were just she and me. Usually, we are surrounded by and distracted by her children and grandchildren and the house is loud and you can't think.

She suffered a mini-stroke a few weeks back on the very day my husband was dropping off our son for a week-long camp, very generously paid for by the in-laws (though probably for the last time), at their country club in Maryland. She had been upstairs doing some bills waiting on her daughter to arrive to have a meal (first mistake, I found out later), and when she came down, she had a bout of aphasia, in which she could only speak nonsense. After a run to the hospital and many tests, it was decided she did have a stroke, but since the aphasia cleared up so quickly, she came home the next day.

I was very uncomfortable with her driving the kids around (to camp and other places), so I went up to stay over and do the driving for her. She knew what I was up to and took it in stride, especially when I explained to her that I had learned that a mini-stroke could be the portend of more small strokes or a larger one. There are other things that the aphasia could be foretelling, too, but I went up on caution anyway.

Ended up that we had a whole day together; after dropping the kids, she had a doctor's appointment in Easton, and then the day was free. So we hung out, visiting stores, walking around the town (which is lovely), and stopping to have lunch at a pub.

We had some pretty serious talks; she thinks I'm smart and that I have style. ;) She told me things that she has not told other people and now I need to decide whether to share some of the information or keep it close to the vest. I pressed her to take better care of herself when she exercises; she would go for long periods after exercising with no nutritional intake, so I suggested a protein bar (for which we shopped later) within 30 minutes of a workout. I kind of wonder whether her long hours between workouts and food intake may have had something to do with the stroke; her body was starving and shutting down. So far as I know, she has been following my prescription.

A funny thing happened at the doctor's office; she walked up to the window to sign in, and an older man sitting in the waiting room spoke to her, "My, you must work out!" Flirty old guy!!! But my MIL loved it and you could tell it made her feel good.

I am hoping for more days like that with her because, like I said, she is more open and free without a household milling about and I can understand that. I am, too. It was a good day.

Speaking of in-laws, my father-in-law, who is also my husband's partner in our business, has suggested more than a few times that we move to Maryland to take over the company while he enters a semi-retired state. We almost moved to Maryland in 2003, I think it was, but my husband and I couldn't agree on whether to build new or buy an older home. Can you guess which I wanted? Anyway, it didn't work out and we stayed here and eventually brought the business downtown via a small office on William Street.

That's worked out fine, until now. We really want to stay here because we've put down such strong roots in the community. My husband with his soccer leagues and his extensive work with the Spotsylvania Greenways Initiative (http://spotsylvaniagreenways.org/) and me with my house concerts and my art. Elliott with school, soccer, and a network of friends that stretches far and wide. The fact that my older children are here also enhances the argument for staying; hope we can come up with a good compromise or just sell out.

I think my husband would rather get on a boat and sail away (temporarily). Hard decisions and so much at stake on both sides.

The summer days have been grand here, so much so that we rarely use our air conditioning. The sounds of summer wafting in the windows are my favorites. They're a reminder of the past, when those same sounds found me growing up in a different location.

We finished our patio, well, I should say, my husband did. We had friends and relatives help and I'm so grateful, especially because I can look at certain sections and know they were done by Lois or Tanya or Tommy or Amy or Elliott or Ryan. Gary did the bulk of it. After my red-ant attack, I was skittish to get that close and personal with it again. Those ants are stealth; they were up my legs (all the way to my upper thigh on both legs) and I didn't know it until the next day when these ugly welts started making their appearance. While the books say to leave the welts alone, I took them off. Yes, I will probably be scarred for life now, but I'll just have to deal with it. It's been a month and they still itch. So watch out for them if you're working in the yard, okay?

Ah, the house is stirring, so I think I'll sign off and do another post either later today or early next week. I've already started packing the camper for our Cape Cod trip; that's how excited I am for that bit of fun. More later.

The Sun Comes Back

2011-07-06T11:51:00.000-04:00

Reflecting on old blog posts that came as a result of a conversation with a friend on Facebook. We were asking ourselves the question of why it is so hard to take care of one's self first before helping others. We realized that old habits die hard, that women are usually the more nurturing of the genders, and that nurturing others first is what we were taught.

Unfortunately, it can have dire consequences. In my mother's case, she was not taken seriously enough when she was diagnosed with heart problems and died at a very young age (43). I am ten years older than she was when she died and yet, I don't take my meds when I should and so am following in her footsteps. My doctor, quite seriously this time, said I needed to take the medications, so I am.

This conversation with my friend led to a review of old posts because she mentioned that we had both posted blogs with the subject of nurturing.

Wow, what a trip that was to go back and read just a few of those posts. I was a lot more prolific in those days as I had a freakin' lot more to say and no real strong outlets. Today, I have a great therapist/healer in Liz and a husband who is happy to be a part of that process that has helped the both of us so much.

I skipped over to a private blog I had started quite a while ago and was surprised, again, to find such caring comments and advice from my friends. This blog was opened to very few folks, but the outpouring was huge. It warmed my heart to read those posts and comments and to know that those folks are among those I still call friends. Now there are other friends with whom I have had face-to-face conversations during those tumultuous years, too, and a few are no longer in my personal realm, but those who have stayed and endured are folks I would do anything for at any time.

It is good to be reminded, even in rehashing over painful times, that you do come through to the other side and most usually, with the help of your friends (and family). I am thankful to be reminded of the continuity of love and friendship and to know that it never dies.

It's a Good Thing

2011-06-16T10:36:00.004-04:00

How is it the middle of June and I haven't written a blog in more than a month? Impossible!

Not really. Having been in semi-isolation for a while, the sun has brought me back out to play.

Taking a more active role in caring for my great-niece has filled many wonderful hours; it is amazing how easily involved I can get in caring for a baby again. Problem is I get immersed; there does not seem to be any middle ground. But I love it and my family puts up with it, so all is good.

I truly understand now, though, how adopting a baby is really not at all much different than birthing one. Granted, there are the physical manifestations of birth, but the love that occurs can be just as strong. I don't think I fully understood it until I held little Vanessa in my arms and she was put into my care for the first time. Sure, some of the anxiety of caring for a baby rose up, but the outpouring of love was huge and has affected so many other parts of my relationship life. All you adoptive parents out there: You totally rock!!!!

Slowing down has been helpful in regaining my balance; I had burned myself out on winter musical events and as wonderful as they were, I received a nice wake-up call. My house concerts are extremely important to me, but I don't have to say yes to every artist who contacts me to have a show, no matter how hard that is for me to do. I have decided to have fewer concerts, some at new locations, and really savor each experience instead of only thinking of the one that comes next. Some of these events will be entirely private events, which will make them even more special, bringing in new folks to the folk fold.

Reconnecting with family close and far has also kept me busy; realizing that as much as I love socializing with friends that my family needs to come first sometimes. That has been joyous in the simplicity of the notion. The time spent with my kids, my husband, little Vanessa, and others has taken priority over any idea that I needed to be out and about and on the scene, as it were. Maybe it is age, or maybe my neurofeedback is really kicking in, calming me to the point where I am more satisfied with the way things are every day.

The internet is an amazing tool for bringing people together; today, I am "friends" with my cousin, Stephanie K., who lives in Germany. I have never met Stephanie, as she was born after my last visit to Germany, which was in 1974. Last year, she became the mother of Leni. It was then that I knew not another year could go by without going to see my family; this August, we will be meeting up with my Uncle Hans and Tante Christine in Munich for the first time in 37 years. I'm very nervous, mostly because I know it will be an emotional time, but still super excited to be repaving a path to connect anew with this distant family. I know it would make my mother happy.

Birthdays have come and gone; there are so many Geminis in my life and we are celebrating heartily this month. My father, me, my daughter, closest friends. All happy to still be of this earth and a year older. Doesn't get much better than that.

Building a patio in the back yard, a slow process, especially because we had so much rain at the beginning of the project. Friends and relatives have been helping and it makes me happy to know that this is a "community" project and that folks will be joining us for BBQs and shrimp boils knowing that they have a stone in the foundation.

One of the things I have had a lot of fun on is a page on Facebook dedicated to growing up in Woodbridge, VA, in the 1970s. I had been worrying deeply that my memory was slipping, and yes, short-term things are not so good, but this page has opened up so many old memories. I find myself reading about things I thought I had forgotten and actually laughing out loud.

Seeing where folks are now in their lives is very cool; we've lost a lot of folks along the way, but it seems we are mostly in a good place. Even something as simple as remembering the dirt road with deep ruts where it was a challenge to get your car through without damage brings a smile. Tears come when you hear of someone's death. But the laughs are more and even surprise that some of us have lasted this long.

I've discovered new places to eat owned by folks from that area, found out that I missed out on some really great adventures--like visiting graveyards or old crypt sites. The hairs on the back of my neck go up reading those entries, but we were kids; we thought we were invincible and immortal. But sometimes I was just too scared.

I am so thankful for the opportunity to open up new doors of communication and share in our precious memories of growing up in a time of few electronics, much more outside time, racing around in cars, sneaking into the drive-in, playing in drain pipes and getting the bejesus scared out of us, long walks down dusty roads, buying candy at the corner store. We've all gotten older. But we all realize what a good time we had back in the 'hood. Those experiences have made us who we are today.

This summer has started with a bang; Elliott is now a seventh grader. We celebrated my daughter's birthday on Monday with a family dinner. Love those guys! Went sailing the next day with E and some of his friends. Gorgeously wonderful day with great wind and the beach was perfect for their explorations! Got home early the next morning, and, on three hours' sleep, got in a car with my daughter and her sister-in-law and set off for Virginia Beach. Made a new friend and had the perfect beach day. Got my first burn of the year, even with sunscreen. Ooops! The day could not have been much better; well, only if beach boys were serving those fruity drinks with umbrellas in them!!!

Going camping at a music festival with some girlfriends this weekend; so looking forward to just kicking back and hearing some of my faves play (Beaucoup Blue) and meeting lots of new music-loving people. Thankful for my friends who are willing to accompany me on this adventure.

So, even though the new year started out on the quiet side, it did give me time for reflection and introspection. I needed it, obviously, and have been savoring that time in a new way. Some people become afraid by being "depressed" and "down," but if it leads to a new awareness, then I will continue to welcome those times and open the doors to what they may bring.

I hope your day is like the blossom of a flower, opening to the day unafraid and free.

Mother's Day

2011-05-09T09:58:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was Mother's Day, a day which is bittersweet for me because of my own mother's death thirty years ago the day before Mother's Day. Ever since, I've dwelled on that sadness and really hated the day and would do anything else but celebrate in a normal way. Found out that one of my sisters has been in the same mode of thinking all these years, too.

Finally let that go and realized that it was okay again to celebrate the day, though "created" holidays really bother me. And to me, Mother's Day is an oxymoron because EVERY day is Mother's Day if you have ever had a child or nurtured one.

My daughter visited me on Saturday to present me with some beautiful flowers and an especially poignant and meaningful card. She's my joy and light and that mother-daughter bond, even though dented a bit over the years, has never been broken. I hope she knows how much she means to me.

I am sharing the card's message because it is so strong and hopeful:

My Mother's Daughter

I am all of the experiences we've shared
and each of the things I've done on my own.

I am the stories we've read in books
and the ones written in my heart.

I am the traditions passed down through the years
and the new ones picked up along the way.

I am my mother's daughter,
different from her,
and yet the same,
and I can't think of anyone else
I'd rather be, Mom.

In loving memory of my own mother, Margitta Maria Albert Newman (1936-1980) and all those who came before, and all those who follow after, especially my daughter, Amy, who will be a wonderful mother to her own children.

Passover Magic

2011-04-19T12:07:00.011-04:00

Ever since it happened, I've been working things around in my head in an attempt to get the words on paper, or in this case, virtual paper. You know when something happens that is indescribable and yet you want so badly to share it, but the words just won't come?

That's what happened to me on Saturday and yet, here I am, bumbling along to share what I can of the experience.

All day Friday, I had been in the kitchen preparing a Passover-ish meal for my husband and his family. It was Passover-"ish" because Passover wasn't until Tuesday and my husband is quite particular about these celebrations; he doesn't like to celebrate things not on their regular date. So, we would not have the readings, the wine, the plate. But we would have good food (because that's how I roll).

I have been a non-attendee at most recent family celebrations of the religious kind, first of all, because I am not Jewish (duh) and second of all, because these gatherings started feeling like a contest to win snaps. It was intimated a few years ago that someone in the family may have felt a little less about me because I was less learned in the ways of the Jew. Upset and hurt by that at first, it did take me a while to get over it and put the anxiety back where it belonged. And there it rests.

So, Friday was a new venture for me. Besides hosting the family at our house (a rare occurrence), I was also preparing all the food. What was interesting is that I never thought about impressing someone except for my husband. Seriously. I know, it's me we're talking about here. Bring attention to myself? Who? Me? Never? Ha!!!

Anyway, I worked with that in my heart and it is amazing how well the day went; from shopping for the ingredients (only could not find chicken schmaltz), to prep work, to the actual preparation of the dishes. I was a machine, efficient and cleaning as I went.

The main new dish was homemade gefilte fish; now, anyone who knows anything about the gefilte fish that comes in jars might understand how I did not want the gelatinous mess served at my table. Yes, I am a gefilte fish snob. I would love to know how the process came about that this would be the desired fish product to be served on Passover tables. From delicious homemade fish spam (that's what I call it) to balls of ground fish sealed in fish gel. Urp!

Fast forward into the evening and the fish loaf comes out of the oven and my husband is jumping up and down waiting for a taste. He takes a forkful and smiles beatifically. I told him then that all the work was worth it for that result. And I meant it.

Saturday dawns and after my son's birthday party at a sports facility, people trickle back to my house for the Pre-Passover Partakings. My father-in-law came first with my mother-in-law (who retired for a nap because she wasn't feeling well). He sat in the living room while I potschke'd around the kitchen.

When I had five minutes, I made a business (house concert) phone call that I had been putting off for no good reason. I sat outside on the deck while I talked to BB, who is coming to do a show in October of this year. Now, BB has been around a while; he's a big burly man in his 70s, a vibrant energy force. I remember being absolutely spellbound during one of the stories he told at a concert last year--time and space were gone, all of us in that room were just "being" together. He had us in the palms of his hands. It was unforgettable.

After the particulars and details of October's show were hammered out, he asked if he could bend my ear for another five minutes. Of course, I said yes, as I love his voice and his lyrical way of speaking. He could read a cereal box and have you mesmerized.

He began relating a story in prose style, his voice lifting and swaying and moving like the spring trees in my back yard as they were jostled about by the breeze. I won't relate the story here in the hopes that you will be in the audience in October to hear it in person. It was a heartfelt and thoughtful story, full of memories, sadness, and love for music and those who performed it. It was a story of carrying on in the face of adversity, using the tools you've picked up or were given along the way. It was a story of acceptance and letting the magic happen.

At the end of the story, he paused, maybe waiting for my reaction, or maybe settling back down into his reality.

I burst into tears.

Oh, but what happy tears they were, even though I had a hard time choking it out, I told him that he had given me a most wonderful gift of that story, as I sat on my deck looking at the blooming dogwoods and new spring buds of leaves and flowers and the deeper, darker woods beyond. For some reason, his words lifted me up to where I needed to be to get through the day. I was taken out of my simple being for that time and shown that there is a different way and I was going to do my best to live it, even if for just one day.

As I sit here relating this, I realize that the moment cannot be captured in a way that truly makes sense and conveys the depth of gratitude I feel. And I wonder if it was even his words at all that made the magic happen; I rather think it was his act of sharing something so personal and full and real and heartbreaking and spiritual. Maybe that was the best gift of all and why the tears flowed; for all of this, I am grateful.

Diagnosis for Life

2011-04-13T10:10:00.005-04:00

After receiving a formal diagnosis of asthma (no longer just reactive, but the real deal) and continual problems with high-blood pressure and also requests for tests that I'm not excited about getting, I am realizing that time is of the essence. I guess I always have thought about it, but haven't really acted on it as much as I should have. I need to get out and lasso that life force again and hold onto it tightly.

I enjoy my life, get to sleep in every day, read many novels, put on great musical shows, and have a family I thank my stars every day for having.

But, I've been feeling sluggish and the stay-at-home stuff, while good, has kept me from doing some really fun things. Nothing that would be life-changing, I'm sure, but still.

Travel plans for the summer are shaping up; we'll be doing our annual Cape Cod camping extravaganza with a whole great gaggle of friends in July. We plan on leaving out a bit early to visit a friend in Erie and check out Niagara Falls (the second time for Gary and me, this will be Elliott's first visit). Then it's off to Nickerson! If you come a'callin', I'll be a'floating on the pond.

But during this winter down time (or recharging, I am hoping), I started thinking about family and the disconnects that have occurred over the years. I've been doing a lot of work with family on this side of the Pond, but what about on the other side?

Many people don't know that I have relatives in Germany; my mother's brother, his wife and their daughter (the daughter I have never met and she's my daughter's age!!).

My solo trip to France a few years ago started this reconnection journey. It was wonderful and teary all at the same time when I saw my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower on the bus ride to the metro from the airport. Then when I finally went to the top and viewed all of Paris from the lookout, I realized that I had really missed so much by not coming here on a more regular basis. We used to come to Paris when I was younger (early 60s) to visit the sites and markets from our little town of Etrepy (southeast of the city). The best memories!

Then, because of the generosity of my landlord's daughter, who lived in the city, I did finally get back to that little farming town. Seeing the sign brought me to tears again and the time we spent there was short, but so fulfilling. Saw my old house, the wash house (really a fountain below ground) where the women in the village (including my mother) would wash clothes by hand, and the crumbling, but still beautiful church. That visit was just what I needed.

So, nervously, last month I wrote my Uncle Hans a letter, telling him we would love to come visit this summer. Now I have done this before, many years ago, and did not follow through, but this time it felt different and my intentions were honorable.

I didn't hear back and I didn't hear back. I feared the worst, that he had died or relocated. Longevity in the generations has decreased with the younger folks in my family; my mother and her sister died young. Hans was the only child left of Georg and Kunigunde. I was worried.

Finally, two weeks ago, there came an airmail letter from Munich. Uncle Hans was alive and well, as his wife (who is only three years older than me--what??), and his daughter Stef. Bad news was that my very funny Uncle Edi had died some time back.

The great news is that my Uncle is a first-time grandfather at the age of 65; his daughter had a baby girl this past winter. She'd been married for about seven years and she and her husband, Alexander, have a child named Leni. Hans said she is very cute and looks like her grandfather(!). That did it; we were absolutely going. There are now two generations that I have not met there and, like I said, time is of the essence. I may not be of this earth next year, Hans may not be, and as nervous as I am to see them, the healing will be great and intense.

You see, my mother's early death drove a wedge into my heart and our family and I think one of the reasons that I have not gone back to Germany (since I was 16) is that the truth of her being gone and all the loss that has occurred since then will become super real for me. Can you understand that? I swear, just thinking about it now brings tears.

I know my mother is gone and has been for 30 years, but when I step on Germany's ground and see Hans and his family, then I will really know and will have to accept all that has happened (good and bad) that makes this life so very, very much a roller-coaster ride. I will visit the graves of those who have gone on before me and make my love for them known again. I will visit the places where my parents courted (and probably where I was conceived) on the river near the Army base where he was stationed.

I will also visit Dachau and other places of death (and rebirth!) with Gary so that he can reconnect with those of his people who suffered so much at the hands of Hitler. Germany is a place that is timeless, that has gone through so much growing and changing, too, and we will be bringing memories and making them at the same time.

It is important to have something to look forward to in this life.

Turning in My Overalls

2011-03-29T12:52:00.006-04:00

I have formally retired as a farmer. I did really well for my time. From a very small plot, I amassed acres and acres of land, many types of animals, had fruit orchards, and all types of vegetables in my gardens. I never slaughtered any animals for meat, even at Thanksgiving. The cows, chickens, sheep, goats, and chickens created a nice atmosphere at my farm. I made my own wine and other beverages for our own and others' consumption. I sold vegetables at a stand at the edge of my property. I shared flowers with my friends to beautify their own farms. I had millions of dollars in the bank. Yes, it was a good run.

But real life gets in the way of fantasy and I had to let the farm go. Farmville took up a good portion of every day of my life for a long time; my son and I played together at the beginning. That's when it was most fun, except when he gave away all my farm dollars! He learned a lesson in economics that day! Had to take him out behind the barn for that one.

He helped me harvest, plant, and we decided together to mechanize the farm when it grew too big for the two of us to handle alone. Yes, it was a good run. I kept saying that I would quit at the next level, but one day, I knew it was just over and left the farm, never to come back. I know everything will live on in virtual reality forever, so there were no tears and no regrets.

What have I done with all my free time since Farmville's demise?

Cleaned out four closets;
cleaned out and reorganized the master bath;
cleaned out and reorganized the back porch;
cleaned out, threw out, gave away, and reorganized the shoes in my shoe closet;
cleaned out and reorganized my pantry;
cleaned out and reorganized my herb/spice cabinet;
reorganized my linen closet; and
cleaned out and reorganized my refrigerator.

And that was in the first week.

Now all I need to do is figure out how to control those crazy flocks of Angry Birds!

Dinner with Friends

2011-03-24T22:32:00.002-04:00

Sitting around a dining table of friends the other night and really enjoying myself when I was struck with a random thought. There were three adults at the table and, in the recent past, I have been in a rough emotional spot with all three of them. And yet, here I was, enjoying a fine meal with good conversation and lots of laughter.

There were no regrets and no hard feelings, just a strong urge to pick up and move back towards each other. I had to think for a moment why I was able to be in that situation and function happily and normally. Then I realized it was that I had done the hurt (even though the intentions could never be explained for at least one of them, but understandably communications and misunderstandings were to blame at most for the other two).

What surprised me in these cases is that we could move on and continue to enjoy each others' company even when hurts had been visited upon the relationship from a medium flare-up to the most heinous. This speaks most about who these people are and their constitution and strength.

When someone hurts me, now that is a different story. I am not so easy for forgive or forget. Especially when much-needed apologies are not forthcoming and/or other petty issues arise in a discussion that only confirm that there are deep-seated issues that really have nothing to do with me, except for the hurt I feel, which is my problem and my problem only.

In these cases before me, it had taken a while, but I was able to tell each person that I was sorry for my actions or feelings that had botched up our relationship. With one of the friends, who is misunderstood by more than a few folks, her caring was evident when we talked, with me stammering over the words so needed to heal the friendship. She made it easy for me, thankfully.

The other friend and I had a misunderstanding over how much one friend should tell another in times of relationship crisis. At the time, I thought that doing nothing was the smart thing and it was not. I am sorry that I did not have the courage to have the hard talk that needed to be had.

The other person and I go way back and because of my own inner demons and hurt child, I tossed him to the curb when I was most vulnerable and angry with myself. A long path back started with one step on both sides; we're still walking on that journey.

I am thankful for these people in my life who, by their own generosity of spirit and love, have shown me that relationships that have had a hard knock or two can be healed and be stronger than ever. Those are the relationships that I will hold dear. Those are the relationships that will make me a better person in the long (long,long) run.

I am thankful for their patience and teaching.

The New UU Chalice from Lee R.

2011-03-20T11:16:00.002-04:00

Allergic to Sex? Or Just a Little P*ssy??

