chez pez

munich

2009-06-22T11:54:00.005-04:00

Annie and Beth

Guten Tag!

I'm sitting in the lobby of a hotel in Munich, Germany typing this. I'm so far behind on blogging that I didn't even share the news of the family trip to Germany. I still want to go back and do a May wrap up (you have to see the photos of all of my birthday cakes!).

I'm traveling with my parents and both of my sisters and their husbands, Beth & Ron, Ann & Tim.

We arrived around 9:00 this morning. We were proud of ourselves for figuring out how to get from the airport to the hotel - I love traveling by train and the 40 minute ride was a perfect way for us to sit down and get a grip. Mom and I stayed in Munich this afternoon while the rest of the group toured a castle.

More later!

auction

2009-05-17T18:21:00.002-04:00

I loved going to farm auctions when I was young. It was a good chance to mill around adults and have free rein to look through boxes and explore tables lined with stuff. I didn't have much interest in looking at tractors or kicking the tires on a Buick, but I did love opening the lid of a cigar box to see what treasures were waiting. And wondering how people could part with exotic things as salt and pepper shakers that looked like dogs or butter churns or old shop calendars. I could usually talk Dad in to bidding a quarter or fifty cents on a box of match books or stack of old magazines for me. Eating from the concessions trailer was also big news - and about as close as we ever got to fast food.

When I was older I realized that that farm auctions happen around life events: someone died, retired or moved to town. It took some of the fun out of it, but I've come to appreciate how the auction ties things together, almost like the funeral all over again.

As sad as I knew it would be, I was looking forward to the auction of Uncle Cletus and Aunt Mary Alice's (she is at an assisted living facility in town) household goods. All of their grandchildren were coming to town.

Dad and I drove up together in the rain and discussed what we'd like to buy. Dad really wanted one of the stainless steel stock pots and I knew that I wanted a rake or shovel or something that family hands held.

Here is dad picking out his pot. The auctioneer was great and funny. I'm not sure whether it was the rain or the economy, but things were selling really low.

My trusty rain boots came in handy, once again. Cass County got some crazy amount of rain, too much rain for the newly planted crops.

Cousin Judi and her daughters Rachel and Brandi.

Buck and Cousin Cynthia

I wound up with the Nativity scene. It was an accidental bid, but I'm happy that I have it.

These safety glasses were in a box of treasures that Buck bought.

Cynthia and I both had our sights set on these chairs - the one I got used to be in my great-grandfather's tavern. It is painted the same grey that my table and two chairs are. I wonder how many gallons of that utilitarian grey paint the Spitznogle's went through over the years - or maybe I just have the four things painted that color. The chair did have one minor problem. The legs were cut off about six inches, making it really short. I'm sure it was used for some chore and it made sense at the time. I also bought the double wash tub behind us. It will be a great drink cooler for backyard parties.

Dad told us that his dad paid twenty-five cents for this "sled." That was dad's opening bid. Cousin Leo bought it.

Luci, Sydney, Leo and Nina.

I can't imagine how hard the sale was on "the kids." It was fun to have some laughter near the end. Dad and Nina were bidding on the same item. It turned out that Dad wanted the horse shoes and Nina a coat that was in the same lot, so they shared. There was a lot of trading going on. I bought a chair and Virgin Mary artwork. I really wanted the art and Angie wanted the chair - it was fun to be able to give it to her.

I think all of the grand-kids and nieces and nephews that were there bought a garden tool. I got a potato fork and hoe.

Dad got the pipe organ parts and other miscellaneous church stuff. That screen is from a confession box. I was starting to wonder how we were going to fit all of our treasures in the Suburbian. Dad also bought several lots of lumber.

At one point Dad bid fifty cents for something. The auctioneer told him he'd pay him the difference if Dad would bid a dollar. Here he is making good on his promise.

Loading the truck was a little tricky. We stacked all of the lumber on the folded down back seat and wedged everything else in the back. There was no room for the pot so I held it the hour and a half home.

Which was ironic, when I discovered my beloved MacBook was squashed under the load of wood. I'd worked on my column on the way down and left the computer in my bag on the front seat. At some point in the day, Dad decided it would be safer under a blanket in the back. He forgot about it, until I asked where it was.

To my credit, I didn't yell or freak-out or cry, although I sure wanted to. But it was a long ride home with that damn pot rattling on my lap. And all's well that ends well. I'm writing this post on the laptop.

For more photos click here.

published!

2009-05-15T09:57:00.002-04:00

I am a writer for a nationally published music and film magazine -- Ghettoblaster.

I hate to sound so unenthusiastic - I'm thrilled, really I am. It just feels a little anticlimactic. I was dying to talk about it earlier, but didn't want to jinx it. I wrote the four CD reviews this winter, one of them references getting stuck in the snow. They are my first CD reviews, ever. I am not good at being critical -- I'm amazed by anyone who can put themselves out there, so I hate to say anything bad about them. Nor am I good at obscure references: they sound like a cross between Jumbo the Elephant and Cindy Brady during a category 4 hurricane. Huh?

When I turned my piece in I fantasized casually walking by the music magazines at Northside Newsstand and saying, "why look, the spring issue of Ghettoblaster is in." I'd flip through the mag and say, "hey, who is this on page 42?, why it's me!" And then I'd dance around the store like a total geek.