2011-03-18T15:12:00.010-04:00

So, the other night my hubs and I got into bed after watching a family movie and tucking our tween into his own bed. We settled down, pulled up the covers, and started canoodling a little bit when, all of a sudden, both of us started sneezing and wheezing, hacking and coughing. Gasping for air and trying to catch our breaths, it was as if we both were having full-blown asthma attacks.

He seemed to recover quickly and was soon sleeping with his soft snoring as background music. It took hours for my lungs to calm down. I kept listening to the snap, crackle, and pop of my airways as they seized up with every attempted breath. Sounded like a little imp was in my chest cracking tissue paper. Just a month before, I had scared the heck out of my husband because I could not stop the really hard and painful coughing that usually accompanies such an attack. It was not a pretty sight to see and we briefly contemplated an emergency room visit.

We get into bed again last night and he leans his head on my chest and !hack! !hack! !cough! !cough! -- it all starts again.

Now I'm starting to get nervous. I have put on more than a few pounds and am getting a little rounder: Okay, I'm getting FAT! Is that what's going on? Was I no longer sexy? Were we BOTH having allergic reactions to the extra poundage?

It was then that my husband informed me that he had found one of our cats on the bed the other day; that Maxwell (the cat) must have snuck in the house (both our cats are outdoor cats) and he was found smack-dab in the middle of the bed, content as can be and very unwilling to move. Seems like a bit of cat-wrestling went on and so I can only imagine the amount of hair and dander that were flung willy-nilly onto the bed covers, the sheets, the pillowcases, and into the carpeting, with every footstep stirring it up more and more into the air. Guess we're both allergic to the kitties!

So today I stripped the bed, vacuumed, wiped down surfaces, and opened windows in the hopes of clearing the air in the bedroom.

If my plans works, someone may be getting a little lucky tonight--bad kitty--RAWR!

Out with the Old . . . just out with the old!

2011-03-14T12:16:00.005-04:00

I don't know why this happens when the weather turns, albeit briefly, to sunny days and mild weather, but I get crazy to organize things in my house. Why can't I be normal and just wash my car?

In the past few days, I've cleaned out and reorganized my pantry. That was a joy because there was no ORDER to the chaos. I don't mind chaos, as long as there is order to it and there was none!

It's a good thing that I suited up and went in to the de-foodie zone; old snacks and chips went flying out the door, stuck-together candies were deep sixed, out-of-date packages were terminated, and thank goodness for that, because I think the veggie sausage mix from 1996 (yes, you read that right) was about to implode!

Like items were grouped together and now I won't be buying doubles and triples of the same damned honey mustard because now I can see that we have one already!

Moving on to my spice cabinet was a natural progression; I was so mad recently when I did not have bay leaves for my homemade chicken soup. Well, guess WHAT? I DID have bay leaves; I just couldn't see them for the fact that they were no longer in their place in the alphabetized spice world. I think I made some sort of weird dinosaur sound when I found them . . . .

The other good thing about getting around to the spices (and baking products) is that I have freed up a whole section of cabinets. This will come in handy when the kitchen renovation actually takes place, which, as we plod along every so slowly, may be a postmortem exercise in futility. All of my baking products are together on one shelf; all of my spices are on one shelf; all of my teas are on one shelf. It feels good.

This morning when I decided to make veggie sausage gravy and cats head biscuits (no cats were harmed in the making of these biscuits!), I found everything I needed at my fingertips and the process was so much easier. And the biscuits were awesome!!!!

I have always said I wanted a functional, cook's kitchen. Granted, a nice reno would be very nice, but maybe just organizing first will keep me from going insane (well, any more than I already am).

I am so excited that I may have to expand into the bathroom cabinets; gosh, my life is so good!

Favorite Blogs

2011-03-14T11:39:00.004-04:00

Someone asked the general Facebook audience the other day to give her a list of their favorite blogs. Some interesting suggestions came up and I've started following a few that I'd known about for a long time, so I appreciate that she asked the question.

Her question got me to thinking about what components make up a good blog, well, at least in my humble opinion.

If I wasn't me and I found my own blog, I probably would not read it right away. First of all, it is always too long. I am not into brevity as a writer. I find it very hard to limit my words, though it would probably be a great exercise for me to undertake.

And, second, I don't have a lot of humor in my writing. I love it when people do use it and make it work, but usually humor gets in the way of any real message and I like message blogs. One fine example of a writer who combines both is here: http://wouldashoulda.com/2011/03/14/home-alone/

A mom writing about her family? Are you kidding me? No, she's good, real good. You can tell she's good because she usually has about fifty comments within minutes of posting her newest rant. Good work.

A storyteller friend, Megan, writes gloriously beautiful and I never tire of either hearing her in person or reading her work. Read for yourself and if you're ever near a venue where she is going to be telling, check her out for yourself. She's one of the best you'll ever hear! http://meganhicks.wordpress.com/

Another favorite is that of my potter friend, Dan Finnegan. Now talk about a man of few words! His blogs are always concise, well-written, and clear, followed with very good photos of his work. You can find his blog here: http://www.danfinneganpottery.blogspot.com/

http://boyfriendplease-sailorgrl.blogspot.com/

This blog belongs to a cousin in Maryland, who had been navigating the on-line dating world for a few years when she met and friended a special man. That relationship has blossomed, so her posts aren't quite as edgy as before, but I learn something about the human psyche every time I read one of her posts. She's upfront and honest and I like her writing style. And I also get to vicariously race sailboats just by reading about it through her posts.

This Richmond writer kills me every time with her posts; I met her when she came to our Fellowship to speak. She was a minister affiliated with the Richmond UU. She knocked our socks off with her common-sense approach to well, everything, but mostly just about getting people in our doors. I laugh out loud more with this blog than any other I have read. I also cry more. She is a writing talent to be reckoned with and is just a very cool person to boot. http://acmiles.blogspot.com/2011/02/talking-sex-with-kids.html

My friend Emily has some interesting faves: http://thebhj.com/ and http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/ Emily's blog is also cool, but I'm not going to share it here unless she tells me that I can.

Crazy stuff, but wildly interesting and sometimes disturbing, which is good, I guess, because most blogs are horrid and it is good to find some that are outstanding either in their quality of content or weirdness.

So, yeah, I like being entertained, but I also like to go deep and I think some of my reading blogs are like that. They can be challenging at times and emotional, but they work and work well.

Do you have favorite blogs? Do you want to share them?

Breakthrough

2011-03-13T22:05:00.007-04:00

"...fear is one of the main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom." -- Bertrand Russell

Sometimes it is the most simple of things that can change your life; for me, it was a suggestion from my husband to have a "Be Nice to Gary" day.

I know, it seems juvenile. It seems too easy. It seems so damned contrived. But you know, sometimes you need to tweak the brain a bit for it to change. Trick it, even. In this case, it seems to be working.

We had just come off a very rough week; I seriously wanted to just walk away from it all. All the work we'd been doing over the years seemed to be taking us backwards; I felt angry. He felt angrier. Disappointment and heartache was running rampant.

I insisted that if he and I did not work on our issues with our individual family members that we would get nowhere. Me with my always unhappy complaining father, my overwhelmed stepmother, my sisters who are still angry about my mother's death and the family rifts that have occurred since she died. Him with his sibling rivalry, mother's mental issues, and father's inability to give praise. (These are just generalizations, but the issues are real.)

One day, a snarky response to something I questioned led to many days of discomfort. Finally, the hubs decided to create the "Be Nice" day. It kind of worked. It was uncomfortable not to snipe at him like I usually do, but I worked to not be critical (well, AS critical) as our normal day might entail. And he worked hard to take the things I said in their context, rather than running off with hurt feelings.

The next day, we had a very intensive session with our Zengar (neurofeedback) therapist, who helped us see the good work that we had done over the years and explained that what we are doing is groundbreaking and not always successful in "normal" ways.

It takes a long time to change the way we are raised and the thoughts our brains have gotten used to over the years. The brain is strong and will fight back to keep the continuity. An amazingly resilient organ, the brain has to be led to the flexibility trough slowly if you want it to drink without fear.

I have decided that fear is the most dangerous four-letter word in the English language. I know I've said it before and it is still true; fear leads to all sorts of self-doubt, criticisms, no confidence, low self-esteem. To pick oneself back up from being in these dark places takes a lot of time, especially since we are choosing not to go the medical route.

People who choose medicine alone as their treatment do themselves a great disservice; they are leaving out half of the equation as to who they are, why they are, and how they can change. Our families are important parts of that equation, too, and it is absolutely necessary to look back at our upbringing to find the clues as to who we are now on our way to discovering who we really are meant to be. That's why it is called a journey--we start to realize that we don't have to have this excess baggage any longer and that we can move beyond what we thought our bounds were and had been shaped by familial influences.

So, when I said we had to get our individual family problems taken care of, I was right, but not in the right context. The way to get those relationships right would have to be in our own heads. We cannot change the way someone feels about us, especially when they don't know themselves and it shows by their acting out. What we need to do is decide not to let them push our buttons anymore; everyone in my familial sphere had been successful at that for a long time, but only because I LET them.

In turning this corner, that will happen with less frequency, and definitely not with the intensity that I have allowed for so many years. I can see them and their actions so much more clearly and I know that no matter who would be in my position in both families, the problems would have still been there. The way out is the way in and as has been so clearly posited in many ways during the past couple of weeks--you can't help anyone else until you help yourself.

Epic Failure Brings Blessed Results

2011-03-06T23:27:00.006-05:00

Clay has not been my friend lately. Well, maybe I should say my hands and my head have not been my friends. I had been working on a chalice for my Fellowship and three times out of three had epic fails; not thinking the design through clearly enough or making the piece too flimsy so that one false move created a domino effect of destruction.

So, I put the idea aside in my head and decided to chill.

During the chill time, the UUFF had acquired a new member, dear L. L is an awesome person, hugely talented, very smart, and seeking his own spiritual truth. One day, when I was feeling especially frustrated with my own art, I playfully suggested that he take on the chalice challenge because of his art, which is working with metal. Usually used in more commercial applications, I had a feeling that he could create something special.

I can't say that my conversation with him was inspiring or whether someone else approached him afterwards, but L took on the challenge and created a beautiful piece of art for our Fellowship community.

Today was the dedication service for his creation; I wish I'd thought of taking a picture, but I will post one soon.

It's beautiful, it's flowing, it's green because it burns olive oil, and it is not perfect. But it is perfect for us because as the Quakers say, "Only God is perfect." And while a lot of UUs do not believe in God (me among them), I like that the Quakers, famous for their quilts, always sew in a mistake into their work because it is a symbol of how they live by the "Only God is Perfect" credo.

L was the first person, as its creator, to light the chalice and the glow warmed the room.

A smaller person, of which I am incredibly talented at being, would have felt a little burned by the fact that someone else's chalice was sitting where their creation should have been. I had a talk with another person after service who had to wrestle with those same feelings because she originally was going to buy and donate a similar work. But we found that with such a gift as L's comes a conscious feeling that those negative thoughts are ungrounded and unwanted.

It was a time to join in the community in welcoming the new symbol to our hall and accept it graciously with the affection and love with which it was given. And it was.

Five-in-Five

2011-03-06T22:54:00.006-05:00

Whirlwinded, exhausted, and truly satisfied. I can't ask for much more after the five weeks I've just been through.

For the past five weeks, I've have either organized or been a part of an event every weekend. And, while a bit nerve-wracking, it has been a BLAST!

At the beginning of March, Caleb Hawley's show brought more than 100 people out to the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Fredericksburg (UUFF) for a show that had us dancing in the aisles. Joined onstage by Rachel Platten and Craig Meyer, the place rocked! A first for me was having all three of them spend the night at my house. Rachel went back to the house with E and G, while the two guys went out on the town. I met up with them at a local nightspot where Caleb said he heard the best guitarist he'd ever heard. Kudos for the 'burg!

The second weekend brought an annual fundraiser for Fredericksburg Counseling Services, on whose board I serve. Sequins and silk abounded as friends gathered at the Hospitality House for a night of sweets, savories, and great music from the Fredericksburg Big Band. Strictly Ballroom owner and instructor Michael and his wife provided dance lessons and showed us, in so many beautiful ways, how dance is good for the soul. It was a very successful evening!

The third weekend, my friends Connie and Don opened their house once again to a traveling minstrel. This time, Pierce Pettis brought his unique brand of music to us and wowed us all with his wonderful guitar work and seriously thoughtful and intelligent songwriting skills. The man is a master; as it was my first time hearing him live, I am thankful that my friend Sam recommended him because I listen to his music all the time now. The next morning, we met for brunch at our local FOODE restaurant, shared a great meal, took a few campy pics, and bid a fond farewell. I will miss that goofy guy!

Week four brought a classical pianist the likes of which I had never seen nor heard before in my life! Victor Goldberg's hands flew like so many white birds over the keys and brought magic to the room. We had a standing-room only crowd and everyone was mesmerized, even the younger people and small children. What I like about Victor is that he is a very accessible person and, after the concert ended (he played several encores), he signed CDs and talked to people for almost an hour. It was a great night!

Just last night culminated the five-in-five with another house concert at which Nashville veteran songwriter Craig Bickhardt regaled us with stories and song. When I introduced him to the houseful of folks, I mentioned that there are several things that draw me to choosing someone to play my series. First off is the initial communication, whether it is from the agent or the artist him/her self. Larry Ahearn, manager extraordinaire, wrote me a fine letter which exuded with professionalism. Granted, I know that not every independent artist can have such a resource at their disposal, but those first letters are important. Well, and I digress, when Caleb Hawley first contacted me via e-mail last June, he wrote a sweet and succinct note that belied his age, but showed his professionalism very clearly. Artists who address me with a "Hey you!" are probably not going to get beyond the round file.

Second, I look at their body of work and then, third, I listen; Craig's music made me happy and I wanted to share it with as many people as I could. Granted, one or two songs could bring a tear, but I was still happy.

So Craig told us great stories about just a few of the artists he's worked with over the years; Kenny Rogers, Kathy Mattea, Johnny Cash. A really enjoyable evening all around, which included getting to know his wife Eileen and son Jake, who is a huge civil war enthusiast--hope they were able to dodge the rain long enough to get some tours in today downtown.

Larry stayed over and we sat around the kitchen table chatting for a while, eating coconut creme pie ice cream, and telling stories. Larry could be an entertainment entity all unto himself. He has had an amazing manager/promoter career, and I am sure I only heard the tip of the iceberg. He managed the Harlem Globetrotters for quite a few years and had quite the exciting time getting them through Asia, where short beds in hotel rooms had to be pushed together for the 6'8" American players.

This is just a part of the reason I do what I do; getting to meet new and fascinating people all the time. Sometimes it is the beginning of forging a long working relationship; sometimes you say goodbye and know it will be a while before your paths cross again.

So, I've got a few weeks before the next big show with Robbin Thompson which will be held at Raven Hi-Fi in downtown Fredericksburg. Then a whole month before Hans York comes to play on April 22.

Looking forward to both of them, but also looking forward to a little breathing room before the pace picks up again. Would I change anything about what I do? Possibly. Would I ever stop? Not voluntarily. Let's keep rockin' and rollin', y'all!!!

Enjoying My Fifteen Minutes . . .

2011-03-02T14:39:00.004-05:00

. . . maybe I can stretch it to 30, if I'm lucky.

Some good press from past events; there should be more in the April SNAP. So much thanks to Brandon and his crew, especially Mats, for coming to the events and sharing their photographic talent (and humor)! Much welcome in town as a photo-paper because SNAP snaps everyone; they are not discriminatory and don't care to compile a paper of the "who's who" of downtown. Very community oriented; welcome SNAP to the 'burg!

AND, best of all--WE MADE THE FRONT PAGE!!!!!

http://www.snapfred.com/index.php?option=com_sngevents&id[]=245161

Also, a heartfelt thanks to Rob at the Front Porch for what I thought was going to be a paragraph, but was a half page in his wonderful monthly city paper.

Really appreciate the shout-out about the five-in-five week events I've been involved with, either hosting or promoting or advising. It is my passion and I'm happy someone else recognizes it!

http://www.frontporchfredericksburg.com/pdf/March_2011.pdf

Check out page 6, but read it all, cover to cover, just like I do, every month!

Rob Brezsny Horoscope

2011-03-01T17:01:00.002-05:00

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): When Bob Dylan first heard the Beatles' *Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band,* he only made it through the first few tunes. "Turn that s--- off!" he said. "It's too good!" He was afraid his own creative process might get intimidated, maybe even blocked, if he allowed himself to listen to the entire masterpiece. I suspect the exact opposite will be true for you in the coming weeks, Gemini. As you expose yourself to excellence in your chosen field, you'll feel a growing motivation to express excellence yourself. The inspiration that will be unleashed in you by your competitors will trump any of the potentially deflating effects of your professional jealousy.

February Ruminations

2011-02-23T11:15:00.007-05:00

I can't recall a month like February of this year . . . ever! Exhilarating and wonderful, stressful and scary; it has all the components of a novel or a decent soap opera!

The most important thing to happen is that my oldest son did not die. Neither did my other children, and for that I am most grateful. My oldest son, his girlfriend, his cousin and the cousin's girlfriend, were all in their house during a carbon monoxide leak. During subsequent investigations and measurements, the gas rep who came out to the house does not know how they are alive today. He said in all his years of doing this type of work, he had never measured more than 200ppm in a house; they had more than 700ppm.

Frighteningly, I found out about this on Facebook because my son's girlfriend posted a note about it; I called my son immediately just to check on him and he was fine. The rep also told them that had anyone been asleep in the basement, there is no way they could have survived. Thank goodness for old, drafty houses. I really believe that's the only way they survived; of course, with thanks to the universe, who must believe they have not yet completed their jobs in these life forms. I am beyond grateful for whatever forces were in play that night to save the lives of these people that I love!

Music this month has been stupendous, but whoa! I do need a break! Five consecutive weekends with events (not all mine, but I am involved in all of them) and it's not over until after March 5th's going-to-be-awesome Craig Bickhardt concert.

First, we opened the month with Caleb Hawley; I love Caleb. A young musician with an amazing future ahead of him, he is so down to earth and real. He's a t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers kind of guy and that is what you get, day-in and day-out. And that is alright by me. He had me with his first communication; a well-written, polite, and sweet letter. That was back in June of 2010; we set a date and time went on.

What I didn't know in that break of time was that he had auditioned and got on television's "American Idol" show; typically, this would not be interesting to me, but because I had been listening to him for many months, I knew of the talent he had and was (and still am) rooting for him to keep going further and further. As a non-television watcher, I am grateful we took a week-long retreat at our cabin that has a television so that we could watch the two nights of American Idol and see how our fave was doing. He fared well and I predict good things will come of this exposure for him. Whether he moves even one step further in American Idol, and I think he will, those of us who knew of him before or who heard him recently in town, know he is a star already. Along with Rachel Platten and Craig Meyer, he brought down the house!

The second event was a fundraiser for Fredericksburg Counseling Services (FCS), on whose board I serve. It was a great night with dance lessons from Strictly Ballroom's owners accompanied by great music from the Fredericksburg Big Band. FCS is the area's only free clinic for mental health services, with the only two others in Virginia in the western part of the state. Kudos to the whole lot of us for pulling off such a great event! We raised a lot of money and awareness about who we are--can't ask for too much more than that.

Last weekend, Pierce Pettis graced us with his presence at a house concert in Spotsylvania. Pierce is what is called a "songwriter's songwriter" and the name is well-placed and well-earned. A friend of mine introduced his work to me and after this weekend, I am hooked. If CDs could wear out, I'd have grooves in mine already. Pierce's show was attended by a mostly new group of folks, and a lot of musicians. That alone tells me the respect he garners in the musical community; I don't usually have musicians come to the concerts I do, so that was a great testament to his body of work.

This weekend, I am helping to print a world-renowned Russian-born, Israeli concert pianist to the 'burg. I was enlisted to be an advisor by a very nice couple who are hosting Victor and his partner. We've put blurbs in newspapers, advertised on line, walked fliers all over town, taken many reservations, and we hope to have a standing-room only crowd. It is not often that our little hamlet is visited by such a dynamic, passionate musician as Victor and I'm very much looking forward to hearing him play live as just the videos of him playing give me goosebumps!

A week after that, Craig Bickhardt is coming to town. A Nashville veteran of 27 years, he has written for a veritable "Who's Who" of Nashville country music gentry. He is also known for his songwriting workshops. He also looks a lot like my host's husband and I can't wait to get them together for a side-by-side photo!

A few weeks off, and then Robbin Thompson comes to Raven Hi-Fi in downtown Fredericksburg. Robbin lives in Richmond and is involved with "In Your Ear" studios, which, besides being a great recording studio, also holds concerts in their studio for outsiders to come in and hear great music. I am looking forward to attending one of those concerts soon. Robbin is great live and has been playing music since the 1970s, when he was in Bruce Springsteen's original band, Steel Hill.

I am almost booked to the end of the year and I still am finding and contacting great musicians that I want to book; it just never ends and it is wonderful, but I so need a club! One show a week in a great listening room would be fantastic, but I know that on a fiscal level, that would never work as a typical arrangement.

Well, I am opening to everything now and waiting and watching to see how things fall. I have to remember that I may have to drop everything sometime soon to head out on the boat for months at a time, too, so I can't be too "anchored" to any one spot.

Letting out the sails some to see where I'm headed; coming to a port near you soon!

An Evening with Victor Goldberg

2011-02-22T21:01:00.001-05:00

World-renowned, multiple-award winning concert pianist Victor Goldberg is making a stop in Fredericksburg, Virginia, following critically acclaimed debuts at Carnegie Hall in New York City and the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C.

A distant relative of Vladimir Horowitz, Goldberg is a Horowitz International Competition Winner! He is " . . . an artist of smoldering intensity who reveals the very soul of the art . . . ."

Don't miss this great musical celebration!

Friday, February 25, 2011

Central Rappahannock Regional Library Theatre
1201 Caroline Street
Fredericksburg, Virginia 22401

7:00 - 10:00pm

Program for the evening:

Chopin Scherzo No. 2, Op. 31
Mozart Sonata No. 9, K. 311
Scriabin Sonata No. 5, Op. 53

Intermission

Brahms Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Handel, Op. 24

Join us for a gala reception following the concert. Seating is limited, so please RSVP before February 22.

Suggested donation: $18 - $40 per person

Please make your reservation early, as the venue is filling fast! Please call Clare at 540.899.2793

Pierce Pettis House Concert

2011-02-20T22:51:00.002-05:00

A wonderful musical month for House About Tonight Productions culminated in a visit from Pierce Pettis, a songwriter who is a superb songwriter. Before leaving town for another gig, a group of us got together at a local restaurant to share a meal. Wanting a promo shot afterwards, my friend Connie got this shot, but silly me, I forgot that the musicians (especially humorous ones) should be placed either by my side or in front of me so that no nutty shenanigans can go on without my knowing it. Ha. Actually, I really like this photo--me trying to look serious, and Pierce being, well, Pierce.

The Rest of 2011 in Music!

2011-02-07T10:52:00.003-05:00

What a great year of music so far, and it just gets better and better! Here's an updated list of upcoming acts and a list of those I am working on to firm up dates and venues!

February 19 -- Pierce Pettis, Spotsylvania (http://www.piercepettis.com)

March 5 -- Craig Bickhardt, Spotsylvania (http://www.craigbickhardt.com)

March 19 -- Robbin Thompson, Raven Hi-Fi, Fredericksburg (http://www.robbinthompson.com)

April 22 -- Hans York, Spotsylvania (http://www.hansyork.com)

May 17 -- Anthony da Costa, Raven Hi-Fi (http://anthonydacosta.com)

May 20 -- Brother Sun, Spotsylvania (http://www.brothersunmusic.com)

June, July, August -- tba

September 3 -- Kaci Bolls and Ben Glover, CD Release Tour, Spotsylvania (http://www.kacibolls.com)

September 24 -- The Taters, venue tba (http://www.thetaters.com)

October 22 -- Andrew McKnight, Spotsylvania (http://www.andrewmcknight.net)

November -- Bryan Bowers, date and venue not confirmed (http://www.bryanbowers.com)

December -- Beaucoup Blue, date and venue not confirmed (http://www.beaucoupblue.coom)

Continue to visit here to get updates as I get them; thanks for your support during these fascinating and fun years!

Gotta Love Good Press!

2011-02-05T21:42:00.002-05:00

Until I can come off my cloud from an unbelievably great show last night, here's what one of the attendees wrote about his experience!!! Whoo-hoo!

http://www.opticality.com/blog/2011/02/05/caleb-hawley-and-rachel-platten-at-unitarian-universalist-fellowship-of-fredericksburg

Also, look for photos of us in next month's issue of SNAP Magazine!

Today is Going to be Some Day!

2011-02-04T12:01:00.002-05:00

Getting a little anxious for tonight's show; this one is going to be crazy and crazy fun! I was already a bit nervous because of the popularity of the show, but then, yesterday's newspaper carried a big article in the Weekender section that was a total surprise to me. Caleb's publicist arranged it, which is cool, but the times are off by half an hour and it mentions nothing about RSVPing to the event.

We can only take about twenty more people; yikes! I guess that's not a bad problem to have. I am excited and by Sunday will be a blob of inactivity!

We even have the press coming to this show. I've decided that for every other house concert I'm going to have "American Idol" emblazoned somewhere on the poster. Of course, the small print might say something like, " . . . never heard of the show . . ." or " . . . his mom won't let him try out . . . ." Rather amazing what two words can do to a performer's life.

Looking forward to meet these young people coming in this evening; hugely talented and with seemingly good heads on their shoulders. Caleb will be staying over and hanging out with us tomorrow until he has to leave for a show a little further south from here. Rachel leaves Sunday for a tour of Singapore, so she and the percussionist Craig will be leaving earlier.

Working my way to a wonderful and uplifting night and then chilling big time tomorrow and Sunday! What a fun way to spend my life.

Got Mannequin?

2011-02-02T17:54:00.006-05:00

I love my town. Besides today being one of the warmest we've had for months, the people are just fantastic.

I spent a bit of time after my hair appointment picking up artwork and other donations being made to the Fredericksburg Counseling Services' Silent Auction for our annual fundraiser called "The Sweet Side." http://www.fcsagency.org/

This is an annual event where we get to dress up, dance to The Fredericksburg Big Band, enjoy sweets and savories, drink fine wine, and bid on wonderful auction items, several of which I picked up today.

A watercolor from an artist friend at Brush Strokes I got earlier in the day and ran into another friend, so we chatted a while and caught up. Then I walked posters around the town after that since I was already there and everyone that I ran into was so nice.

My niece offered some jewelry and the pieces are so perfect for the Valentine's Day theme. I am so grateful for the generosity of family and friends and strangers for this fundraiser. It shows me that Fredericksburg has its heart in the right place.

After distributing posters and picking up items, I went into Corky's to ask whether I could borrow one of their mannequins, just for the night of the gala. One of our Board members has a beautiful full-length fur coat and matching hat to auction off and we need a good way to display the coat. Corky didn't even blink and was ready to give me the one being used for display on the floor; he said I'd need to undress it first.

I asked whether he just had something old and not in use in the back and his mother thought they did, so I'll be going back next week to pick it up. So, if you're downtown next Thursday on Caroline Street and you see someone carrying a severely stiff naked female down the street to her car, that would be me. Make sure to say hello or honk your horn, why don't ya!

Okay, I Gave In

2011-02-02T03:18:00.001-05:00

Today I went to the doctor's office for my lungly issues! It was good to see my doctor again; I've been going to him for thirty years and knows absolutely everything about me; yikes! The really strange thing was finding out that I had not been to see him in four years--how the heck did that happen???

Anyway, a friend of mine who shall remain unnamed reamed me a new one the other day when she heard how long I've been sick, even though I told her this is my usual M.O. when it gets to this point. Didn't work, she said I must get to the doctor ASAP. My husband was hugely concerned, too, when a few of my coughing fits had him convinced I was going to suffocate; not good.

So I did; if you're wondering why I'm writing this post at 3 in the morning, it is because my meds adrenalize me so much that my heart is racing and my brain spinning. Prednisone, an antibiotic (yuck), an inhaler for emergencies, and what they call "the purple hamburger" - a two-a-day dosage inhaler to help get the lungs back to functioning properly again, and the ultimate slap, another round of blood pressure medication. He first put me on BP meds rather reluctantly years ago, saying that I really should be about ready to go to the hospital as I was a very likely candidate for a stroke. So. I. took. the. meds. But then I stopped.

I SO hate being on meds and my doctor knows it. I think I might have seen him smirking when he was writing out the plethora of scrips for me this morning. He knows that I'll go in there and say, "yeah, yeah, yeah" and then go home and do "no, no, no." But maybe this time I'll do better with them; he did not prescribe anything long-term for the asthma as we both think this is situational (bronchial and cold-weather), so hopefully that will be over in a week for two of the meds and a little while down the road for the others.

You think I would learn from my own family history that sometimes you just have to knuckle down and do what the doctor says. But I'm about as stubborn as they come, though I am thankful for a patient doctor (is that an oxymoron?) like the one I've had for so many years. And I will admit, besides being pumped up, I do feel better.

And I am ready to sing, "Let's Put on a Show" (a nod to Judy Garland and Mickey Rooney)!

Business Card Foibles

2011-02-02T01:53:00.003-05:00

Damn, damn, damn! I finally broke down and created some business cards for the concert promotion hobby that I love so much. The two boxes arrived a week after the order went in and I was (and still am) very excited. Besides passing them out left and right, I will have them at the concerts, too, for those folks who are not yet on my mailing list, though it is growing every day (THANK YOU!).

What gets me is that two times now, someone has mentioned, "My, you are certainly the impresario!" What a great word! You know, when you say it, you have to say it withh a little bit of an accent to really add to the effect. And yes, my friends were right, that is what I am, but why, oh why, didn't I think of that word when doing the business cards?

I would have loved that the word "impresario" followed my name; how many people do you know with that on their business card? Oh well, I'll just have to hustle a bit more and hand out lots and lots of cards this weekend at our almost sold-out concert (with Caleb Hawley and Rachel Platten and our own lovely Ellie Brown) so that I'll have to reorder very soon!

Bistro 19 in York, Pennsylvania

2011-01-27T18:09:00.011-05:00

"What gift do you think a good servant has that separates them from the others? It's the gift of anticipation. And I'm a good servant. I'm better than good. I'm the best. I'm the perfect servant. I know when they'll be hungry and the food is ready. I know when they'll be tired and the bed is turned down. I know it before they know it themselves." - the character, Mrs. Wilson from the film "Gosford Park"

It seems so appropriate to open this blog post with the above quote. Not that I consider the person I will mention as a "servant," but the thoughtfulness that is explained above was well performed by a lovely young woman named Jennifer.

This story begins in October of last year when a friend of mine was able to secure some tickets to see Lyle Lovett and John Hiatt in concert. We had seen Lyle during the summer and, that being my first time seeing him, I thought he was most awesome immediately. Originally, we had thought to go a nearby venue, but the ticket prices were through the roof and while the room is good, it's not great.

So, by fortunate luck and timing, my friend got much less expensive seats for the concert in a beautifully renovated theater -- third row; the unfortunate circumstance was that the aforementioned theater was in York, Pennsylvania. We live in Fredericksburg, Virginia, more than three hours from the venue.

BUT, we are adventuresome folks, so we decided it would be a great day out. We'd drive up, get there early, find a place to settle down and have a meal and some drinks, and then go to the show. That was the plan; brilliant, don't you think?

And it was, and still is, but Mother Nature intervened a bit to make it a more interesting adventure than we bargained for. The evening before the big adventure the weather potentates predicted gloom and doom, snow, rain, sleet, have I forgotten anything?

After a positive-ending discussion, we decided to carry on and my husband offered his Subaru for the snow trek. The trip up was lovely, uneventful, but snow did start falling before we made our destination and the landscapes were gorgeous. The roads were fine all the way into town, we found a parking garage, and then set out on foot to visit the ticket office and find a warm place to park our bodies for a while.

The first lovely surprise was that because one of our party was not able to come with us because of the weather, the ticket office gladly refunded the ticket price. The manager of the office also made several suggestions for restaurants, one of them being just across the street.

Thus begins our love affair with Bistro 19 in York. We entered the dark, but warm space and were immediately shown a menu so that we could decide whether we wanted to stay. Stay we did and we are very happy that we made that right decision. Dark wood panelled walls held posters and artwork that were reflected in the long bar's mirror. A look of windows was created along one wall with frames and copper flashing. The dining area was cheery with pumpkin-colored walls and plants and a very warm and inviting atmosphere. There is also an upstairs to handle the overflow crowd.

When we got there, it was still early and a few people were imbibing at the bar. We sat in the window to get a good view of the street, as the snow was getting heavier and heavier. A few of those "Liberty" tax people walked by in their costumes on their way to their designated street corners and nicely used their arrow-shaped cardboard posters to brush the snow off of the bistro's standing sidewalk menu board.

Our server, named Jennifer, was such a delight. She came over to say hello, very cute and with a sassy black hat on (I like women who are not afraid to wear hats). Like Mrs. Wilson (noted above), she was patient and watchful and made sure we had everything we needed. We opened with Funnel Cake Fries (can you BELIEVE it?) with a berry dipping sauce and a flatbread pizza (delicious and perfectly crunchy). My DP Zach and I both had the butternut squash with crab soup; so perfect for a cold, snowy night.

After we got through that round of food, we ordered a salad for my friend Carol (we couldn't believe the size of the salad compared to the small price we paid), and we had to try the hand-breaded onion rings with a root beer barbecue sauce and red curry aioli sauce. Thick rings of onion with a light breading were superb!

Some of us had champagne or some of the local beers (quite good) to wash down the terrific array of textures and flavors of the foods on the table. Before we left to go back across the street to the concert, I had a hot tea (my asthma was acting up and the warmth of the liquid helped calm the spasms). Not only did I get my tea, but an extra little pot that brewed while I savored the first one, sipping in between sessions of wrapping my hands to absorb the heat around the body of the cup.

So what was special about Jennifer? Well, she was always ready to make refills or remove plates, or make suggestions for beer or food, but without being a pain in the you-know-what. We really enjoyed her willingness to make us crazy out-of-towners feel welcome in a strange town. She even got the bartender to tell us why the white rose is a big deal in the area. By the time we left the bar, the place was full to capacity, I assume mostly with concert-goers, but whom we could tell were locals by the greetings and lively conversations taking place.

We made sure to tell Jennifer how much we enjoyed our time there and our meal. She's a winner and so is Bistro 19. If you ever find yourself visiting the York area, I think I can speak for my dining partners in saying that we all recommend a stop into Bistro 19. Thank you, Jennifer, our White Rose of York!

NEXT UP: Snow, Singers, and Slippage

It's Okay to Wine a Little

2011-01-18T17:28:00.006-05:00

So, a little over a month ago, near the end of a house concert, I was standing in the back of the room. It was another great show at a wonderful venue with some of the best food ever. Because the meal was included in the suggested donation, folks would ask me what they could bring anyway.

I would always answer, "A bottle of wine, please." Now, these bottles of wine are not meant to be consumed all in the same night of the event. When people bring a gift of wine, they are helping to provide some refreshment for the crowd, but also to stock the wine cellar for the next and ensuing concerts.

When I first started hosting house concerts, I went a bit overboard and would usually spend at least $200 to prep for each show and that does not include the labor involved in setting up a tent, tables, cleaning house, etc.

I used to provide all the beverages and did so for a long time, until I realized that I was spending way too much money, especially as I would occasionally put on two shows a month.

So I started asking folks to help with the beverage end of things and everyone pretty much stepped up and helped with stocking the cellar and diminishing my costs.

Well, at this particular party, within five minutes of my mentioning that we had quite a stash for the next concert, the "mistress" of the house (who must have overheard me) took most of the bottles for herself. Yes, you could always argue that the house that hosted should get "some" of the wine if they wanted it, but you could also say that a conversation could have ensued about the desire to take the wine. And the fact that she had overheard my statement makes the action seem contrived and mean-spirited.

I don't do well with confrontation, so I decided to let it be, especially in light of what the host brings to the event. I had brought my own wine stash and did not have to delve into it, so, in essence, I still walked away with more than I had come with.

Funny thing is, within three weeks of that event, I had more wine in my house than I ever have had at one time. It's like the wine gods were listening and sent me cases and cases of reds and whites as gifts from generous friends, knowing that I'd been wine snubbed. I like the way karma works, and in this case, I'll drink heartily to it.

Foodie Post

2011-01-18T17:00:00.005-05:00

Day 9 of this crud and today is the first day I am feeling half-human again; hallelujah!

A friend posted a short blog recently about the restorative powers of homemade soup; not just in the consuming, but in the making.

I absolutely agree with her and with a little bit of motivation, I, too, jumped into the cooking fray and made a huge batch of pasta fagioli, one of my faves, not only because of its taste, but because it is so easy.

I'd been feeling poorly for so long. My lungs are my weakest link (and will probably kill me in the end) and whenever they are affected by an illness, I am down for the count. Hot soup would be a wonderful elixir to help restore my health and, in some ways, my soul.

I made sure to add double the garlic and lots of onions. The onions made me cry, which briefly cleared my head, actually. A nice thing. The finished soup is beautiful with pasta, spinach, and beans in a tomato broth. Sprinkled with shredded parmesan, it makes a perfect meal.

Thinking of meals got me thinking of communes for some strange reason. I don't know why the connection came up, but I started thinking how cool it would be to live in a commune-type setting where cooks change every day so that something new comes out of the pot all the time. I was thinking how neat it would be if my cooking friends (and I know so many great cooks!) lived closer and once a month (on a Sunday or whatever would work best), we all made three or four batches of a soup or casserole and shared the extras around the group. We all would end up with a weeks' worth of DIFFERENT meals that way.

I don't know, but maybe something like that would work best in my neighborhood, one, for the proximity of the neighbors, and two, we've got quite a selection of cuisines around here. Right next door, I have a lovely Indonesian woman who loves to cook; I've had her food numerous times and it is delicious and spicy. Up the street a ways is a German woman and to tell you the truth, I don't know if she likes to cook, but I'm sure she'd come up with something. My daughter is close enough that she could be included and I don't care what she makes, everything from her kitchen is divine.

I really like the idea of food sharing; one of my friends in an exquisite Southern-style cook, another brings in flavors from all over the world, and yet another, stays true with fresh, organic ingredients and a mostly vegetarian menu. Another friend whom I reconnected with recently eats mostly raw foods and is quite well-known for her delectable concoctions.

So many options. Maybe I'll get motivated to get a group together; anyone out there interested at all in doing something like this? How cool would it be, eh?

That Time of Year

2011-01-09T16:03:00.007-05:00

Feeling blechy pretty much all the time now, not sick, but just down a little lower than I can remember being for a while. I'd like to think of it as a time for review and pondering and planning. I hope this is how it all turns out. My life is great and I know it and I see it, but like anything that needs processing, it is always changing, growing, adjusting . . .

Also been sick of all the illnesses and diseases around me this year; my good friend K's dealing with cancer had me running up the road to D.C. for most of the year, and she is now, thankfully, cancer-free, but still dealing with fallout issues.

And now, my stepmother has been re-diagnosed with breast cancer, ten years after we thought she had beaten it. This time, it has metastasized in her left leg, causing a great deal of pain for her for months. She asked that she be tested for cancer again starting in April of last year when the pain started, but instead, she got physical therapy, cortisone shots, more physical therapy, a walker. Finally, because her pain was so great (hey, who knew grandmas could use SUCH language!!!), she was admitted to a hospital for a scan. They found the cancer she knew had returned. Within days, she had a titanium pole put into her leg for stability and is now scheduled to start a run of radiation next week. Maybe they'll listen to her now . . . .

I've become quite the homebody, not wanting to go out as much (which is good), preferring the quiet of my home to the craziness of being on the town. I think all of the insanity of certain relationships has finally caught up with me, too. Several years of folks lying to me, using me to get information about other people, being brave enough to state my opinion about volatile subjects only to be called names and lambasted for those opinions, knowing people who contradict themselves from one breath to the next, having to draw some firm lines in the sand with family; well, I'm just plain tuckered out. The sad thing is that most of these issues have come up in my own Fellowship and I'm at the point of retreating a little bit more each week.

All that and with my own work that I am doing every day to reduce anxiety and stay strong to my own truths. Maybe I SHOULD work in that extra day of meditation . . . .

Watching family dynamics over the past year has been real eye opening; the sibling jealousies, desire for attention, insecurities, dependency, blaming. There is the school of thought that to tackle these things is to sit yourself right down in the middle of it, but I am of the school of thought that THAT is exactly what I've been doing for many years and I want nothing more to do with those emotions in the contexts within which they have presented themselves. I'm tired just from writing these words here.

I have not completely closed myself off from people; we do invite people over or to do a jaunt on the boat or we've been invited out. We spent New Year's Day on the boat sailing to St. Clement's Island with a few friends of ours. It was a wonderfully, perfect day, even though on the nippy side.

Attended a very nice dinner party last night, which we thought we'd only stay for a bit, then head to another party. Not to be; the food was served in courses starting with delicious greens topped with beets, bleu cheese, apples, and a citrus dressing. Main course was salmon with horseradish, asparagus, and lemon pasta. The dessert was a Cornmeal Rosemary Cake with Pine nuts and Orange Glaze--so so good. After dessert, one of the couples left and four of us who were left and the hosts went downstairs to play a couple of games of pool. Well, after all that, it was quite late when we left, so the second party was not to be, which was okay. I felt good, satisfied even, from the night with old and new friends and actually did not want any more interaction at that point.

It's a real time of transformation, being able to make the choices of whom you are letting get close to you in your life and those you are going to have to move away from, even if they had been friends or if they are family. It is a matter of mental survival and I plan on using that to my benefit now.

What I think I need is a vacation; a chance to get out of town for a little while and do some reflecting while the sun is reflecting on me. We've been searching for that perfect sailboat for sometime now and it is at times like these that I wish we did have a big enough boat to head south for a few months.

Maybe soon.

January House Concert News!

2011-01-04T13:09:00.000-05:00

http://houseabouttonight.blogspot.com/

Post-Christmas Shopping

2010-12-28T11:09:00.003-05:00

Do you go shopping the day after Christmas? Are you one of the hapless folks who really believes that you are getting some great deals by shopping after the craziness of the pre-holiday frenzy? Not me.

Shopping the day after Christmas seems to me to be a bit like the post-coital smoke; you've just had a whale of a time, experiencing amazing sensations and yet, you want just a bit more, please. We are such an unsatisfied lot.

Lighting up after sex creates a sense of calm in the last quivers of sensation and maybe that's what post-holiday shoppers are looking for, I don't know.

An article in our newspaper today quoted folks as saying things similar to, "Well, I saved 70 percent off of that snuggie!" How is that calculated, I wonder? Is it from the tags that are put on the day after Christmas with extra-inflated prices then crossed out with a "new" lower price? Hmmm; makes one wonder.

I remember years ago going into a local store to get someone a kitchen appliance after Christmas. The price seemed pretty good, but when we got to the cash register, the price rang up to be $30 more. When we brought the piece of plastic showing the price we saw, the manager got all huffy and said that that price was the "old" price and that the price was now more than 1/3 higher. Of course, he didn't really "say" this, it was implied. We laughed about it and said that because the price was out there for everyone to see that it should be honored . . . and it was, eventually.

What the crew had done the night before is forget to mark the piece up and then supposedly bring it back down. It's such a crazy game and I no longer really believe in "sales," per se. Most are manufactured and we don't even know it. I could not go into a store and know what a product had been marked at just days before; I'm pretty much as blind as most of the public.

So, as joyous as Christmas was for me this year, and most of that was because I finally took it back!!!, the days after are more of a respite for me to just chill, reorganize the house, eat more and more cookies, and watch the snow fall; care to join me?

Holiday Musings

2010-12-27T15:52:00.006-05:00

Just a month ago, I was dreading the holidays; I always get seriously moody and just hate all the hubbub and shopping and commercialism and crazy drivers and outrageous prices and stupid people! Yes, I usually have a problem with this time of year.

But, for some reason, this season has been the best in memory.

A switch has definitely been flipped in my head because this year's holiday season was so easy, so fun, and better than I could have imagined. I felt joyful instead of stressed and even though I have a little bit of shopping left to do for folks I don't see often, everything went so smoothly and the results were fabulous.

I wasn't amazingly organized this year, but the shopping was done quickly in about two days. One of those days, I was joined by my daughter and she helped things move right along. (I even went to the MALL, which I did not go near last year.) We had a great time; people were nice and very helpful. As an aside, when my daughter and I were walking through the food court at the mall, I opined that this would be a good place to hold a flash mob event. Weirdly enough, not three hours later, there WAS a flash mob with local choirs coming out to sing the Hallelujah Chorus from Handel. Awesome! (My daughter thinks I'm psychic . . . .)

Obviously, the greatest part of the holiday is the time I spend with my family. My kids mean the world to me and being with them is always special, no matter whether it is a Wednesday of a regular week or a holiday. The fact that both of the older kids are happy, in love, and healthy just adds to the glow.

Because my daughter is married and my son is in a relationship, they have other family schedules to consider, so we decided on a Christmas Brunch this year, which, I actually hope will become a tradition.

They started arriving about ten o'clock. First my daughter and her husband, then my Dad, and then ex-husband, my son and his girlfriend. My son came in with gifts galore, making three trips back to his car. The piles around the Christmas tree were unlike any we'd ever had. I think the spirit had gotten into all of us!

My youngest son was already engrossed in his iTouch, but we managed to drag him away to join us for the meal. My daughter brought delicious cranberry scones, which we served with clotted cream (yum!), my son-in-law brought biscuits with cheddar and jalapeno, the perfect foil for the German Apple Pancake, which is sweet and my specialty. Served alongside were veggie sausages and maple-flavored bacon. I also pulled together a Mexican salad with beets, pineapple, jicama, and oranges, which is typically served on Christmas Eve. So we brought in the UK, Germany, Mexico, and the Southern U.S. for a truly international meal. Mimosas and hot buttered rum added a bit of sparkly, too.

Earlier in the month, we'd had a very good Hanukkah meal for my husband. The potato latkes are becoming very well known and we enjoyed the company of family and friends for that celebration. My husband and son also celebrate Hanukkah with the Jewish side of the family, usually near the end of the eight days of light and it works out well for them and me.

Close friends joined us for Christmas Dinner; we sat down to my turkey meatloaf with apple, mashed potatoes, braised brussels sprouts with garlic, fruit salad, and a delicious red wine given to me by my son and his girlfriend. Dessert included a bit of sorbet and more wine. While my friend and I adjourned to the next room to discuss kitchen renovation ideas, the guys stayed at the table chatting. We had all become so engrossed with our conversations, we did not notice that a candle had burnt down into a wooden candle holder and started a small fire (yikes). The guys took care of it quickly, but I am thankful we did not leave the premises.

The snow was falling outside, our brains had been mulled by the wine, and the food was settling in our stomachs. The whole day had been a blessing in so many ways. I am thankful for my family and friends. They are the true gifts of the season.

Over the River and Through the Woods

2010-12-13T21:15:00.009-05:00

As you have probably gathered from previous posts, my family is not an especially close one. That said, I am grateful for not having a nauseatingly close one, but wish mine were a wee bit more connected.

Talked to my father the other day and found out that my stepmother has been in serious hip pain since about Thanksgiving; she's meeting with a surgeon on Thursday to find out when she can get a new hip. I had really hoped that, with some luck, her bout with breast cancer years ago would have been the last huge medical issue she would have to face. But no, she'd been having pain and it was getting worse and worse, and finally, on Thanksgiving, she cried "Uncle!" and saw a doctor shortly thereafter.

My dad has been doing his best to keep her from moving too much or overdoing; my dad is quite unique. When I was down with my broken foot when Elliott was an infant, he came over one day to spend time with me (I had been relegated to the couch and told not to move). As it happens, I must get my lack of motivation from him, because it was not long before I was hobbling around fixing HIM a meal. Oy!

So, when he said he had been taking care of her, I believed him, but knew I should step in a little bit, no matter how good his intentions.

Armed with bags of food, I drove out this morning after waking to a beautiful cover of snow on the ground. Thankfully, the snow was nil, and driving was easy, and I got there in short order.

Entering the house, I said my hellos, made sure Ruth was comfortable (Ruth is my stepmother--she has my maiden name--strange, yes, but it's all good), and then went into the kitchen to start work. I unpacked potatoes, onions, garlic, peas, canned chicken, egg noodles, cream of celery soup, saving the best for last, the Moscato d'Asti by Lodali (one of my favorite white sparkling wines--sweet and delicious!). Ruth was excited about the wine, but we decided that 10:30am might be a bit early for us to start nipping so into the fridge it went to chill until we were ready to imbibe.

Peeling, dicing, chopping, sauteeing, boiling efforts underway, the potato soup on the stove filled the house with a wonderful aroma. Boiling the noodles and adding the sauteed onions and celery provided the base for a chicken-noodle casserole (a big one that should last for days!) During the cooking process, we talked about family (I'm sure some ears were burning somewhere) and had a very nice time. I have found recently that I relate much better to my parents and in-laws in small groups, and most preferably one on one. (My husband, son, and I had the recent fortunate event of a lunch with my husband's father--I have to say that was one of the best conversations we've ever had. It's funny how things can be better once you get someone away from their comfort (or discomfort) zone.)

Same thing happened today, nice, honest talking about some hard situations. My dad, the bull-headed mule that he is doesn't think the changing mole on the side of his face is anything to worry about; my stepmother thanked me for noticing because she's been trying to get him to a doctor about it for weeks. He swears it hasn't changed; I said, "Yes, it has, and you ARE going to a doctor! Skin cancer is not a laughing matter and must be taken seriously." I looked him straight in the eye when I said that and hope it works. You know I'm going to ramp up the nag-meter on that one.

So I cooked, we talked, and then we broke out the wine, and we talked some more. My dad had to go run an errand and took advantage of my being there since he didn't like to leave Ruth alone. The soup and casserole were finished and cooling on the stove. So, for the first time in a long time, she and I got some conversation time in between sips of wine.

When my dad returned from his shopping trip, I could leave and feel confident that they would get some hearty meals in them before I could get out there again.

My dad is uncomfortable with generosity sometimes (yes, I know we are very much alike) and asked me to take some of the food home with me and that he wanted to pay me for the groceries. I said no to both requests, so then he plied me with lettuce and tomatoes, which I did take.

Then he gave me something for Elliott; he showed me a small, very old aspirin box (St. Joseph's brand--one dozen tablets of Genuine Pure Aspirin for 10 cents); he opened it and showed me some old coins, dated from 1935 on. So the box is cool and the coins are cool, but what is most interesting about this box is that my father's mother gave it to him a long, long time ago. I like that Elliott now has something that passed from his great-grandmother's hands to his grandfather to my hands and now to him. The box will be kept in a safe place and whenever I see it, it will bring a smile to my face in remembrance of family and the great day that today turned out to be.

By the way, I love the inscription under the lid of the aspirin box:

"Practice Economy -- Buy the Larger Size of St. Joseph Genuine Pure Aspirin.

The 25c size contains 3 times as many tablets as the 10c size--The 50c size contains 8 times as many tablets as the 10c size. Therefore, the 50c size is the most economical size to buy." There you go; your math and economics lessons for the day!

Kewpie Doll

2010-12-11T09:38:00.003-05:00

Strange dreams are abounding; last night I dreamt of a Kewpie Doll, but this one was kind of real.

I remember being at a yard sale of sorts; young men and women were selling really fine linens and antique furniture at a decrepit apartment house. I went in, saw my daughter there and her friend Ashley. They were having a great time trying on clothes.

At one point, I went to eat something and remembered that I had a baby (or something) that I had been neglectful in feeding. I went back to find the baby and found her (I think it was a she) stuck in a sink drain, but this drain had holes for not only her little torso and legs, but also for each arm. With gentle pulling, I was able to free her, but she was stretched out beyond capacity. I laid her down to rest and recoup, but came back to find that she had literally separated at the waist. The stress had been too much.

When I touched her to help her, her two parts turned into embryonic slices of matter. The one on top was smaller and had a dim sparkly gem as an "eye." In attempting to pick up the top "piece," my touch withered the disc to nothingness and the bottom one remained, but had no life. I felt incredibly guilty that I had neglected this little girl and carried that feeling until I woke up.

Now sitting here trying to figure it out . . . .

Up and Down, Up and Down

2010-11-30T14:06:00.006-05:00

Missing the clay lately, but I haven't acted upon that longing in a while. Good news is that the owners of the Georgetown salon that requested the Japanese-style cups and saucers were happy with my results (a long learning curve there, I'll tell you!). Dropped them off after a very long day of hospital time with a friend and within a few days, got the message that they were "lovely." Lovely.

My other project, a chalice for my Fellowship, has not had such good outcomes. The plural there is on purpose; three times I tried, three times I failed. The wonderful time was spent with my oldest son and his unique ability to take what I could only give minimal words to and turn it into a beautiful symbol. I am looking at it now as I write this and smiling.

The first project was so beautiful and round and lovely, but it dried too quickly and split apart at all the joints. The second was just as gorgeous and looked different; I made it different so that it would dry differently (and slowly), but one day just as I was getting ready to put it on the shelf for bisque firing, a very small move started a domino-like collapse, with all the figures ending up in a rubble heap. When I made this particular sculptural design, I thought the icon looked more like a bird (it actually can be so many different things).

Gathering up the bits of clay, I put them into a bucket and added water so that the clay could be reconstituted and used again for something else. Pouring the water into the bucket of dried clay, a cacophany of sound erupted, much like birds tweeting. Totally creepy, but cool, too. Goodbye birds.

The third project took me the longest and for which I had the highest hopes. I made a large bowl and carved out the shapes, figuring that if there were no joints, then the splits while drying would be less likely to occur. All good for a long time as I painstakingly carved and cut, carved and cut, smoothed and polished.

The first thing that made me realize that things were not going so well is when the whole base came off the piece. Darn; I should have added a coil! I could still deal with it by using paper clay to bind them together.

I decided that I would add some white slip to the sculpture to make the shadowy aspects of the carving stand out all the more; MISTAKE! The wetness and quick drying of the slip caused the same split to occur as in the first sculpture. I couldn't believe it as I watched each spot where the pieces were the thinnest go pop! pop! pop! all the way around the circumference of the bowl. At that point, I just couldn't deal with it anymore; I wrapped it up and put it away and have not looked at it again. I don't know that I want to look at it again.

I have thought of ways to mask the cracks if I do fire it, but will the cracks expand and warp the whole piece? I don't want to find out. So right now, I am giving up. I hate to say that, especially because of all the hours I have put into this important project. I was honored to have been asked to do it and I hate the idea of going back to the committee and saying that I failed. But I don't know what to do right now.

I fear that some of my own reticence about my Fellowship may be coming through in my art; I fear that my whole self is not invested in this piece I have offered to create for the Fellowship space.

I don't want to touch it again physically or mentally until I am in a better place in my own head about what I am creating, how I will create it, and most especially, WHY.

The Gift of Giving

2010-11-29T12:57:00.003-05:00

Okay, I'm like you in that I always hear that cliche phrase, "The Gift of Giving," and personally, it drives me up the wall. Blah, blah, blah. Only so much words for the most part.

Yesterday I received this gift and I am very grateful. I had posted a "help wanted" note to my thousands of "friends" on FB that I would like some help in my yard with raking, laying out a new patio, planting a few green things. Yes, I realize it was a holiday weekend, but still I expected more than a few people to show up.

Thankfully, two friends did. And we kicked butt! And then we celebrated heartily (and grungily) at a local restaurant with good red wine and great food! Thank you, E and S.

I truly believe that the trees this year have made more leaves than ever; my husband and I started working on this leafy project last week. We made some good headway, but energy failed us and we eventually had to stop (that, and it was getting dark). THEN, before we could get back out and get the original piles socked away, it rained and the wind blew, and tons and tons of new leaves fell on top of the uncovered lawn and made the standing piles that much larger.

I think it is because I did this as "work" for so long as a business that doing my own yard is like an anathema to me. I'd just much rather pay someone to do it now. But I've also come to the realization that that same money can be going to my kitchen redo or to my travel fund, so yes, it was time to get the rakes out and get to work. Yet, it was so much to do and so overwhelming, that I finally broke down, and it takes me a long time to do it; I asked for help.

With offers of pizza and beer (and sweet tea), I sent out the note and waited. Just glad I wasn't holding my breath!

I am happy for what we accomplished and it makes me more excited for the now-not-so-long process to come. I had been a bit overwhelmed by a landscape plan a friend did for me, but now that I can actually see the edges of the yard, I am more inspired than ever.

The funniest part of yesterday was when my friend S clambered onto the roof to clean out the gutters AFTER we had cleared leaves from all close-by areas on the ground; as the leaves and rotted goop starting falling down around our heads, E and I just looked up and cracked up.

We also wondered about the neighbors who have jumbo lawn tractors that eat the leaves and then spit them out later. We wondered if, as they saw us working diligently with our manual tools, whether they were snickering haughtily behind closed curtains. But, as my husband showed with grace and dignity, those machines can't get everywhere--he made sure to get the neighbors' leaves from around their deck and stuck behind the air handler into our piles and we took those to the woods, too. Good going, G; you know I wouldn't have done it.

Maybe I'll go out and do some more raking and hauling today . . . or maybe I'll read a book. Read a book, rake the leaves, read a book, rakes the leaves, read a book, what leaves?

Mother's Coat

2010-11-20T12:00:00.002-05:00

People might think I'm a little off, but I love driving to the city. Washington, D.C. is a place I spent many of my formative working years (17 to 26?) and I love the place. I went up twice this week; Thursday evening after a friend of mine won two tickets to see/hear the Trans-Siberian Orchestra (a whole 'nother blog) and then on Friday morning to take my friend for a procedure at George Washington University Hospital.

On Thursday, my friend was quite impressed with my ability to wend my way around our nation's capital; I explained to her that I used to walk these streets at two o'clock in the morning back in the 70s, so I knew them fairly well. Plus, getting lost in D.C. is almost impossible with so many landmarks.

On Friday, I zipped up the interstate to take my friend to the hospital; same routine we'd been doing for some time, so it was an easy drive.

I not only like Washington, D.C. for driving (well, not in rush-hour traffic--that I'd rather avoid) but for the obvious people watching. Fredericksburg can be a very white town with shades of grey, so going into such a gorgeously diverse quilt of colors, styles, voices, nationalities, and accents is a real gift.

During the hugely long hospital wait (my friend was supposed to go up to pre-op at 1:15pm--didn't happen until 3:30pm), I had the time to wander around the hospital's public areas and eventually, when the hunger pangs got bothersome, the cafeteria beckoned.

While I was waiting in line to order my smoothie (with the energy blast--I was fading by now), I noticed an African-American woman enter the cafeteria. She wasn't particularly stunning in looks, but rather, her countenance was striking. Wearing a dark brown men's fedora, she strode into the room with a bearing that was hard to describe, but I was impressed. She was wearing an awesome coat of dark brown and light turquoise houndstooth--a very classic style, though still contemporary.

After I had perched myself at my windowside table, I noticed her making her way through the checkout line. Being as I was quite close, I overheard the cashier remark on the coat and how much she liked it. The woman in the hat explained that the coat had been her mother's maternity coat many years ago; the woman's older sister had used the coat for a while after the mother's death, and then, finally, she handed down the coat to her younger sister.

The nattily dressed woman then opened the coat to show that she had refurbished it, adding a new lining and tailoring it to fit. She was quite proud of her work and deservedly so.

I started thinking about my own mother's clothes and how my father, in his non-thinking grief after her death, had had all the clothes taken away. My mother owned a beautiful camel hair coat with big buttons and a shearling collar. She picked cotton for a whole summer to be able to afford that coat and I would have loved for it to stay in the family.

My attention came back to this woman as she finished up her conversation with the cashier (and the next customer, who had joined in on the conversation). With poignancy, she remarked, "When I wear this coat, I feel my mother's arms around me."

At that point, eyes wet with emotion, I refocused on my lunch, but thought to myself what a gift my mother's coat would have been for those days when I would have loved more than anything to " . . . feel my mother's arms around me."

Yet another gift.

Getting It Out There

2010-11-16T21:32:00.001-05:00

One of the most important aspects of a successful house concert series is publicity; getting the information out to those who would be interested in your venue and the type of music it offers.

One of my semi-regular attendees of the shows told me recently that she hadn't been getting my e-mails and that maybe her name had dropped off the list. Since I'd only added her this year, I was a little confused, but did not dwell on the issue.

She reminded me again about it at the last concert. So, today, with the help of a few friends, I found out that my concert e-mails have been diving off the board of usefulness into an abyss of not knowing. The last known e-mail that hit its mark was maybe in March of this year; yikes! I've had monthly concerts since then, and sometimes two a month and my whole list of almost 400 people were not getting the news! Granted, some of them are crossovers on Facebook, but STILL . . . .

Thank goodness I also use the invitation application on Facebook because that would account for the numbers we've had all year. Well, that, and word of mouth (thank you all for that!). What saddens me is that the numbers could have been exponentially larger had I had the other mailing list in its full, useful form.

No one had mentioned it (does that mean they had not noticed it either? Boo hoo!); kind of makes me sad that no one noticed it or maybe some of them were happy to be relieved of my constant updates. I don't know. Thing is, the process was still working fairly well even though there was a very weak link.

So, today, with many thanks to my genius husband, he printed out a list he had created a while back for my website and I compared it to what I currently had with new names and voila! Today, the list is safely used via the website and no longer on AOL (bad AOL!).

Nervously, I sent a new e-mail highlighting Saturday's show and I got my copy and my husband got his, so I think everything is peachy keen. I'm very interested to see whether this changes the range of numbers of folks attending the concerts. Looking forward to finding out!

So what's my lesson here? If you get any kind of error code from your mailing, that should be a red flag that your list has some problems. Talk to your own genius or find your inner genius and make it work. Half my contacts had just dropped away without my realizing it; glad they're back and glad that some of them have already contacted me about this weekend's and future concerts.

Waking Up

2010-11-16T11:11:00.003-05:00

I do not wake up happy. I am not one of those people who wakes up with a smile on their face. In fact, if one of these chirpy, happy people comes into within ten feet of me while I'm still in bed and tries to rouse me, all I really want to do is kill them . . . slowly. But only after I turn over and get more sleep.

I can't remember not being this way; I've always had an issue with sleep. It takes me a long, long time to get to sleep, even if I've had a long, hard day and I've had horrendously physical days doing landscaping in the past; my body and brain just want to keep going and going. I have learned ways to still the mind a little and do deep breathing, so I can get the body to a decently sleepable state, but the brain; my god, it is so hard to turn off the brain.

This is especially so when I have an important event or project coming up; I keep thinking of things to do, that have been done, but could be done better, things I know I will forget.

I remember, as a teenager, laying awake in my bed for HOURS attempting sleep, wondering why I could not just relax and shut down. I'm much better off than I was then, but I'll tell you what, do not wake me up if I've just fallen asleep. I can be worse than a bear with claws out! Growl.

A few friends of mine and I have talked about entering the age of menopause and how just the hormonal shifts can be detrimental to our sleep patterns. All I can think is that my hormonal shifts must have started while I was in utero.

Speaking of which, having babies definitely made my sleep life even crazier. One of the foremost reasons I chose to have a family bed is so that everyone in the family could get a decent amount of sleep; having my little ones right next to me to breastfeed without having to come totally conscious was a definite saving grace.

Reading sometimes helps, hot chamomile tea, and definitely the deep breathing and relaxation techniques I've learned at the Zen Farm. Even there, though, while others go deep so quickly, I don't usually get to that deep state until right before the gong is sounded signaling our time to rouse. Growl.

Speaking of Words

2010-11-14T10:07:00.006-05:00

Yesterday, G, E, and I went on a cruise to get the feel for a catamaran. Friends of G probably may shiver to think of him on a catamaran, but he has been talking about it for years and, whatever his reasons for looking at one, I do appreciate it for my sake. I do enjoy sailing, but heeling boats are my least favorite aspect of the pastime.

We've decided that we may never actually get a boat, because we enjoy looking for them so much. We've traveled near and far looking at boats for a long time and it would be sad for that to end (sic); seriously, though, we have traveled to Rhode Island, New Jersey, Maryland, and best of all, California, in search of the elusive Golden Boat.

I've certainly enjoyed the traveling, but not the dashed hopes of not getting the boat the I might like; it sometimes feels like a roller-coaster ride. Oh boy, oh boy, we're going to look at some boats, oh boy, oh boy, on the road again, oh boy, oh boy, that one is nice, but THAT one is really nice, oh yeah, I could see myself out there on the (somewhat) high seas living this awesome lifestyle, oh, I see, you're not sure about that one? Oh, okay. Well, then, I guess we'll wait a bit and see. And wait, and wait, and wait. And forget. Ugh!

So I enter each foray into boatlooking as somewhat of a futile exercise, but I do enjoy the process before the Ugh!

Yesterday evening, after a nice sail in the South River, including a surprising visit to a sheltered spot that had me nervous we were going to run aground, the skipper of the boat brought us back into the dock. With a slow, but similar move to Jim Carrey's in the movie "Ace Ventura" when he pulled a crazy 360-degree turn to slide his car into a parking space, Captain Tommy did the same thing with a 48'x25' catamaran. I was bedazzled, to say the least. As Ace Ventura would say, "Like a glove!"

So, after the nice landing, we were treated to a nice shore-side meal of chili, seafood chowder, cornbread, mozzarella and tomato salad, and other crudites, along with wine, beer, and hot-buttered rum.

During our meal, a woman with short, dark hair joined us and started talking about how she finally, after a five-year thinking period, gave up her house and "things" and moved aboard a boat. She said she wasn't particularly gung-ho when her husband mentioned it and that's why it took five years. So, this summer, they sold the house (which sold quickly, even in this market) and moved to the boat. She said it was the most freeing thing she had ever done; just to let go of the stockpiled accoutrements of life and let them go. No yard to worry about, no house to keep fixing up, no things to dust. She said that this summer was the best she'd ever had in her life and that they do not regret their decision to just chuck it all and live on the water.

At first, my skepticism crept in and I wondered if Captain Tommy has asked her to come by as a "ringer" to get us hooked on the line of boat ownership. But, the more I listened and watched her, I realized she was the genuine article. She was at least my age, maybe a few years older, and she looked great, had a very satisfied look about her, and was just very happy.

So, I'm thinking maybe there is something to this idea of being on the water. With the new boats that are out, it's not like one has to suffer for the idea anymore. Hot and cold running water, heat, air conditioning (though, to tell you the truth, the idea of air conditioning on a boat is just too weird), washer/dryers, everything that you might think you need for the good life can also be had on the boat. Only difference is the smaller surroundings while you are traveling, but I'm used to living in a small one-story house--couldn't be that much different.

And the other, most positive, thing, is that the world is literally your oyster. Don't like the scenery? Pull up anchor and sail a few hours or a few days or a few weeks and you can change it drastically. Don't like the new people on A dock; sail away and find some groovy new folks to hang out with--not a shabby idea.

So, it is the day after the excitement, and, like I said, I am sure no action will be taken any time real soon, but it is nice to dream, and now that I know the drill, I'm not going to be too disappointed if we stall a little while, again.

The Golden Boat is out there somewhere, probably sailing towards us as I write.

Brilliant People and What Comes Out of Their Mouths

2010-11-13T09:26:00.004-05:00

I love being around brilliant people; not because I'm trying to soak up some of their brilliance via osmosis or anything. It's more because I love words so much and brilliant people use words a lot; have you noticed that?

At a gathering last evening, I had the pleasure of being around a very smart man from the UK; his use of words was brilliant! I know I am overusing the word "brilliant" here, but it is one of my favorite words. Anyway, this guy was talking about his travels and work and I was just enthralled. Maybe it is because he was throwing in some great English lingo and I'm sure it is also because he has a deep, resonant voice with which to deliver those delicious words. The English accent certainly doesn't hurt, either.

After this soiree, I went to a local bar to hear some friends play music; a tablemate of mine is brilliant, too, and I loved his quick rejoinders to his girlfriend's statements. I mean, not even a second would go by and you could see the spark in his eye and then blammo--a great comeback that left us in stitches! I laughed so much last night that my cheeks (the upper ones) were sore this morning.

In my lust for words, I like to play Scrabble (mostly with robots), but I do have two going with friends -- they, she and he, both run right over me with words. So I have to think they are brilliant, too, in their own ways. The robots are not so brilliant; that is why I win more than lose with them.

Maybe I need to think of my friends as robots and then maybe I'll play smarter myself. I don't know; I seem to be the queen of four-letter words (no, not THAT four-letter word, though it would have come in handy this last game -- oy!).

I think words are so enticing to me because most people have very limited vocabularies; I love using old terms and not-oft-used words to spice up the conversational dish on occasion.

I am actually saddened that words come and then go out of style, but some are better gone, I guess. I tend to be stuck in the 70s and have no hesitation in using "cool" or "groovy" or "far out." But I also like "peachy keen" and "bee's knees," too, which definitely came before.

Okay, I think this post is wordy enough, definitely not brilliant, but wordy. Over and out.

Thelma and Louise

2010-11-11T13:09:00.007-05:00

My dear Thelma:

Good to see you up and about today.

So your body is old and shows signs of wear and could really use a good scrubbing. Your innards are aged and oily and stinky and moldy and every few minutes, you really need to get a good jolt to keep your slightly hesitant heart beating.

But once you get going, you get the job done and you do it well, carrying burdens that I would think beyond your ability. You just procrastinate a little bit, now and then.

Then I remind you with a gentle, loving push just what you can do and you're off, like a foal leaping around the pasture in the springtime. Then you get 'er done, girl!

Good old Thelma, you have helped me through so many bad times, do not fear that I will let you go just because you aren't up to working or playing when I am. With some cajoling, we can get on the same page rather quickly. Thank you for that and for just continuing to be who you are. You are a good lesson for me this day and every day.

I love you, my dear Thelma. Looking forward to our next outing.

~ Ruth aka "Louise"

P.S. Enclosing a pic of you that I thought you might like! ;)

A Day at the Races

2010-11-08T11:12:00.010-05:00

At the last minute, I was thinking it was a bad idea to go. I'd never been to this kind of event before and remembered that it had always been associated with old money and the snobby set. You know, the upper upper. And it was supposed to be cold. And we'd have to stand or sit outside. In the cold. Around snobby people.

So, my friend and I deliberated. To stave off the cold, we could just wear a goodly amount of layers. Our nervousness about the newness of the event (to us) would be definitely placated by our generous friends and hosts. The drive was not so terrible and we would be traveling through beautiful country.

And, we had made a commitment to our friends and already bought the tickets!

So, okay, we're on the road again. Car loaded down with chairs, blankets, and a ton of food, we set out for the horsey country of Orange County and the Montpelier Hunt Races. Tally-ho!

The day turned out to be an absolute joy; even though we had to trudge quite a ways burdened with our societal accroutements of luxury, we finally found our host tent and joined in the already burgeoning party. Good advice if you're coming to one of these races; make sure that one of the tent hosts is a wine store--great wine poured all day long!

On our way to the tent, we drooled over lavish tail-gate parties with gorgeous displays of silver salvers, outstanding floral arrangements, candles, tea sandwiches, dips, chips, and one car had an elaborately stocked full bar in the hatchback. I was liking these snobby folks more and more.

The pot-luck table at our tent was groaning by the time we got there; I never had to unpack my cooler of sustenance. We had robust pork, spicy shrimp, curry, ham sandwiches, assorted cheeses and hors d'oeuvres, and the desserts! Don't even get me started on the desserts, though the pumpkin trifle was a real winner.

The neatest part of the day was when the first fanfare of the trumpets announced that the horses were coming to the gates; I'd heard the sound on soundtracks and in movies and on the radio, but to hear it in these surroundings sent a chill down my spine. I didn't realize how close the horses would come to our fence behind the tent, but you could hear them before you could see them, that lovely rumble, and then there they were, tearing by you in speedy flashes of color and flying dirt -- yikes! I could have reached out and touched someone! An odd moment occurred when a riderless horse raced by, seemingly unperturbed by the loss of weight on its back; this horse had a mission and that was to finish the race no matter what!

It took several tries for our resident tent bookie to get me to bet on a race; I am so competitive and betting usually makes me nuts. But I did relent and put one dollar on Classmark, Houghton Regrets, and Tiefordancen to win in the third race, "The Battleship." Why did I choose those horses? What mathematical strategy and cunning did I use to come up with those three? Yeah, right. Pretty much, it was because they were the three open slots.

Classmark won and I walked away with an nine-dollar profit; not too shabby. I did make one other bet that day, on a horse named "The Price of Love" in the 6th. I did not win that one, so for me, the price of love is a bit too high.

In between races, my friend and I would walk around, continuing our drooling over the tail-gate parties, but also visiting some of the vendors' tents, especially the hats. Hats are a big deal in hunt country and men and women wore chapeaux of many different styles. I bought one near the end of the day, a snappy little number with a red band.

We found a better place to watch a few races (right at the finish line) and then sauntered off to see more vendors and make our way back across the fields to our tent. I had just mentioned that a few other friends of mine would be there at the races when lo and behold, they were walking right in front of me! Too funny. Hugs, laughs, introductions, and we were off again, strolling through the crowd.

The sun played hide-and-seek for most of the day, but all in all, the weather was quite pleasant and we never got too chilled. I already have the date of the next races on my calendar for next November. Next time, I'm bringing more friends and my family--there were lots of kids there, playing football or soccer out in the open spaces of green. The kids at the Catholic School tent were quite enterprising; they had a huge bookie operation going on and were also selling cigars! There you go.

So, my friend and I were happy to have gone and spent the day in hunt country. I never got to the point where I absolutely had to have a charm bracelet with horseshoes dangling from it, but I am a convert. It was an exciting day and even eating a little dirt did me no harm.

Sometimes It is Best Not to Plan

2010-11-04T12:52:00.005-04:00

Walking around underground was not in my plan for the day, but Elliott and I ended up doing just that. We began our ride with Elliott having a pre-teen hissy fit ("I don't want to go anywhere with you; I want to play with my friends!" sulk, sulk). This is kind of new for him; usually, he loves hanging out with me, driving to thrift stores or grocery shopping or just visiting a museum. All of a sudden, he has turned that corner into PMS-ing (not the usual definition, but Preteen Mood Syndrome). A large part of this might be attributed to Facebook, where a whole new world of communication with friends has opened up--he is now the recipient of that fleeting adrenalin rush we all get when we see that someone "likes" us or a comment we've made, or receives a response to a post or private message.

But I did not cave (ha ha, I just reread this and realized that I DID cave!!!); I prevailed with the idea that we would drive into Culpeper for the day and visit my Dad on the way home. For some reason, when we hit Main Street in Culpeper, the car decided that we should continue West, Old Woman!!! Alright, I said, I'm fine with a nice drive in the country. We can turn around somewhere and come right back. Didn't happen; we drove and drove, looking for a specific vegetarian restaurant I remembered (not there anymore) and by this time we were in the mountains. So we kept on driving, loving those wildly curvy roads, swallowing ever so often to keep the pressure from building up in our heads.

All of a sudden, Elliott's face brighted and he jumped up: A sign ahead for Luray Caverns had caught his eye. With more excitement than he had shown in days, he looked at me with wide eyes and said, "Let's go THERE!"

Looking at my watch, I noticed it was already one in the afternoon, we might make it to the Caverns by two, and I had a yoga session that evening -- No, I thought we should find a turnaround and start making our way back.

Oh, but then he poured on the pouty eyes he has perfected (and been perfecting since the age of one!), and I bit. We drove for a while longer, admiring the not-quite-peak-but-still-beautiful leaf foliage of the forests around us, the streams rolling under the bridges, and finally made that right turn into Luray Caverns.

What an operation it has grown into over the years! Cafes, restaurants, gift shops, a garden maze, and a classic car museum! And expensive! We queued up to get our tickets and then, because we had a little time, we walked back outside to breathe in some of the wonderful mountain air and get a picture of Elliott in front of the Luray Caverns sign done in mosaic. Of course, he could not pose in front of it; he had to climb the wall and sit at the top (much to my chagrin!). Picture snapped, he came down, and we went in to start our tour.

Back in my day, we had a tourguide for the whole way; there is still a tourguide, but now you wear headphones and key in the number for each particular site to get an historical overview via audio tape. Coming down those first set of stairs set in motion a wonderfully reminiscent experience for me; feeling emotional and awestruck at the same time was a dose of beauty I needed that day. Elliott felt it, too; I could tell by the happy eyes! He made sure to show me all the low places in the cave, saying it was similar to a caving experience he had at a Fellowship camp a few years ago. He loved that time in the caves, even when it made him a bit nervous--I think he liked getting really muddy on purpose!

The cave's temperature was very comfortable and when Elliott heard that bacteria levels were minimal, he made sure to take many deep breaths (comically at times). We came upon the most popular part of the exhibits "The Fried Eggs." Now, when I used to visit long, long ago, we were allowed to rub the eggs' "yolks" for good luck. No more; now they are off limits to hands.

An interesting bit of audio caught my attention as we were walking down into the "ballroom" where the organ sits waiting to play a beautiful tune. The narrator mentioned that people come back again and again to see this wonderful natural site. He said they may have first come as a youngster, but then they bring back their children about 30 years later. How similar of my experience with Elliott; my first time there I was about 10 years old and here I was, 42 years later, bringing my youngest to see a place that has always entranced me.

As we made our way back above ground, we realized the time was late and that we could only think about getting a meal; yoga would have to wait a week, but it was worth it. We made our way into Luray's historical downtown and stopped at the "Artisan's Cafe," which had lovely vegetarian fare (E got a mozzarella, tomato, and basil sandwich, and I had a portobello mushroom sandwich with herbs and a beautiful mayonnaise). Their cole slaw was fabulous, so good I ordered a second order to take home.

We drove home the same route, admiring trees again and navigating the windy roads, thankful that such a road exists that took us for an adventure not planned.

Working on the Land

2010-10-18T11:29:00.006-04:00

Why is it when I finally get motivated to tear up the yard and build a new patio that my body goes out on me? Sometimes, I just have to wonder. Is this a real problem or is it just a stress-related problem.

My shoulder and neck seized up on me Saturday morning of this past weekend; it's been a while since I've had an injury of this sort. Of course, it happened the day I was taking a long bus ride with friends to a wine festival; popped several Advil to get through the day (the wine helped a bit, too). (http://www.historiclongbranch.com/balloonfest/

The day in the Shenandoah area was just gorgeous; a little too windy for the proposed balloon festival, but there was plenty to see and do. Besides the wine tastings, which was insanely crowded, there were craft/product tents, a kids' play area, model airplane flying, a classic car show (my fave), and just gobs of beautiful scenery to soak up on the beautiful early Fall day.

I boarded the bus knowing several folks, but then other friends showed up that I did not know were going and that made it a real party. Our host organized a good trip, provided "prizes" that were to be worn all day (my friend Angel looked especially good in his red, white, and blue feather boa and another friend got the oversized Elvis Presley glasses which were a hot commodity) and the drive out was easy and, like I said, gorgeous with colorful country vistas.

We got to the site, found a good spot for our picnic, ate, and then went visiting. Bands were playing around the clock on the front lawn of the Longbranch House, so a few friends and I sat on the hill overlooking horse pastures, listening to music and watching the model airplanes and helicopters take to the skies. Laying back in the grass and closing my eyes for a quick snooze while being pleasantly warmed by the sun was fantastic.

Earlier in the day, I found out that an old friend of mine was going to be there (SOMEWHERE in the throngs) and I made it my goal that day to find him and his friends. After rousing from my napette, I looked around, saw him at the top of the hill, and ran up to greet him. His partner was there and I met a new friend, too. Just perfect!

My friend and I met years ago when I worked at GEICO as an events coordinator; we used to put on skits and plays for celebrations and I was always looking for actors. Well, I saw this guy in the elevator one day and went right up to him and said to him that he would be so perfect in our shows because he was tall and good looking! (Did I really say that? Yes, I think so, even though I was not quite as outspoken then as I am now.) He went on to play some great roles as Ricky Ricardo and Rhett Butler; I told you we put on some PRODUCTIONS, eh???

So that was great, we took a picture together, and then parted ways after hugs all around.

Went back to my friends, who wanted some time to themselves, so I wandered off, but was caught off guard by a familiar strain of music, but in a funky genre and different instruments. I had to listen for a minute to make sure, but hell yeah, the bluegrass band was doing their own cover of "I Will Survive" by Gloria Gaynor. I laughed out loud and thought of my friend Karen, who sings this song every time we get together. It is especially poignant at this time in her life as she is dealing with cancer. I will give the band credit; they didn't do too bad on the song once I could wrap my head around it.

My neck and shoulder pain started coming back on the bus ride home and I really just wanted to relax--others were in the relax mode, too, but some made a point of being very loud, so next trip I'm bringing earplugs (I usually do carry them).

So, this brings me back to the yard work; my husband and I went out yesterday to mark out the patio that will be coming off the deck in the back yard. A friend of ours, a very talented landscape artist, was hired a while back to create a plan for our yard, not too stuffy and formal, but relaxed and keeping the woodsy "feel" to the place. The patio is a great idea and will extend our outdoor living space considerably--our firepit will be moved, too, thankfully, as its old location was in a bad place according to feng shui practices. Dismantling that yesterday was a good move in many ways.

I just hated that I wanted to start digging and moving earth and couldn't do anything but move bricks. I may have to invite friends over for a work party, which I've hesitated doing even though I see it work so well for others. Maybe if I make a big pot of chili . . . .

Fuddy Duddy

2010-10-12T22:20:00.004-04:00

Yep, that's my new name. I think I might be one of those people you can't get out of the house once they come home at some point during the day. A friend and I were talking about this today because we were wondering why certain people do not come to my house concerts. It's because once they come home from work, they're in for the night except for really special occasions.

I find myself turning into that kind of a person rather quickly; it seemed to start during the summer. Part of it may be because I was driving up to D.C. a lot to take my friend to her chemo/radiation appointments at G.W. After the drive up and back, I was beat, especially when my timing was not so good for avoiding that sucky I-95 traffic. I noticed I don't get mad during traffic jams anymore, but it does wear me out. When I was a younger commuter, I would turn the radio way up and jam all the way home, hardly noticing the passing of time.

Now, at my over-50 status, I still turn the radio way up, embarrassing myself by singing at the top of my lungs, but the energy usage for all these fun activities really takes its toll. I'm sure the worry I had for my friend did not help much and sometimes the long hours of waiting at various facilities. You might remember, though, that the shortest time of wait was when I found that cool touch table; I was so into that table. I wanted to play all the games, be a DJ, paint, etc., but her appointment there lasted five minutes. Darn!!!

Then came the Cape Cod vacation and I think I have never had a harder time returning to my "normal" (psychotic, crazed, busy, busy, busy, nutso) life. I still don't think I'm back. I did almost NOTHING during the whole month of August; I was so depressed. Blah!

Things started picking up again in September, with school and soccer for Elliott, my need to get back to pottery with commission work due, and, of course, house concerts to schedule. But I was (and still am) feeling weird and not really wanting the same social aspects of my life before summer--still feeling my way through it, but unless someone specifically asks me to meet them for lunch at a certain place and at a certain time, or has another event scheduled, I am more likely not to go out.

I used to have a standing date with a number of friends to hit a certain bar/restaurant every Tuesday night and also another bar/restaurant on Thursday nights (smaller group, not as loud, our secret). I haven't been out to one of these evenings in a long time and really have no desire to anytime soon. I do see some folks, but like I said, it has to be a scheduled event and I will have had to think about and make the commitment. I guess the spontaneity may have up and gone!

Actually, I remember a few weeks ago, I did stop by the Tuesday night bar because I was driving home from staying late at the studio and saw a friend outside. I parked the car, went to say hello, we sat down outside (and didn't get the usual quick service we expect), then we just kind of looked at each other resignedly and she said, "You know, we should just go home and get some sleep." I nodded in agreement, we laughed about how old we were getting, and left and we both actually did go home and rest.

And you know what is really scary? I am uber-caffeinated all the time. Sad statement.

Decompressing

2010-10-11T10:51:00.002-04:00

Oh my, what a weekend! One of the best in a long time, but getting there sure stressed me out!

A friend in the Fellowship approached me months ago about helping to set up a comedy show/fundraiser for the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Fredericksburg (UUFF) building fund. Of course, I said yes, because I always like to be busy and love putting on shows -- I do have a Judy Garland/Mickey Rooney complex! She suggested her friend, comedian Sue Ryerson, whom she had gone to high school with as the guest while I worked on getting an opening act.

But, like usual, I do take a it a bit too seriously and get sidelined in my life for a while. Throw in a couple of house concerts, traveling, getting Elliott back to school, working on two commissions in pottery, advising on setting up an art gallery in Maryland, oh, and of course, several weeks of crazy in between, and I've been so out of the loop . . . and I get cranky, grumpy, and turn into a raging b*tch!

Because I want perfection in whatever event I am planning, I do become immersed. But, as always, the shows are just a blast!

This weekend with Sue was no exception! Meeting her for the first time on Friday night at a welcome dinner, we all hit it off very well and it was extremely comfortable getting to know her. What a benefit to spend some time with an entertainer before they do the show; usually it's only an hour or so. This dinner lasted for most of us until 11pm and then I heard that the rest of the family and Sue stayed up chatting until 1am! And I hear she's quite good at nerf guns! There was talk of diving over furniture . . . wonder what Chris's house looks like now???

On Saturday, everything came together so well. Sue's friend Chris, who is part of our Fellowship, got her committees working and the place was decked out with food and decoration in no time. There was one glitch: I went out to get ice and after placing the bags in the fridge, conveniently locked the kitchen keys in the kitchen! Oy! So back out to get more ice.

I had been informed that Friday that I would be introducing the opening act! Yikes! Always nervous of doing anything in front of people and a microphone, I did relax because I would be introducing someone I know.

Greg Marsh, our opener, is an old friend of mine from my GEICO days. He is the Manager of Associate Communications at the head office in Chevy Chase. I had the most awesome job at GEICO (in my humble opinion); I organized celebratory events, got to shop for costumes and funny props, took lots of photographs (portrait and event), and also was the editor/writer of the regional communication newsletter. Greg was a great person to have as an advisor because he appreciated the fact that I could write and knew the mechanics of pulling together a newsletter. His advice over the years helped me greatly and is much appreciated.

Greg's day job is a good one and he is very good at it, but he also loves music--he has been on my list to get down this way for a house concert with his band, The Marsh Brothers Band. When he heard that I was putting on a comedy show, he said, "Hey, I do funny stuff!" So I said, why not? I trusted my gut on this one because (and don't tell anyone this, I had never heard him sing a lick before!!!) and it paid back in heaps of laughter!

I was nervous walking out on that stage to make the introduction, but it went fairly smoothly--the only problem I had was not being able to see the crowd for all the lights. I don't know how entertainers get used to that part of the show.

But the show went on, Greg killed us with his deadpan songwriting humor, and then Sue killed us with her unique observational comedy routine. I loved the sound of all the laughter, I loved how it felt like a real community in that room that night, and thankfully, we had a lot of folks who were not Fellowship members. I mean that nicely, in that we were able to reach out to folks beyond our familiar borders and schmooze with them before, during the break, and after the show.

I hope this is the beginning of a different way of looking at the way we do fundraisers; not depending solely on the members' money. There is going to be a yard sale on October 23 at the Fellowship, but we usually don't do fundraisers that bring in folks from the outside. Time to make a shift in the paradigm!

So, now it's time to decompress and think about everything that worked and how to tweak things to be more efficient next time. And to remember something Sue said on Saturday night and roll once again with laughter!

Fundraiser for UUFF Building in Weekender Section of Free Lance-Star

2010-10-07T09:18:00.002-04:00

COMEDIAN HAS SHARED THE STAGE WITH ROSIE O'DONNELL AND MORE

'Bringing Down the House to Raise the Roof' featuring comedian Sue Ryerson at UUFF

Date published: 10/7/2010

BY CRAIG SCHULIN

After performing at such well-known comedy clubs as Rascals in New Jersey, The Improv in New York and Stitches in Boston, comedian Sue Ryerson decided to make it really big by moving to Georgia.

Georgia?

Actually, Ryerson left show biz for a while--and in the subsequent years, she found a passion in caring for horses in need of rescue. (She currently has four.)

Then, about 21/2 years ago, she found herself back onstage.

"I missed it," said Ryerson. "And after some prodding by friends, I got back into comedy."

Recently, Ryerson reconnected with an old high school pal from her home state of New Jersey.

As it turned out, this friend lives in the Fredericksburg area now and is a member of the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Fredericksburg.

For those unfamiliar with the UUFF, the fellowship describes itself as "a diverse community of those that seek philosophical, spiritual, intellectual or religious growth in a forum of mutual respect."

The UUFF recently purchased 5 acres of land in southern Stafford County, and is moving ahead with a new 8,000-square-foot building.

"We started outgrowing the space we had in the city," said Ruth Golden, the organizer of the comedy show. "We were holding events that were too large for the old building."

Equally important, Golden pointed out, was a desire to have a building that the UUFF built on its own.

In fact, much of the work on the building will be done by volunteers from the UUFF, putting to use such talents as computer-assisted design and landscaping.

But funding is still needed--and Ryerson's appearance in Fredericksburg is part of the fundraising effort.

She'll be performing her "observational style" of comedy--a profession she honed years ago alongside some big names in the business.

Very early in her career she met and worked the same clubs with a comedian named Rosie O'Donnell.

"I met her when I was just starting out and Rosie had been doing comedy for about a year," said Ryerson.

"She is just the nicest person in comedy, and gave me some great pointers about being in what was then a very male-dominated profession," said Ryerson.

Ryerson will be the headliner at the show this Saturday evening, which also features musician Greg Marsh.

Craig Schulin: 540/374-5000
Email: cschulin@freelancestar.com

What: "Bringing Down the House to Raise the Roof," featuring comedian Sue Ryerson Where: Central Rappahannock Regional Library theater, 1201 Caroline St., Fredericksburg When: Saturday; doors open at 6:30 p.m. Cost: $15 in advance, $20 at the door Info: 540/846-2380; houseabouttonight .blogspot.com; susanryerson.com. Pre-show light hors d'oeuvres and beverages. Some adult material may not be suitable for young children.

Pushing Daisies and Pies

2010-10-02T12:13:00.003-04:00

For months now, my friend Ana has been suggesting that I watch the series, "Pushing Daisies." For months now, I've been delaying; that is, until last week. Because I don't have television, I am seriously way behind in seeing any series, but thank the heavens for Netflix, which I generously use for my video fixes.

The premise of the show is that a young boy finds that he has a special power; with one touch, he can bring the dead to life. The not-so-special part of it is that if he touches the dead-that-is-now-alive person/animal/plant, etc., again, they are dead, dead, dead, for good. As a grown-up business owner, he and an investigator have this slick business where they visit the local mortuary and, as part of their "investigation," they bring back to life the victims of murder, asking "who did it" so that they can collect the reward money--only problem is, they only have one minute to get the information they desire. After a minute, if the already-dead person is not made dead again, another person in close proximity will die. Got it? Okay.

Everything is going along just dandy until his former crush, Chuck (Charlotte), from when he was 11, ends up in the coffin as a murder victim. He touches her to get info, realizes he still pines for her, and leaves her alive. Someone else does die and she gets to hang around in close proximity. I say in close proximity because you remember that if he touches her again she would be dead, dead, dead for good. So, suffice it to say, there are lots of googly eyes and pouts and longing looks, but no touchy-touchy.

So that brings me to this resurrection guy's career in the series; he's a pie maker. His little shop is called "The Pie Hole," which, to me, if very UN-appetizing, but it makes way for a good joke line later in Season One of the series. (Sadly, the series was not renewed after the second season -- boo! Guess there were only so many scenarios possible.) In the episode I mentioned, a candymaker moves across the street and the candy villianess (played ably by Molly Shannon) vows to destroy them - bwahahahahaha! One day, the "L" and the "E" have been disabled in the neon pie store sign, which leads to the joke in which one of the women says, "We're not Pie Ho's."

Elliott has been watching several of the episodes with me and we cracked up at the reference; little did I know that he was storing it in his arsenal of witty comebacks. Remember, he is 11.

So, before I tell you THAT part of the story, I just want to say that I seriously want Chuck's clothes from the television show--awesome and gorgeous retro-style women's clothing that I have always adores. Also, what's up with all the cleavage in the show? Every outfit is very cleavacious; even with the older women in the cast. Hmmm.

Okay, so back to pies. Two days ago, my daughter and I got together and spent the day in the kitchen making things from apples. I'd been craving an apple pie for a long time and just decided to do it!

I love any time spent with my daughter, but the kitchen seems to be our holy ground. She has become a great cook, probably much better than me, and it is with joy that I work beside her, watching her work efficiently and quickly and with such skill. That morning, we made two of her original-recipe pies that contained apples, pears, apple butter, raisins, streusel, and caramel sauce. Absofreakinlutely delicious and beautiful to look at, too!

The third pie we made was an apple and green chili pie with cheddar cheese shredded on the top of the bottom crust with a streusel sprinkled on top, also. Breakfast this morning included not one, but two, slices of this pie. You see, it had to sit for four hours yesterday before I could eat it and by then, I was already downtown for First Friday activites.

All I have to say is the sweet and mildly hot of this pie makes it a real winner! First time I used one of my own hand-made pie plates for cooking and it turned out wonderfully! Yay!

After that, we had more chopped apples left, so we made apple bundles. Croissant dough sliced in half long-ways, apples rolled up into it, a splash or orange juice on top, and a bit of sugar sprinkled on top for crunch. Dipped into caramel sauce, you'd thought you'd reached apple nirvana.

If I could, I'd have this time with Amy every week; as it stands, I'm going to attempt every two weeks. I love good company in the kitchen when I'm cooking, I love when someone knows what they're doing in the kitchen, and I love the end results of all that great work. (Took some of those apple bundles to Libertytown last night for the opening and they were gone in minutes!)

So, when Elliott got home from school and saw all the wonderful treats cooling on the counter, he said, "Ha! So you and Amy were Pie Ho's today, eh?"

Rainy-Day Chalice Making

2010-09-30T09:20:00.003-04:00

Heading back to the studio today to rework my chalice idea. My son and I worked on the first idea and it literally took him about five minutes to "get" what I was talking about and come up with a design. We built something that day, but I made a mistake and left the clay on a slump mold, which leached all the water too quickly from the clay and it separated at integral points.

So, back to the drawing board, and I've come up with another design, which, after looking at it again, I really do not like. I think it will be a great garden ornament.

SO, yesterday, I began the third attempt and hope that it is going to be suitable for what I'm thinking--simpler and not so flashy. Sometimes I wonder why I took this on, but I seem to always like a challenge.

Speaking of challenges, the tea sets are coming along. The rest of the batch went into bisque fire yesterday, so glazing will be within the next week or two and I should have finished products before the end of the month. Glad to wait until the end of the month anyway, because I put one in the newest show at Libertytown. The show is '6"x6"x6"' in which no submission can be bigger than six inches any way you measure it. Very cool idea and as I was present during the hanging, another winner of a show from Libertytown. I don't know where they keep getting these great ideas for shows, but they've all been fantastic.

I've been inviting friends to come see me while I'm at Libertytown these days and it is so cool. The first day I posted the idea to visit, I had seven visitors. That was great and friends are still trickling in. Libertytown is such a gift to our community that I want to share it with everyone. Even relatives visiting from Baltimore got the tour and they loved it so much.

Gives me hope for the future in that we may actually have a downtown performance space and cultural center that embraces not only our local art but traveling art shows from beyond our borders.

Libertytown is where I find cameraderie, joy, inspiration, and visual and tactile treats every day. I wouldn't want to be any where else. So come by and see me today, okay?

Local Newspaper Coverage of Libertytown Visiting Artists Program

2010-09-27T14:52:00.000-04:00

Ceremony

2010-09-24T00:23:00.004-04:00

So grateful to have the time and energy to experiment with clay, slips, and glazes at Libertytown Arts Workshop. The manic energy I enjoyed over the weekend lasted into the week a bit and I ended up glazing ALL the leftover bowls from last year's "Empty Bowl" Fundraiser. I had made a huge amount of bowls and had them stashed away in their bisqued form, thinking I might invite a group of friends in to decorate them and then be able to take home their own personalized bowl.

Bamp! I dug into those boxes with such a fervor in the hopes of testing new glaze and slip combinations just to feed that excitement that had begun last week.

I plowed, slowly but surely, through all the bowls. They are done--finis! At least with my part; currently, some of them are searing hot after a run in the kiln.

The joy I want to share today is that some of my test pieces came out and they turned out wonderfully. I had used a brown clay to make the tea sets. Then, because I was working to copy the one from the salon, I put a thick slip of white over the clay before it was bisqued. After bisque firing, I dipped the pieces in a clear glaze and thickly splattered with various size paintbrushes, beginning with weathered bronze, moving to blue that a friend had offered, and then to tundra green. The blue did not do as well as I thought it might, the tundra has not come out of the kiln yet, but the weathered bronze on the white slipped pieces is just lovely.

What it did is to provide a light bit of color and texture on something that was just too plain; another pleasant surprise is that the specks in the brown clay emerged beautifully through the slip, enhancing the pots even more, making them seem gracefully aged.

B, one of the assistants at Libertytown, happily greeted me when I went in today to check on the progress of the work. She said she was happy with them and hoped I would be, too. And yes, I am very happy with them.

In the hopes that I can share that joy with my friends who will visit, the tea set, entitled "Ceremony," has been entered into the "6x6x6" juried art exhibit at Libertytown; opening night is next Friday, October 1. Hope to see you there!!!

Art and Bliss

2010-09-21T23:31:00.003-04:00

Today I felt a renewed sense of spirit and love towards my art of choosing: pottery.

I've been working on a project for some time now (after procrastinating for MONTHS) and hesitantly have been moving forward step by step, learning at every one of those steps, and toiling diligently to finish the project.

Making Japanese-style teacups for a Japanese client (my hairdresser) is a little stressful, but I finally believe I am in the flow and things are progressing nicely.

I wanted to mimic the model I was given to create the teacups and saucers, even down to the brown clay covered by white slip. Don't ask me why; it's just one of my (many) quirks. Focused and sweating, I've been able to get the saucers to be very close in size, as well as the teacups. Consistency in size has never been a strong point for me, but mostly because I was not in the moment and I definitely was not paying attention.

Bisque-fired and brilliant in its whiteness, the first test teacup and saucer was beautiful. But it was plain and boring; I wondered whether to leave the color (or lack thereof) the same or add something of a decorative touch. I couldn't decide, so plodded along on the other cups and saucers (large and small ones, to give my client a choice).

Took some time off from the pottery this weekend to travel to West Virginia with some dear girlfriends to check out a house for retreat purposes for one of the friends. At one point, we were all upstairs in the loft--T on the twin bed, C and me on the queen, and C mentions that when her sister arrives that she will say, "Hell-oooo!" A few minutes later, her sister arrived and announced herself with the same exact "Hell-oooo" that had just been uttered. Too funny and we were cracking ourselves up with hearty laughter. The sister came upstairs and lay down on the bed between C and me and we laughed and talked until it was time to get some lunch.

The drive to and from West Virginia was a total hoot; from the guy at the gas station who offered that he lived way up on the mountain, so far up that even the post office didn't deliver, that even the snow went around him. Said the land had been in the family since the '60s, when his family decided to take an acre or so and cultivate pot on it. O-kay! My sense is that they're still growing (and smoking) that stuff on his mountain to this day.

The amount of good and positive feelings from this sisterhood and great moments of laughter melted away any stress I may have thought was waiting back home for me. A great Monday night session of yoga with my traveling companions and other seriously groovy people just extended the great juju into the week. I also had a table session of deep breathing and meditation with my healer right after yoga.

So, I don't think it's a coincidence that my design idea for the teacups came like a flash today on my way to the studio. Oh, and I was playing Deva Premal on the CD player during the drive.

I believe that my intentions finally were so clear in my head that the Universe paved a way through my thick skull for me to see what was right in front of me the whole time. I went into the studio with renewed purpose and joy, yes, JOY, combined with a manic energy and excitement. I only had the one tea set to practice on and wanted to do more, more, more--so I pulled out my three boxes of leftover bowls from last year's "Empty Bowl" fundraiser and started testing decorating ideas on them.

It was so much fun and while glazing usually makes me nervous because it is the last step in so many toward the final product, it didn't slow me down and I glazed and decorated with utter abandon and freedom. I know I was beaming!

My post on Facebook later today was this:

One of my favorite things in the world is to experience the beauty of an inspired artist; today, that beauty came from me.

Brezsny Does It Again!

2010-09-21T17:29:00.002-04:00

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): I'm getting excited to see what you'll create in the coming weeks. You're slipping into the most expressive groove you've been in for a while. I'm guessing that any minute now your imagination will start churning out a wealth of fresh perspectives and new approaches. Half-rotting problems that have just sat there immobile for weeks or even months will begin morphing into opportunities as you zap them with your frisky grace. Misunderstandings that have festered far too long will get cleansed and salved by your tricky ingenuity. Get the party started!

What I Did on My Summer Vacation or Cape Cod is Full of Holes

2010-09-04T12:35:00.003-04:00

Cape Cod is full of holes and I now consider at least one of them my favorite swimming hole on the East Coast. Cliff Pond at Nickerson State Park in Brewster, Massachusetts is clear, cool, and comfortable. While the beach still has a huge allure for me, the pond is restful and calming.

The beach draws me because of the sounds of the waves crashing to the shore, the call of the shore birds as they do their dance on the sands, and of course, the always-entertaining people who either call the shore home or come to visit.

Cliff Pond is large enough for sailing in a small boat because there always seems to be a nice breeze blowing. My favorite activity besides just laying out on a float was to kayak from our small beach hangout over to some big rocks straight across the pond; it was a good workout and after coming ashore, sitting on the warm rocks offered a respite or, if one were in an adventurous mood, a climb to the top of the rock and a jump off into the water would be an exhilarating way to get the blood pumping for the rest of the day's activities. (to be continued)

Shelling Black-Eyed Peas on the Porch

2010-08-20T21:23:00.003-04:00

Yesterday, I picked up my full bag from the local CSA. In it were fall squashes, eggplants, okra, and lots of beans, a huge bag. When I asked what they were, I found out they were black-eyed peas. Wow! I'd never had fresh black-eyed peas before (except maybe at my grandmother's in Mississippi way back in the 60s).

Attacked them today with a vengeance, shelling them and picking through the caterpillars and grass to find the treasure within. At one point, I got bored and wanted to stop (my ADD kicking in), but I perservered and ended up with a big bowl of beans. Some of the beans had dried a bit and had shrunk considerably from the juicier, fresher ones in the batch.

Rinsing in the colander and adding them to a pot of hot water on the stove made me happy. I threw in a little turkey bacon for flavoring (don't do pork anymore) and was rewarded after a bit with a delicious aroma filling the house. Added some bay leaves and more water and put a lid on so the beans could simmer down and cook in their juices.

Just this little bit of home cooking got me thinking about how much of it I don't do anymore. I can't quite figure out why, either. The joy I get from cooking is huge. The joy I get from eating what I've cooked is even bigger.

I want a garden. I want a little plot of land in the sun to grow my own vegetables. I want to be able to go out and pick a fresh tomato off the vine and eat it over my kitchen sink, the warm juiciness of summer running down my chin. I want to get an ear of corn, heat it until it is just done, sprinkle on a little sea salt, and then have a feast of taste.

Maybe I just want to go back to a simpler life, not that it is simple at all. Actually, the so-called "simple" life is much harder and grittier than anything I've ever known. You get dirt under your fingernails and into your skin. You become closer to nature, not because you're out with your camera, but because you're faced with it every day.

Even today, picking through the beans, we confronted nature on several levels whether it was the dirt under the fingernails or the worms in the beans. And it felt good; it felt okay; it felt right.

What I'm missing is something visceral. I think I got a taste of it while camping on Cape Cod. Waking up in the screen house with only a small net between me and the real world felt fresh and new. Swimming in the clear-water pond lifted me with a buoyancy I'd not felt in years. Is this my mid-life crisis? Should I go out and buy a Maserati or something?

No, I believe I need to slow down, limit my crazy nights out on the town, and come back home and learn to live in the moment, whether it is shelling beans, or making bread, or sitting by my pond watching the frogs.

Nature is calling; gotta sit!

It's Still Alive in the 'Burg

2010-08-09T22:22:00.005-04:00

Perception is everything, isn't it? Racism is supposed to be a thing of the past, isn't it? The color of ones' skin doesn't matter anymore, does it?

I'm not sure how to read an experience I had tonight; I am hoping that by writing about it, I can figure it out and process it some and it won't be the experience I thought it was at all.

After a great Stony Man concert on the library steps (which has been going on for 25 years!!! Bless those people at the library!), a friend and I walked up to an art opening for a friend of ours (Cheryl Bosch at Bistro Bethem--if you weren't there tonight, get over there sometime during the month. While you're there, please look longingly at the painting of the old Packard--I did not get there quickly enough to buy it (my former friend Dave got there before I did--just kidding, I still like you, Dave . . . kind of).

Anyway, it's a great painting and please also notice the brilliant framing job that was a joint effort of Cheryl and her very talented mom, Dot.)

We stayed there a little while, but decided we wanted a little quiet time to ourselves, so we walked over to Capital Ale to hang out and have a beer. Her son was supposed to be there, but had already left, so we made our way to the far back room where the leather chairs and couches are and sat a while. We finally flagged down someone and asked for service and eventually a very nice waiter helped us out.

My friend was called away earlier than expected, so I sat by myself and finished off my dessert. While I was slurping up the melted ice cream on the apple pie a la mode, two young black men walked in the room and asked whether I was holding the large couch across from me; I replied no, so they sat and chatted. After five minutes, another young black man joined them and sat in the chair next to me.

I was waiting for my check, so I had no problem with them waiting to be the next go round for our server. When I was handed my check, one of the young men asked the server whether they could get served there.

All of a sudden, my "nice" server was no longer so nice anymore. He seemed very put out by the request, and replied, rather tersely and nervously that " . . . we're really slammed up front and if we get time, we can serve folks back here, but it really depends on what is going on up front!" He then backed away and resumed his front-room duties.

I was a bit put out by his response, but I just signed my check and got ready to leave. I made a few calendar notes, sent a note to my email, and finished my Coke.

If this situation had been presented in a well-written and well thought out novel, I would have handled the situation differently and with some imagination.

When the response was given by the server to these young men, the novel Ruth would have jumped up and said, "These young men are with me this evening; please make sure to give them the same great service you just gave me and my friend."

But, the novel Ruth was asleep at the wheel. The non-fiction Ruth sat and waited to see how things would play out.

They played out exactly how the server "might" have wanted; the young men discussed the situation amongst themselves and decided to go somewhere else. So they left. Then I left the premises also, after noticing a second round of beer being delivered to the table peopled by all whites directly behind the couch on which the young black men had been sitting.

It saddens me that in this year 2010 that these types of situations are still being played out every day; I thought we had come a bit further than that, but I guess I was mistaken.

Home Again, Home Again

2010-07-12T18:36:00.005-04:00

After nine days away, I cannot even begin to express how wonderful it was to fall into my own bed last night. The boys stayed on the shore for an extra day, so even better, I had the whole bed to myself.

I turned it down to 24 (I have a SleepNumber), and made a mattressy hammock for myself to squinch into for a good night's rest. It was perfect. The beds on the road were not too bad; the one at the first Inn was decent, but I'm used to a little movement. The one in Cape May was a little less comfortable. The best one on the trip was actually in our camper; that bed has always been comfortable. Maybe it was enhanced by my being gently lulled to sleep by frogs and crickets and whatever else makes noise on the shore during the night.

We're taking the RV on the next leg of our vacation next week, so I'm thankful for the comfort.

After all this time at the beach, I have decided that I am a consumate beach sitter; I don't always have to be swimming or boogie-boarding, though I do enjoy both if the water is temperate. Real cold water is not an option for me. Besides making my skin hurt, my steel rod and screws in the right leg act as cold conduits and that is painful.

But I could literally sit at the beach all day; give me a good book, couple of magazines, water and other drinks, a few snacks, leave me in the a.m. under the umbrella and come back and find me in the same place in the p.m. (Of course, I do get up occasionally to walk on the beach, get my feet wet, pee in the ocean . . . .)

Otherwise, I'm like a statue, but unlike a statue, I eat lots of cookies as I am observing everything. The gorgeous older woman in front of me of whom I am severely jealous because she looks so good! Ach.

The young couple on the right side of me who hail from New York and start chatting with a very chatty older (flashier) couple from somewhere else. I notice the discomfort when the chatting goes on a bit long on the chatty couple's side and can feel the younger couple wanting the conversation to end five minutes ago.

The young mother behind me who has a whiny voice that makes me want to do her bodily harm; I swear she repeated her husband Dennis's name ten times before he answered her (I feel for the guy and you can see that I remember his name because it was repeated so much). She actually told her month or so old baby that the toddler who didn't want to stop playing long enough to take a photo with them did so because he "hated" them. Egads! "Someone please put a towel down so that I can kneel on it!" Get your own damn towel! Grrrr.

And this happens on almost every beach I've ever been on, whether it's the East or West coast. The Of-European-Descent Father with the bulging belly and tiny Speedo who thinks it is his duty to instill some manliness into his son by whipping the kid's ass in a wrestling match in the surf which really only serves to instill in his son resentment that his dad feels he (the Dad) needs to constantly prove HE's the top dog. (Don't worry, kid; with that belly, he'll probably die of a heart attack soon enough and you can inherit his fake gold watch.) Oy!

Oh, and yes, the young girls bouncing along the beach, preening like male birds for the lifeguards. Funny to watch how often this happens and how obvious it is, but the guys seem to handle it fairly well. I'm sure they get it all the time, anyway.

There are so many more stories, control freaks, more whiners, loud talkers, cigar smokers, etc., and I may add onto this as I recall incidents. Feel free to share your most memorable beach memories here, if you like. I'm under my umbrella; I've got all day.

Sun-Baked Musings

2010-07-08T00:28:00.004-04:00

Time spent on the water is reflective, both literally and figuratively. Two days ago, we attempted, as a family, to visit a wildlife refuge to learn about the birds and animals that are native to this area and the efforts that are going into preserving their habitats. It was also near a spot that looked good for kayaking.

We entered the preserve and found out that because of the holiday the park office was closed, but decided we would continue on by doing the 8-mile nature drive. We started driving and were immediately beseiged by the state bird of New Jersey, the green-headed fly. We had at least 15 of the flies in our car, many of which had made a bee (fly?) line for our meaty limbs. Ouch! Ouch! OUCH!

We rolled up the windows quickly to avoid entrance to any more of those chewing monsters and starting taking down the green-headed fly population smack by smack! Disappointed, we continued on our trek around the preserve, but with windows up and the air conditioning on, not my preferred way of visiting, but we were desperate.

Beautiful birds, turtles, butterflies, and plants and flowers rolled by us. Even with our limited access to nature, we enjoyed it in all of its marvelous perfection.

Kayaking afterwards was out of the question; I could not imagine how I could kayak with those swarms of flies. So we changed our plans for that day, had an early lunch at a nice mom-and-pop restaurant, and then headed back to the soothing waves of the beach.

The next day, we found a public beach on the bay side and decided we would put the kayak in there. Fewer flies and a shady porch were real draws. I pushed off not sre where I would go, but we decided it would be best for me to paddle so that my return trip would match the incoming tide and make my trip easier. I set off and made my way through channels, keeping my eye out for marks, and saw yet another amazing place up close and personal. I am new to kayaking and have found that the wonder of being able to see nature in this manner affords a different perspective than from any other kind of boat. It also makes me realize that these natural places are so perfect, absolutely perfect, for all the living beings that are a part of that ecosystem.

Even though I was a little worried about getting lost, I found that the channels were easy to navigate and I was able to read the water well enough to find that one of the channels made its way easily out to the bay from which I had started. I came into the beach from a different direction, surprising my family.

After I landed the kayak, Gary challenged me to a swim. I was okay with that because the water didn't seem too cold. But no, he wasn't talking about entering the water by walking in. He wanted us to jump off of the dock! I took the challenge, doffed my cap and glasses, and in I jumped! It was pretty darn cold, but so refreshing. And very salty! That was hard going up the nose!

That little beach was a great discovery! A couple who was also visiting there with their kids said they'd been coming to the Jersey shore for a long time and had never known about the beach. A treat for us, to be sure, and before the green-heads started getting nasty there, we had a nice visit from a horseshoe crab who seemed to be quite smitten with the legs of my beach chair! Only in New Jersey!

Random Vacation Thoughts

2010-07-05T21:11:00.002-04:00

Day 3 of our vacation in New Jersey. How did we end up in New Jersey? I bought a week's vacation at a Fellowship auction. A few people who own timeshares gave a week to the Fellowship. The timeshare was auctioned for the highest price with the money going back to the Fellowship. A great idea and an even greater thing for those of us who make the right bids.

I had never heard of Brigantine Island before the auction, but two things stuck out: beach and very inexpensive asking price. A very short distance from Atlantic City, Brigantine Island is a nice, low-key family-friendly town.

I had no challenge on the bid and got the week for a song. So here we are, staying in a condo in an historical old building right on the beach. As I write, I hear the night waves pounding against the sand, creating a whole new shoreline for our visit tomorrow.

We are having a wonderful time, but now I get to the crux of this blog. As much as I enjoy being with my husband and son, I'm really missing my other kids. They have their own lives now and are out of the house, but sometimes I want to turn back the clock to when they were younger and we could all get away together for a vacation.

I enjoy their company so much and would love to spend more time with them, especially for an extended time of leisure. All this makes me think that having a house on (or near) the beach would be such a good investment. My husband disagrees.

I think I would go and stay for a month at a time, just chilling and writing and visiting nearby sites. He thinks I'd be bored stiff after a week.

I think it would be awesome to have the house available to family and friends, whether they want to be there when we are or to have it for themselves at other times.

Maybe I am being overly romantic about it; maybe I'm just thinking of novels I've read where all sorts of exciting and provocative things happen during summer vacations at the beach.

Those emotions are getting stirred up especially so here because of the history of the people in the city getting out of the dreaded summer heat by heading out for the shore houses. I can feel that excitement and hubbub even though it is a different kind of hustle and bustle than before.

The July 4th excitement is over and now the beachgoers are less and the streets are less traveled. The bar downstairs is quieter and maybe tonight sleep will come a bit easier.

Already I'm thinking the waves and the sand will be beckoning me again tomorrow.

Summer House Concert Series Reflection

2010-06-20T13:20:00.001-04:00

House About Tonight Productions kicked off the summer series of house concerts with a great local band from Fredericksburg, "Un Mundo." A record crowd with a lot of new people, great food, lots of dancing, and the hottest music around!

Last night, there were nine musicians under the tent at Hartwood. Our venue in Hartwood is three acres of beautiful farm and cleared land; a wonderful oasis from the hustle bustle of the city.

Un Mundo delivered and then some! I don't usually write a review after every show, but last night's show really stood out. Three sets of amazing music that kept everyone dancing all night long, even though the temperatures were hot, hot, hot!

I've seen and heard Un Mundo twice; once at Mary Washington at the Multicultural Fair and once at the Loft (now the Otter House) in downtown Fredericksburg.

I used to go out a lot more than I do now to listen to bands and I always look for that something extra that makes a group special, whether it is their music, lyrics or the way they relate to the audience. Un Mundo satisfied all three requirements easily.

What made them go over the top for me is that not only does their name mean "One World," the words "Un Mundo" embody their effect on people. Most clubs I would go into would have a very white audience, not that there's anything wrong with that generally, but I wanted more: a real sense of community in music.

First of all, when I went to hear "Un Mundo" at the Otter House, not only was the place packed to the gills, it was packed with people of many different races.

That, to me, really stood out and I saw it as a most wonderful thing. And SO many people were dancing. Beautiful, beautiful people grooving to a very special beat.

Last night again brought out all different kinds of people and, in the true universality of music, for one night we were all speaking the same language.

Friendship at a Cost

2010-06-16T23:30:00.002-04:00

My eleven-year-old son has been making some new friends lately, some from Cobb Island where out boat is docked and some from our close-by neighborhoods. Two such friends came over to the house right before dinner recently. A girl and a boy.

Even though I invited them, they both were not interested in dinner, so that sat at the outskirts of the deck while we dined al fresco.

Later in the evening, after the kids had gone, my son informed me that I probably would be seeing the girl around quite a bit. Flippantly, I asked him, "Why? Are you two dating?" He said, "Yes, we are." Then he smirked a little and walked out of the room to get ready for bed.

Dating? I don't think so . . . .

E and the other friend were playing with the friend's scooter two days ago. They came in all hot and sweaty and got a drink. Then I saw E reach for his wallet and pull out a dollar. I asked him what he was doing; he came close to me and said that he had been riding the scooter, so he was going to pay his friend one dollar.

I looked at him quizically and replied, "Oh no, you're not! Friends play with each others' toys; that privilege is not something you pay for! Don't even think about it!" He looked at his friend, shook his head, and then returned the dollar to his wallet. They went back out to play for a while.

When I queried my son further about why he felt he had to pay for using his friend's scooter, he confessed that the friend had actually asked for the dollar in payment.

Oh, my sweet boy; if he only realized how much like his mother he is! I fear a bit what middle school will bring as he deals with older kids, wily kids, and kids like this "friend" who asks for money as a return for allowing my son to use his scooter.

As someone who has been known for her gullibility, I may have overreacted a bit to such a small sum of money, but it wasn't really the money, but the audacity of someone who would ask for payment in a situation such as that one.

I'm just glad I didn't know about this request when the kid was leaving my house; the rain was pouring down and I offered this boy my umbrella to take on his walk home. He seemed surprised, but I said to take it and just make sure to return it when he comes next to visit.

Hmmm; maybe I should have asked for a deposit--something small, like a dollar.

Going, Going . . . Gone! Have You Seen my Brain?

2010-06-15T00:14:00.003-04:00

I lost my phone a few days ago.

My new iPhone that Gary got me for Valentine's Day; I didn't get agitated as I might usually (thanks to neurofeedback, I'm super calm these days), but I was concerned. I hate losing things, especially when I know I just had the stupid thing a few short hours before.

I retraced my steps in my head; I had it at the faux Led Zeppelin and faux Pink Floyd concert (which I enjoyed immensely--I just closed my eyes and pretended it was back in 1975 and I was sitting in the back seat of a people-stuffed Camaro listening to the eight-track of Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" over and over and over). Ah, the good old days!

Taking pics of the concert and then posting to Facebook during the break between the concert's acts, I had evidence that I was handling the phone then. After that, it is kind of a blur. The faux Led Zeppelin Band, announced that they were going to play at Hard Times Cafe after the show. When I got to my car after the concert, my husband texted me that Elliott's team won his game and he had a fabulous play (again) and they were going to celebrate at HARD TIMES CAFE--weird coincidence, eh?

So I thought I could have lost the phone there. The next morning, we were out of the house very early to get to Baltimore by 10 for a Bar Mitzvah for one of our cousins. I didn't think about the phone. The day was full and very tiring, but hugely enjoyable, as we visited an aunt and her dogs and had some much-needed catch-up time, and then we went back to the synagogue for an after-mitzvah party, which lasted late into the evening. We ate and danced and met new people; it was great.

Hadn't thought about the phone all day Sunday either, until I got home from a tea party in the early evening. At this point, I was getting a little frustrated because it wasn't in any room of the house and it was not in my car. Grrrrr!

Even though I knew the odds were huge that the phone was set to vibrate, I finally broke down and decided to call it anyway from the land line. As the number went through, I heard a low buzzing coming from somewhere in the dining room. Cocking my head, I realized the sound was in the vicinity of none other than . . . my purse!?! What???? I'd rifled through that bag several times and had convinced myself that the phone had jumped out at some point during the weekend. But no, there the phone was, in the bottom of an inside compartment, patiently waiting to be found. I was so embarrassed for myself and so thankful that no one else was around to witness the scene that had just played out.

So, yay, I got my phone back! Except I lost it again. Just a little while ago, I scrambled all over the house, retracing my steps of today, without luck.

P.S. Is this what I have to look forward to for the next thirty years of my life? Oy vey. I just patted my back pocket and realized that my phone was in it. Someone please help me.

On the Flip Side

2010-06-12T06:26:00.005-04:00

Of course, the other side to giving is receiving. One of the hardest things to do sometimes, is receiving, whether a gift, a compliment, or a helping hand.

Some of us have been brought up to think that we can do everything for ourselves or that if we can't do it ourselves, it probably isn't worth it or doesn't need to be done in the first place.

But, sometimes life throws us a curve ball and sometimes we do need help. We might need someone to talk to to help us get through the mire of everyday life, we might need someone to help us paint our house, or we might need help getting a meal on the table as we recover from an illness.

As someone who feels more comfortable giving than receiving (unless it is chocolate--then I'm like the unfledged bird in the nest--more, more, more), realizing that there are ways to receive that make the job easier certainly helps. Just saying thank you means a lot to the person helping you out; showing some thought in doing a reciprocal deed is almost always welcome.

I don't do things for my friends or strangers or the community at large to get something back (except for that warm and fuzzy feeling deep down inside), but when someone does come back to me with something in return, it sure means a lot. It doesn't have to be after every deed, either. It can be after years of giving and helping out when a warm letter arrives in the mail telling you how much your services have meant to someone.

One of my favorite things to see on a larger scale is a group like Habitat for Humanity; yes, they build houses for folks who need them all over the world, as does the Fuller Group. What is different is that they don't just pick a family, build the house, and give them the keys.

What they do, and what makes the project most hopeful, is that they ask the potential homeowners to participate in the building process. They do not sit idly by while their home is built from the ground up; they are an integral part of the process and it gives them ownership. It gives them pride. It gives them responsibility.

So, think about that the next time you help someone out and they offer something in return; I will take them up on their offer of a homemade pie, not only because I really, really like pie, but because I know they're not only going to be feeding me, they will be feeding themselves.

Good for the Soul

2010-06-10T11:12:00.002-04:00

One of the best pieces of advice I've ever gotten was from my friend Liz; during one of my early deep relaxation sessions with her, she said that one of our focuses on this earth is to serve others.

Serving others can entail so many different things, whether it is helping to empower young women and men, working to feed the hungry and homeless, or just by sending back that request envelope with a little money in it.

I am a giver by nature, but have learned over the years that giving can make you a little crazy, too. It really depends on the thought behind the giving that makes it "good" giving or "bad" giving. I used to be generous for the wrong reasons and have found that the more boundaries I have to my giving, the more meaningful the giving becomes. Giving willy-nilly takes no thought, just action.

Being mindful of the people and organizations you help is what makes the system work at its best. Music and the arts play big roles in my life and because of that, my energy goes in those directions a good percentage of the time.

After that, I donate my time, energy, or money based on what good work I see being done by a group or organization. Our local food bank, shelters for abused women and children, women's health and reproductive rights groups, mental illness rights' groups, HIV/AIDS support groups--these are all important to me.

I hope that anyone who feels the need to give will do so, not just monetarily, but also with your heart and body. Physical energy is always needed to literally "serve" others, but also think of what it does for yourself. Your soul gets such good nourishment from your actions, great or small.

The Inner Critic

2010-06-01T03:52:00.005-04:00

During lunch the other day, a friend and I fell into a conversation about our inner critics. While I had known of the presence of such an entity, until our discussion, I had not realized how much I let that other side of me drive my everyday life.

Seeing it in other people was easy; many people I know are hurting from their inner critic and it can be simple to spot them. The drug users, the heavy drinkers, the people who have one bad relationship after another, the list goes on and on. Getting into these situations makes that critic shut up for a while; getting into the land of alcoholism makes it so every easy to pretend that the inner critic is not there, as it is with drugs or other ways of acting out.

But finding that inner critic in yourself and dealing with it is very hard. One reason is just that it is a strong part of who you are and it is very manipulative and conniving. I've known people like that and once I'd gotten away from them, I wondered how I ever fell into that trap. But, I still allow the one living in me to have its way with me.

I've been thinking about this conversation I had with my friend and attempting to figure out what I am still doing to feed the inner critic without accepting that dark side and moving on.

Is it the things I do to bring good attention to myself, my house concerts, my art, my networking skills? Is it the rare night I get so plastered I can't see straight? I say rare here because it really has only happened once in many, many years, but it was within the last year and that is what makes me nervous.

What weirdness was I feeling in that social setting that made me drink myself silly (and worse)? Was it because I was expected to interact with people instead of acting as a host and flitting like a butterfly from one nectar-rich flower to the next? Possibly. The onus of being taken for ones self can be overwhelming. I may have been feeling especially overwhelmed on that particular evening because I didn't know everyone in the room. I allowed myself to quiet that inner critic with an unhealthy dose of moonshine.

While doing a bit of research on the inner critic, I found this paragraph to be especially poignant, and oh so true to myself.

"Some of the times to catch your inner critic are: when you are feeling depressed or down on yourself, meeting strangers, contact with people you find sexually attractive, situations in which you have made a mistake, situations in which you feel criticized and defensive, situations in which you feel hurt or someone has been angry at you, and conversations with parents or anyone who might be disapproving."

Haven't we all been in at least one of these situations or many of them? Just reading this made me get goosebumps as if whomever had written this had read my journal; scary to say the least.

One of the first hurdles is to know that the self talk of the inner critic was originally there to help you in learning how to deal with growing up and being a socially acceptable self. Unfortunately, it usually doesn't stop there. The inner critic loves the attention and power of its own voice and doesn't EVER, EVER stop talking.

From there, it is a battle of wills, I guess, because I know that just one small hurt can shred me to pieces while another person would laugh it off and let it roll off their back. Getting down to the nitty gritty of why something feels like a personal attack takes a lot of hard work and, to tell you the truth, I believe I'm just realizing this about myself.

So this is a good day and a good start to these next baby steps; I can say, though, that I am really tired of the chatter in my head and hope to control what is said and the outcome of those words starting right now.

Goofy-ness

2010-05-26T21:33:00.003-04:00

After an hour or so in Lowe's this afternoon ordering our countertops for the study, it felt good to get back out into the sunshine. We were thrilled to just have come to some sort of agreement on our counter choice, so we were beaming a bit.

Just as we were leaving the store, though, Gary says, rather loudly, "That is a really goofy hood on that car!"

What a mood killer! Aghast, I noticed that the owners of the car were right THERE, loading up their purchases, and had heard everything. I glared at Gary, but he looked nonplussed.

The guy stuck his head up and said something I could not hear (or maybe I did not WANT to hear) and THEN Gary said, "Ha. Oh yeah, the trunk is really goofy, too!"

Okay, by this time, I was ready to first, kill Gary and stuff him into said trunk of said goofy car, and second, crawl into a small hole until I was no longer embarrassed to death.

Mortified, I turned around slightly, only to glimpse that, actually, the trunk WAS really goofy after all! There, in all its multicolored glory, was a drawing of Disney cartoon character Goofy on the trunk! I looked back and also saw that he was emblazoned on the hood, too. Seeing my perplexed look, the owner of the car stuck his head up from loading to laugh out loud!

After that, it was me who was feeling goofy. Oy!

Stick Walking

2010-05-25T16:57:00.004-04:00

Picking out gifts for friends is one of my favorite things to do, unless I'm a bit rushed and behind the 8-ball, which I was the other day on a visit to the best gift store in town, Libertytown.

The party was the next evening and I really had no clue what to get my friend; she had just gotten a Master's degree! I am so proud of her. She lived with me for a little while when I was downtown and she always was focused and studying, so unlike me when I was in school (of course, THAT is the reason I'm nowhere near getting my degree!).

Anyway, I went into Libertytown Arts Workshop and ran into one of the staff and one of the other potters in residence. I explained my dilemma as I was walking around the product shelves hoping to get some inspiration. My potter friend came out from behind one of the shelves with a beautiful carved walking stick! She asked whether the stick might be a good thing.

YES! It was perfect, though I actually chose another design that I thought would be more to my friend's liking. My friend is an avid outdoorswoman and loves to hike, so if she didn't have a stick, this would be a great addition to her hiking gear. Rooting around in the basket of handmade soaps from Tiggy in the UK, I found, believe it or not, one called "Walkabout." Just crazy!

Get to the party later that weekend and when I present her with the gift, she asked me, "Did you know that I had lost my walking stick?"

"No," I replied.

"Really? Wow." She then went on to explain that during her last hike in the nearby mountains she had accidentally left her walking stick behind on the trail. I had not heard this story, but it made me smile to think that those of us at Libertytown that night must have gotten some sort of message from the Universe about the stick. Proves once again that the world and the people are indeed magical!

I love when things like that happen and even better that I made my friend happy on her special day.

Gardening . . . Farming . . . Whatever!!

2010-05-24T18:31:00.004-04:00

I was on the computer today when my son arrived home from school, so I hurriedly finished the music project I was working on and told him that I would need his help gardening.

I had picked up some gorgeous Autumn and Japanese ferns earlier at my favorite plant nursery. A striking hosta called "Pineapple Upside Down Cake" also caught my eye so that also went on the cart. By the time I got home, I was so excited!

We've been working on a walkway on the side of our house for about a month now; most of the walk is laid (the last little bit has to wait for my husband to finish a drainage ditch that will cut right in front of it) and so I went ahead and put in some hostas dug up from a friend's yard. Those looked great, but I wanted to fill it in a bit more. Brought home some white impatiens a few days ago because white flowers glow a bit at night and then today came the ferns and new hosta.

I told my son that it would probably take about an hour. He retorted quickly, "No, it won't. I'm fast. It should only take about 20 minutes." I thought to myself, well, okay, if you think so, but I know how many holes have to be dug, that the soil needed to be enriched, and then on top of all that, new mulch had to go down, and THEN, the watering would commence.

He seemed confident, though, so I went to change into some grubby clothes and when I came out of the room, he said, "Hey, your farm doesn't need to be harvested yet!" "My farm?" Oh goodness; I started cracking up with laughter. He thought I meant "Farmville," the computer game that is as addictive as it is fun.

I had to explain to him that we would be going OUTSIDE the house to do REAL gardening by digging REAL holes, planting REAL plants, and laying REAL mulch. He looked confused at first, but then burst out laughing himself. Then he said, "No."

Convincing him that he was required by parental law to observe his initial offer to help, he finally relented and helped me get the garden in without much delay. Even he mentioned how well it went with us working together.

As a treat for helping me out, I think, in about two hours, I will let him harvest my pretend farm; aren't I a great mother?

Concert Etiquette

2010-05-21T23:35:00.002-04:00

A new edict is going to be passed by me re standing up at concerts. When the band first comes on, it is okay to stand up because everyone is excited and stuff. I'm cool with that; I do it myself.

BUT, if you're going to continue standing up, I have decided that you must at least be moving in order to STAY up. Standing stockstill at attention without even moving a HAIR should be against the law and punishable by much rock throwing from those folks behind said stockstill standers.

We had a couple of those in front of us tonight; I pretended to shoot them in the hopes they might fall over like ducks at a carnival booth. No dice.

Then the idea of throwing rocks passed between my friend and me, but I, for one, decided that the woman half of the couple scared me quite a bit. With her military stance, she was either in the military or a cop, and most likely, the bad-cop half of the good-cop, bad-cop routine.

Finally, they both sat down and my friend and I did a little celebratory cheer. It was a good night made better by the fact that I did not end up in jail because I threw rocks at a cop. Life is good.

Asian Pottery

2010-05-18T21:44:00.003-04:00

Today was a fortuitous day; I received an offer to do some pottery work for an Asian hair salon in D.C.

Back story is that I've been going to see a great hairstylist in Georgetown with a friend for a little over a year. Last time I visited, I was served tea in a really cute tea cup; a very simple design, just a circular thrown form with a pinch in the side for the handle. I loved the crackle glaze, too.

My hairdresser mentioned that he couldn't use them because they were too small for his large fingers to pick up easily. Well, as soon as I could get back on the wheel, I decided to see whether I could make a copy, but just a bit larger. I was fairly successful and had been holding onto the cup for posterity or something.

When my friend suggested another visit to have our hair done, I was in for the ride. As we were getting ready to leave the salon for the drive back home, I presented Iku (my hairdresser) with the cup. He was surprised and thankful and went to show his wife, who helps run the salon.

She looked at it and said, "You made this?" When I said yes, she mentioned that she had been attempting to replace their old stock of cups and saucers via a company in Japan, but had been having trouble because of the dollar rate. The company was not excited about shipping six sets; they would ship sixty, though!

So she asked whether I might be interested in doing a commission for them. Oh goodness! I had not foreseen that coming at all. It was just a gift! I thanked her and told her I would think about it; she offered to let me take a set of the old service to look at. She showed me where they were cracking from so much use; they offer hot tea to every customer who comes in the doors. With just eight sets, they use them and wash them a lot every day!

So, now I have to decide whether to pursue this commission and start cranking out these little cups and saucers for them. Consistency is my one worry; I tend to be all over the place when I make things--but maybe, just maybe it is time to see just what I can do. And, you never know, maybe I can get a couple of haircuts of out the deal!

Interesting Communication Revelation

2010-05-12T14:53:00.003-04:00

While I was sending out directions to this weekend's house concert, I noticed that I put my cell number down in case anyone has to contact me for any reason.

The word "cell" really stuck out in the sentence I had just typed. I think it struck me because, in its short form, the word can mean so much about being imprisoned or behind bars. With our cells constantly by our side, we are never out of its clutches and are never really allowed to be free anymore.

Even though the days I leave my cell at home accidently do occur rarely, after the first initial gasping and clutching fit passes, I feel quite relaxed and calm. For that bit of time that I am out, no one can find me or bother me. I can be truly by myself for as long as I choose.

Okay, that calmness really lasts only about five minutes, but it does come, thankfully, and then I get tense again. I can't believe I have allowed myself to think I'm so important and irreplaceable that I cannot be "out of touch" for a few hours without the world imploding. Of course, it seems the days I am most nervous about missing a call or text or e-mail or, of course, Facebook status update, that is when ABSOLUTELY NOTHING has happened. Such is life in the cell-ular zone!

Mother's Day 2010

2010-05-12T10:06:00.007-04:00

As of May 10 this year, my mother has been dead for thirty years. I was 21 years old when she died. I'm sitting here thinking where the time has gone; certainly, a lot of things have happened during that time, but it is hard to believe that she's been gone from my life for that long. And while I say she is gone from my life, she is definitely still in my heart.

I observed Mother's Day a little differently this year; usually I would go on Mother's Day to her grave and spend a little time after meditating on her and leaving some flowers. After that, I would typically go to a classic car show with my family, because that's what I wanted to do on my special day.

It may have been avoidance in some way, but going to that show was a way to connect with the classic things in life, those things that don't necessarily change, those things that add some consistency to life. My family enjoyed it, too, even my husband. The cars, the silly games, the hot dogs--it had become a tradition for us and one we really enjoyed together--and that's what I needed on this day because of my loss so many years ago.

This year, my celebration of my mother occurred on Saturday. I may do this from now on to keep the ire of other family members at bay. I attended, with some friends, a Hospice-sponsored grieving group for women who have lost their mothers. Granted, most of the women in the room had lost their mothers much more recently than me, but it was so good to be in the room with these women who were not afraid to grieve in front of others and share their stories of mothers.

A package prepared for us helped pull old long-unresolved feelings from my heart. We wrote a letter to our mothers with starter sentences such as, "When I think of you, I feel . . . ." This was so helpful in dredging up those old feelings of love, pain, anger, regret, and yes, for some of us, guilt.

I am so thankful to have been a part of this gathering of women and wish I'd had the sense to do this right after my mother died. I know I am exactly where I need to be right now, but considering the state of my family as a result of my mother's death, it would have helped us as a whole, too. A set of twin girls, around the age I was when my mother died, were in attendance and I am so happy that they were smart enough to find this avenue for their work of grieving. I hope their father also gets the help he needs to make it through.

My family splintered after my mother died; my father sank into a depression so deep that he found solace only in drinking. My youngest sister, who was all of a sudden the caretaker of her father and had to run the house, found that pregnancy and a shotgun wedding were her way out of that fusion. My middle sister used other forms of coping. I got married a month later and didn't grieve. We didn't talk about my mother's death, we didn't deal with it on either an emotional or intellectual level; we were all just left to wallow in the unexplainable doubts, fears, and loneliness that comes with a sudden death.

Over the years, with therapy, I have come to understand my acting out in ways that hurt everyone around me; I have come to understand that you cannot run away from the grief of a loss because it always catches up with you. No one else can understand what you are going through and criticizing the way you deal with it, even if it is going to Classic Car Shows on the hardest day of the year, only shows that lack of understanding. It is never too late to get in touch with your feelings and it is never too late to come to understand that who you are is so much a result of your experiences, good or bad.

So, on Sunday this year, because I had done such good work the day before, my husband and I decided to go to his mother's house in Maryland to see her for Mother's Day. We weren't sure we were going to go, but an e-mail from his father begging us to come clinched the deal and my husband changed his mind. It turned out to be a nice day. We had borrowed a kayak from a friend so that we could spend some time out on the water. The wind was howling, though, so it made it interesting and very hard work. A good challenge for mind and body.

Very few things happened this time to bother me--a good sign of my moving on from former hurts and perceptions and creating a very healthy detachment. My conversation a few months ago with my MIL really helped her to understand that her actions have had a huge effect on me in my relationship with her. I only hope that I am learning my own lessons as I am now a mother-in-law myself. Showing favoritism and showering gifts of things and money on only one side of the family is something that I find that I don't do, so I'm okay in that arena.

One weird point in the day was when my MIL decided to give away some of her old jewelry and watches and she actually included me in the process. This has never happened before and it felt strange to me. She's been cleaning out the house, putting things in order, and giving away things she no longer wants. Don't know how the others felt, I think I sensed some coolness, but maybe I was projecting. I came away with some nice pieces, including a ring she had included in another shipment of stuff earlier in the month.

I think I've mentioned in other posts that no matter how long it takes us to drive there to visit, the MIL always takes a daily nap. I hoped that she would delay it because we were all there, but she announced it after the jewelry swap. Gary and I had decided beforehand that we would leave at that time and it worked out fine. We were there for a few hours, did the family thing, and then could retire back to our Virginia life for the late afternoon and evening.

Surprised when I was asked by my SIL why we weren't going to the car show that day, I did not answer. In my head, I knew that honoring my mother the day before and on the actual mark of her death, May 10, was what was important to me in my relationship with my mom and my journey of grief. Those moments are mine, and mine alone, and there's always next year for the cars.

In a Bit of a Fog

2010-05-02T18:03:00.004-04:00

Feeling a bit reclusive and needing to gather energy for the coming storm. A few weeks ago, a close friend of mine called to let me know that she has cancer. This is the first friend that I've had who has had to deal with cancer with me as a big part of the support team. Since then, I've been up to her place in Northern Virginia several times to accompany her to appointments to the oncologist and radiologist. We both were shaking a bit as we waited in the room for the oncologist, fearful for the worst.

The first doctor, a beautiful young man with dark hair and dark eyes (I notice these things) was basically in charge of obtaining information, such as prior issues and current medications. My friend is a scientist, so she rattled off all the info like a pro.

The main doctor soon followed after the information-taking doctor left. An elderly man, at least in his late 70s or early 80s, made us feel very comfortable with what my friend would be going through during the next two months (this is an estimate, of course).

As he was making his exit, my friend asked him why he left the engineering field to become a doctor; he started a bit and asked how she knew that he had been an electrical engineer. She said, "I Googled you!" Ha. The doctor laughed, reddened a bit, but then explained that after he got his initial degree, he started a company, and then after 20 years, decided to sell the company and pursue his medical degree. Still obviously very capable, he had followed his later dream and had been in medicine for a long time.

After these appointments were over and we were back out on the street, we realized we were starving. I wanted to go to a restaurant I used to frequent many years ago, Maison Blanche, but found out that it no longer existed. Very sad. As a second option, we went to my favorite restaurant in Shirlington, Luna Cafe.

At lunch, we discussed her cancer and how we were going to deal with appointments and procedures. She knows that I am available any time she needs me. It's a mild haul up the road, but an easy one, and she's my friend and she'll need me. I'll be there for her.

She and I are quite similar; cynical by nature and we share a lot of the same type of family history. Her mother died young, the father remarried a woman with several children, and pretty much this woman and her brother ceased to exist for the dad except on rare occasions because he, like my Dad, was/is very passive and lets the wife make all the social decisions. It's been hard on both of us and we are thankful that we have each other to dump on when it gets really hard. I have made a lot more headway in dealing with my family in that their actions no longer bother me. They still all get together socially quite often and we're not included, but I'm okay with that. We don't necessarily include them either and it is working out fine.

She, on the other hand, has a very hard time being in the company of her stepmother, whom she calls "Stepmonster." I totally empathize with her feelings, but, as I told her when I last saw her, "Don't let them take your power; if you let them bother you, you become weaker. Stay strong, be yourself, get through the lunch/dinner/"insert here" social occasion, and you'll come out on top."

I especially hope that she can de-stress some as she enters a very challenging part of her life; her survival odds are good and, as a team, I know that the cancer is going to have formidable foes, but stress can always make the road seem bumpier and longer. I also hope her family rallies around her; thankfully, she and her brother are very close and that will make a huge difference because he will be there for her, too.

My friend has a goal; she is very active in The Fuller Center for Housing builds, the original group that started Habitat for Humanity (with which she was very active for years). Her hope is that she can get through the chemotherapy and radiation in time for the next build which is in August 2010. It is a lofty goal, but we're going to do everything we can to make sure she gets through this so that she will be ready to swing that hammer again!

For info on Fuller: http://www.fullercenter.org/about
Please feel free to make a donation while you're visiting the site; no amount is too small and you can see exactly where the money goes. Thank you.

House Concert Schedule for April and May 2010

2010-04-21T16:39:00.001-04:00

Hello Everyone!

Sorry to have been out of touch for a while; did a little traveling over Spring Break and am now getting down to finishing out scheduling House About Tonight concerts for the year!

I wanted to update you on the April and May shows that are planned so that you can come out to one or maybe all of them!

April 24 (this Saturday) 6:30pm: Megan Jean and the Klay Family Band. No strangers to Fredericksburg, Megan Jean and Byrne know how to bring down the house. Excellent songwriters, Megan's fine and strong voice and Byrne's creative handling of an upright bass are always crowd pleasers. I understand from Byrne that they are adding a little bit of gypsy music to their repertoire and Megan Jean says they hope to have a new CD with them!!! This concert will take place at Connie and Don's in Spotsylvania (directions attached). http://www.meganjean.net/

May 7, 7:00pm: Louis Ledford: Although a city kid born and raised in Richmond, VA, Louis Ledford's familiar roots lay in Western North Carolina and Southwestern Virginia where as a child he soaked up the rural culture and music. Ledford spent much of the 1990s fronting and writing songs for the Alt-Country band Used Carlotta. He borrows from Randy Newman his style of crawling inside a character and presenting the songs as visually as possible. Ledford cites Raymond Carver, Charles Bukowski, John Fante and William Faulkner as influences. "I see myself as a storyteller. My songs are like very short stories." The concert will take place at a beautiful home in downtown Fredericksburg on Caroline Street. RSVP for directions. http://www.cdbaby.com/cd/ledford

May 15, 6:30pm: The Honey Dewdrops: A nationally-touring and award-winning husband-and-wife duet who perform fresh, original songs focusing on vocal harmonies and tight instrumentation. This one is also at Connie and Don's house. http://www.thehoneydewdrops.com

Suggested Donation for each show is $15, with a dish or bottle or two of wine or other beverage to share for the evening's gourmet-pleasing buffet. Please let me know if you would like to attend a show and I'll put you on the entry list.

Thank you all so much for your patronage and for helping to bring music back to the people, one living room at a time. Peace.

Boo!

2010-03-30T16:21:00.003-04:00

GEMINI (May 21-June 20): On the *Ghost Hunters* TV program, paranormal researchers investigate places that are thought to be haunted by supernatural entities. One commercial for the show urges us, the viewers, to "Get fluent in fear!" That exhortation happens to be perfect advice for you, Gemini. APRIL FOOL! I lied. This is not at all a good time for you to get fluent in fear. But more than that. It's actually a momentous time to get un-fluent in fear. You have an unprecedented opportunity to stop casually exposing yourself to anxiety-inducing influences. You have amazing power to shut down that place in your imagination where you generate your scary fantasies. The conquest of your fears could be at hand!

Love Actually is All Around

2010-03-19T23:35:00.004-04:00

“Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge - they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I've got a sneaky feeling you'll find that love actually is all around.” (from the film "Love Actually")

I am happy to say that I saw this wonderful world of love myself today while waiting for a friend at international arrivals at Dulles.

My favorite expressions of love were:

the expectant looks from friends and relatives as they sought "their" passengers coming out of the customs area;

the kissing on both cheeks by people of both or the same sex. It's like they're saying one kiss just is not enough; here's another to show you how I really feel;

the men whose arms were laden with flowers for their beloveds--one who caught my eye was a little nervous as he played with his tie and adjusted his suit coat more than a few times;

the gaggle of beautiful French schoolgirls coming here with a chaperone for what will probably be a life-changing experience for most of them;

the father and two small children waiting expectantly for wife and mother and the many hugs and kisses shared by them upon her arrival;

three blond cousins carrying a gift each for their smaller blond cousin whose eyes brightened visibly when he saw the group of them so excitedly waiting to greet him;

a very friendly Australian woman waiting for a friend coming in from London who spoke to me while we were both waiting and my finding out that she is only here temporarily as a research fellow for the Smithsonian Institute;

the excitement that caused many people to not be able to wait to get around the barrier to give and receive hugs from their families and friends;

and the young couple who found a little time to themselves before seeing the whole family by sneaking behind a column and sharing several loving kisses, coming out a little flushed, but bright-eyed and brilliantly happy.

Yes, what I thought would be a long day of driving back and forth turned out to actually be a gorgeous drive in the country with little traffic and a little bit of time for reflection on the state of the world as it really is. Love is everywhere!

Jawbone of an ???

2010-03-19T10:07:00.003-04:00

Regular cleaning at my dentist's yesterday; he came in after the hygienist finished with me. She used a kind of a sand-blasting technique now that I have braces; didn't need my usual dose of topical anesthetic because she was very gentle and I took myself to my "happy place" and breathed through it all.

When my dentist felt my jaws moving, he realized I had a TMJ dislocation (something I've had probably most of my life). Ran some tests and got very excited as this is his new passion. Great for him, but not so good for me. One of his suggestions was that I have my braces removed, fix the current problem with ortho things I'd have to wear all the time for about a year or so (and then the rest of my life after braces) (argh!) and then start over with the braces. Did I just get transported to dental hell or what?

Not the news I want to hear seven months into my current teeth therapy. We left it that he would call my ortho and discuss it and then get back to me. I'm glad I'm older; it might make the decision easier. Just promise me that you won't set me out on some mountain to die when I can no longer chew my food, okay?

The good thing about yesterday was the house; G and I looked at an unusual, quirky, awesome, huge house for sale. I loved it; I think he did, too, but he always has to be the poker face, good-cop bad-cop player. I'm fine with that. This house started out as a small Cape, then had additions added over the years, so that now it is a rambling, sprawling house with rooms that go on forever. One room is large enough for me to hold house concerts in the house with room to spare!

It's on an acre of land and also has a red barn; my friend E. and I had dicussed having concerts in a red barn, so this is really a cool coincidence (or is it?). Hmmm.

Anyway, it's priced at the upper levels of our budget, so we're not sure what we're going to do. How much are kidneys going for these days? Cross your fingers for us and send good juju; oh, thousands of dollars would be good, too.

So, in the future, I might look miserable with a mouthpiece that makes me look like I'm ready to play rugby, but I'll be fine and smiling while soaking up on the sun on the back deck.

In Appreciation

2010-03-09T16:16:00.005-05:00

Sometimes, well, days like today, I believe I want appreciation more than love. Maybe it is because I'm feeling more appreciative of the people and things in my life. To me, love comes with so many "strings," even in the most innocuous of relationships. Appreciation is something you have to earn; anyone can say they love you--but very few people say they appreciate you.

During my growing up years I "fell in love" with a new boy every week, whether in real life or in fantasy. No one was safe from that "love": Donny Osmond, David Cassidy, Davey Jones. I "loved" them all.

My real-life crushes, whether it was Angel, or Dave, or Kent, were all "loved" by me. And I barely knew them. How could I love them? What did I know of that type of love in my teen years; nada, nothing, zero. Still have a hard time with it.

But appreciation I understand. Because it is a rare occurrence. I feel so blessed when I get a note from someone telling me they appreciate what I do; lately, this has been in concert with my music production. So many people enjoy the music I am able to bring to them and they tell me so. They don't say they "love" me, they say they "appreciate what I'm doing for music in the community."

I get a high from that; it makes me feel that I am doing the right thing with my life. I think I knew early on in my life that music would play a huge part in it. I could not have foreseen producing house concerts as the vehicle upon which that desire rode, but I'm so happy to have found it.

At first, I was worried I was trying to keep a connection with something I'd rather forget, but I've discovered over time that it has been one of the most healing aspects of my journey. I get four or five requests a week from musicians looking for a venue; it has gotten hard for musicians to make a living these days and house concerts are a way to earn some money while really being listened to while you sing and play. It's such a good form of entertainment. Many venues downtown have music, but few have a place where you can really listen and enjoy. I can think of only a handful.

So, the appreciation from the community and the musicians keeps me going. I've been doing this for about four years and hopefully will continue to for a long time. The good thing is that more and more folks are also offering their houses, so that is a bonus.

I really appreciate the sense of community I feel; the last concert had other musicians in the audience and more than half the folks were first-time attendees. I appreciate that word of the series is getting out and that people are taking an interest.

My appreciation also grows every day for my family and, especially, my husband. He and I shared a lovely 16th anniversary celebration yesterday with only positive vibes all day. We've worked very hard to get where we are, and even though both of us would have like to have made it this far under slightly different circumstances, we are both so appreciative of the journey. We've learned so much about each other and the way we work together (or not) and have made huge efforts to talk and discuss even the most painful things. I am appreciative of his efforts and willingness to join me in a place he was originally uncomfortable in so that we could do the work to heal our fractured relationship.

I truly appreciate that he believed I was worth fighting for; as he says, every day with me is a challenge, but he sure loves the challenge and is up for it!

Who Visits Your Blog the Most?

2010-03-05T10:16:00.011-05:00

Over time or in one day! Or by subject! I've got winners in all categories!

Many bloggers use counters on their pages to help track where most of their traffic is coming from; some of the trackers are very basic and will show a city or area on the map as your blog is "hit." Others are more detailed and can provide lots of information if you want it.

I use StatCounter, a nice program that is limited to only 500 rolling hits unless you buy into a larger program. I don't have any need for that, so 500 hits at one time it is for me.

Over time, you can figure out some of the locations and put names to your readers (if you know them already). Most of mine I do not know, so I don't worry about it, but it is fun to see what subject brings people around a lot and where the traffic is coming from. I get a lot of international hits, not because I'm considered a superstar or an international woman of intrigue, but because Edit Piaf was. I had a blog post a while back, I think it was right after I got back from my stay in Paris, in which I ran a photo of her and talked a bit about her music and how wonderful it was to hear one of her songs ("En Vie en Rose") being played on the violin while I was touring The Sacre Coeur.

Another subject that gets a lot of hits, mostly from the North and South western parts of our country, is the poem "Forgiving Our Fathers" by Dick Lourie. One of my favorite poems of all time, I posted it after yet another viewing of a favorite film, "Smoke Signals" by Chris Eyre and Sherman Alexie. Maybe students doing more research or simply trying to find their own peace in their own families.

The most hits in one day came from someone in Maryland; between the hours of 7:00am and 1:15pm, I received 55 hits from this one user. That was awesome and has not been repeated by anyone else, but hey, I'm glad to have you try to beat the record, so go for it!

So, I think these counters are useful; you can track your "market," if you will, and see if your readership is growing and what subjects seem to bring the most readers. If I were smart, I would put the word "sex" in each of the label sections for my posts, because then I'd be overrun, but I'd like to keep it honest as much as possible.

At this point, I am thankful for my readers and the support I have gotten from them over the years (on this blog and others). Having an outlet can be very therapeutic, even with the naysayers, and I'm glad for it.

If you'd like to have your own counter, this is the one I use (I'm sure there are many out there), but this one works quite well: http://www.statcounter.com.

Anyone want to offer their own reasons for using this tool to measure blog traffic? Would love to hear from you ... and you ... and most especially, YOU!

Funeral for a Friend

2010-03-03T23:51:00.004-05:00

Time slips by so quickly. When I got the news that someone I had known when I worked at GEICO had died, I realized that it had been almost 11 years since I'd been employed by that company.

I had not known this woman very well, and really couldn't place her (at my age, it's so easy to forget faces that go with names). But when a photo was sent to me, the memories came flooding back. When this women entered a room, the whole space lit up. A beautiful smile, which you rarely saw her without, immediately put you at ease and brightened your day. She always had a kind word for everyone. And her voice, well, there was nothing like it that I've heard in this world. She could sing like nobody's business; she had a voice so pure and stirring that you could not come away unchanged after hearing her sing.

A house fire ended her life; two others living in the house made it out alive. She did not.

I wasn't sure whether I should attend the memorial service; after all, it had been so long since I'd seen her and the other people I knew would be in attendance. I did go, though. I'm so happy I followed my heart; I felt a strong pull to be there that night. The service was being held at a Baptist Church not far from my home. Entering that sacred space that night felt so right; seeing old friends at the door greeting everyone was so touching and we hugged tightly, not wanting to let go.

After signing the guest book and making my way into the church, I sat by myself at a pew almost halfway up the aisle. I looked around the room and recognized a few more faces, though the names weren't coming up so easily. I stayed composed in the face of evident grief from many of the attendees there.

A gentle tap at my arm brought my attention to a woman who had appeared at my side. She said, "I saw you come in and wanted to say hello." For some reason, it was then that I lost it. I reached out and hugged her and just started crying. What was it that brought those emotions up? Realizing that someone had been taken from this world ahead of her time? Seeing someone I had cared for so much whom I had lost touch with over the years? Feeling the memories of those good times and all we had been through together coming back?

Whatever it was, I welcomed it with open arms as much as I welcomed this woman back into my life.

The service was beautiful; friends of the woman who had died had gathered together and acted as greeters and speakers. Preachers from the various churches around the area lent their words to the congregation and most poignantly, to the mother and siblings of our friend. Friends and coworkers got up and spoke, some with humor, of the special woman who had been a part of all of our lives.

I'm not a religious person by any means, but I was moved by their words of compassion, hope, and most especially, love. The love that was expressed for our friend was limitless. Many spoke of her giving ways and the fact that her beautiful voice did not make her proud, but humble. And, as much as they were feeling bereft and lost without her continued presence in this world, they KNEW, without a doubt and comforted by their faith, that they would see her again, that they would hold her again, and they would hear her sing again. After that night, I am convinced that they will.

Electronic Desire

2010-03-03T21:21:00.004-05:00

I woke up this morning, putzed around a bit, and then checked Facebook before heading over to the gym for one of my twice-weekly workouts with my trainer. Imagine my surprise when I got a notification that several of my friends were now friends with someone with the same name as my ten-year-old son. Thinking for an instant that maybe we had found a long-lost relative, I then realized that my wily son had created his own Facebook page some time during the last 24 hours. How interesting!

Especially interesting because, less than 12 hours before my discovery, he had asked both his father and me whether he could have an account and we had both emphatically answered with a "No! Not until you're 13!" Granted, we were in a noisy bar when he asked, yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking. "If you take your kid to a bar, why wouldn't you let him have a Facebook account?" That's another story.

So now, as his father says, he may not even see 11! This kid has quite a bit of gall; I wonder if he thought we wouldn't find out. Didn't he know that EVERYTHING you post on Facebook can be accessed by almost anyone out there in the internet sphere, that is, unless you limit your access? His info was right out there, even with the development name where we live. Funny thing, though, he hadn't asked ME to be a friend! Hmmmm. But I could access his page and see everything about him right away.

So, leaping up from my computer, I told his father what had happened. The first words out of HIS mouth were, "Well, you do leave the computer logged in after you leave it!" Of course, my fault again. This has been a tough week for being blamed in my world. I do leave the computer logged on, but it's from being used to having the default program that comes on in about 30 minutes of inactivity and signing me off automatically.

I had been used to that for years and my brain is still thinking that it works that way; I asked about the program and why it doesn't seem to be working anymore.

After a little sleuthing, we found out that our hacker son found the settings and changed them. Instead of shutting down after 30 minutes of inactivity, it was now set for shutting down after 9999 minutes of inactivity! While we couldn't be positively sure he had done that part of it, it wasn't until we saw the choice of screen-saver that ensured his hand in the process: The Steelers! Oy!

So now, that has been changed back to the original settings and I can continue to be mindless about signing off/shutting down the computer.

The "talk" about all this occurred tonight. While we mentioned the fact that going against our wishes was the most important mistake he made, we also brought in the fact that not-so-nice people love when kids like him get on line and make their information available to them. We explained that we love him so much and that enabling him to become someone else's prey was not going to happen on our watch. Even enabling him to see some of the posts that come through on Facebook from certain "friends" had to be taken into consideration.

So, by the time we disabled the page, he had acquired a slew of friends, but one showed respect for us and him by contacting us and letting us know why he was declining the friending. He explained that he sometimes posts things that are not necessarily kid-friendly and that my son could always say hello to him through either my husband's or my page. I was so touched by that considerate and thoughtful gesture.

So now, my son is getting used to being without electronic goodies for a few weeks; he's looking at old yearbooks right now. Thankfully, the use of electronic toys has not dimmed his love of reading the written word, an activity that will fill his days for quite some time.

Brezsny's At It Again (did he just read my blog?)!

2010-03-02T16:20:00.001-05:00

GEMINI Horoscope from Rob Brezsny

If you're bogged down in the trance of the humdrum routine, astrology can open your mind and illuminate fascinating patterns that have been invisible to you. It can reveal the big picture of your life story, sweeping away the narrow ideas and shrunken expectations you have about yourself. And it can purge your imagination of its endless tape loops, awakening you to the power you have to create your own destiny. But reliance on horoscopes can also have downsides. If you're superstitious, it might make you even more so. If you're prone to be passive, believing that life is something that happens to you, it might further diminish your willpower. That's why, as much as I love astrology, I'm wary of its potential to deceive and lead astray. Is there anything comparable in your world, Gemini? Something that feeds and inspires you, but only if you're discerning about it? This is a good time to ratchet up your discernment.

The Other Side of Me

2010-03-02T14:48:00.006-05:00

Anyone who knows me well knows that I'm a major pain in the ass to know. I'm cross, wearyily intuitive of most people, short-tempered, and very impatient with the failings of others. That said, to my true friends who have been through the thick and thin of it, I am an amazing person and am the delight of their day. (Can't believe I just wrote that, but I did.)

What makes the difference? How can I relate so well to some people and not so well to others? I've been working this over in my mind for some time and have come to certain conclusions. A lot of it depends on my own level of caring for the other person (duh! common sense prevails again!) and sometimes it's just visceral. I've always said that if we can be so picky about the wine we drink, then we damn well sure be picky about the people we allow into our circles. People come into our lives every day, some we get to know a bit, some we get to know a lot, some we would rather have walked right by us on that first meeting day, and others are here to teach us something, and no amount of wishing will eradicate their presence from our lives. It's just the way it is.

A few eye-opening experiences this year have brought me around to a quieter place in myself. I realized that I was acquiring "friends" faster than I could healthily manage them, especially by way of social networking sites. I knew/know so many people that, while fun, it can be dizzying and a problem. Granted, I know a lot of folks through my work producing house concerts and that is a good thing.

Most people reading this might be saying to themselves, "How can knowing so many people be bad?" Well, it can be bad when you don't pay attention to the people who really matter to you because you might want to impress the "new" people. For a while, I let myself believe that I was the sum of the people I knew. Oh, how wrong I was in that assumption.

I might know thousands of people or just 25; it is the me inside who makes the difference. Maybe I was taking that "reach out and touch someone" ad from back in the day a little too literally. I don't have to be friends with everyone; I can say hello when I see them and have it end there comfortably and move on. And then there are those whom I have had to learn to let go, sometimes forcibly so. Abuse, in any form, is not something that I will tolerate (anymore)!

The people who are my friends now are those who do not want to be friends with me only because of who I know; they do not call me over to their table at a hangout only because of who is with me; they understand the absurdity of my personality and still like me anyway. They offer a listening and nonjudgemental ear when I need it and know that I will return the favor in kind. They do not try to get into my business just to be in the know. They don't leave me in the lurch just because they are irresponsible and disorganized. We don't play passive-aggressive games with each other.

They call me anytime of the day knowing I will be there for them either on the phone or in person. They know that, if necessary, I've got their back, even if it is saving them from some jerk bar crawler.

I am working hard to keep all those things in mind myself when dealing with my friends. In talking with a girlfriend the other day, I mentioned, lightly, "You know I'm a pain in the butt." She answered "yes" like "Who the hell cares? You're still my friend no matter what." I'm so thankful for that and am happy that her spunky self appreciates that side of me.

I find, as I age, that my desire to be surrounded by many, many friends is waning fast. It was a fantastical dream borne of watching too much television and reading too many magazines. As I enter the second half of my life, I want people around me who make me laugh, who understand and, in a weird way, enjoy my quirks, who make me think, who enjoy just being together as friends and comrades in this crazy journey of life.