The newsstand was the place I went to see my first column in the Broad Ripple Gazette, it was where I went to grab the NUVO with my first article. It was where I went to run my hands over the stack of NUVOs with my cover story - and made Joe take six pictures of me holding the paper proudly.

In my early days of writing, pre-wireless Internet, I'd write in the cafe side. If the shop was closed, I'd park in front and transmit my columns from the truck. In fact I started this blog late one night parked outside.

My writing success was directly tied to the newsstand. I'd produce it there and I'd get to grab the tangible product from a rack inside just days later. I can't even link to all of the times I blogged about (and from) the newsstand, but it does have its own sidebar label.

The magazine process was a little longer. I submitted the piece in January for the spring issue. Knowing it would not hit the stands before April did not stop me from walking by the spot where issue 20 was standing up proudly in it's slot surrounded by Spin and Paste and No Depression almost every single day.

Then the unimaginable happened. The big magazine distributor for Indiana went out of business. And there was not much reason to keep the newsstand open without magazines. They announced it with a sign on the door. As you can imagine I was getting phone calls and text messages right way. I contact one of the owners and offered to put a piece in my column, to let them tell the story in their own words. Something I would have appreciated with the coffeehouse closed (This post ties the relationship of the coffeehouse and newsstand together).

I was stunned when M. said "No!" I pointed out that I could read the sign from the sidewalk, so it was public knowledge. In an exchange of heated texts he asked me not to write about it. Ultimately I respected that, even though every other publication and several bloggers (Kirsten wrote a beautiful tribute) did. After I backed off and examined my feelings (something I'm not good at doing), I realized that I considered the newsstand a continuation of the CATH era. One more thing to let go of.

The newsstand closed the first week in March. The News Cafe continues to flourish and has expanded in to the extra space. You can still buy newspapers, candy and smokes there. Just not magazines.

I combed bookstores and the only other newsstand in the city I knew of for the latest copy of Ghettoblaster, but with the distributor gone, no one else had it either. I finally subscribed to the magazine - after ten years of buying all of my magazines at the newsstand, subscribing to something seemed like a foreign idea.

The day it arrived in the mail seemed anti-climatic.

And I'll admit to being a little nervous. What if I sounded like an idiot? I looked at the Photo magazine (a Christmas gift from a friend) and left the Ghettoblaster in the envelope until the next day.

When I finally read it I was happy with the blurbs - and thanks to my dear brother-in-law, Ron for editing them. I listened to the CDs in lots of situations; work, in the truck and at home. I think I did a good job, managing to say nice stuff even if I didn't love the music. The rating system was hard for me, but I know that everyone can't go home with a trophy. I loved Horse Feathers and gave them the highest rating. The other three were good, but not gold star worthy.

I showed it to mom and we made fun of some of the naughty band names. It felt more real when Tammy and Cara read the magazine when we were out one night.

Getting their stamp of approval means a lot. The fact that we could be silly made it all the more fun.

And, not to jinx it, but I'm doing twice as many reviews and maybe a feature story or two for the next issue. Maybe.

goals, goals, goals.

2009-05-02T14:52:00.012-04:00

I've never been a goal setter and I think that is most of my problem. Oh sure, I'm good a short term goals - earn enough money to buy a camera, finish my column by the deadline, don't be late for work all week, don't punch anyone in the nose during a waitressing shift, don't snort in a committee meeting....but mostly, I suck at goal setting.

Last year when I slogged my fat ass through the 500 Festival 5K walk (I was too out of shape to walk the half-marathon 13.1 mile race I'd signed up for) I vowed that I'd be in better shape the next year. I also thought it was be fun to highlight the 40 + bands that play along the route. It wasn't until July, when I needed a boost to get on a horse in Nebraska (and saw a photo of myself on that horse) that I came up with a concrete weight loss goal - 25 pounds. I almost fainted when I figured out that I had 25 pounds to lose! Me? Skinny kid Nora? Yikkes!

I joined Weight Watchers online in August and it has been wonderful. I haven't been to a meeting but I faithfully record everything I eat and weigh myself at home. I reached the goal in March and have not gained any weight in the last three months. I would like to lose five more, but I'm pretty proud of myself.

I walked the Mini-Marathon in 3 hours, 42 minutes and reviewed and photographed all of the bands along the way. I had a blast! You can read my article here. Note my sports byline - wheee!

Now I need a new goal. Any ideas?

doris - 100!

2009-05-01T22:51:00.001-04:00

My friend Doris turned 100 years old on April 27.

The neighborhood gang got together tonight to celebrate with pizza and presents.

Jeff and Doris

Jeff painted the Dogwood tree in Doris' backyard. Jeff used to live right next door (and I lived in Jeff's house for almost a year).

I love hearing her stories. I was able to take a lot of great notes.

Doris roller skated in her kitchen as a child, wearing her mother's skates, she'd also walk up and down the stairs with them on. Doris' dad was in the grocery business. She remembered two stores he ran. One was in Fountain Square on Sanders Street (very close to Second Helpings). She remembered a neighbor boy, Howard. One time they walked across several busy streets to get to the grocery store to retrieve a toy. Doris' dad could not believe they made it by themselves. In those days when people died the calling was at the home. A neighbor died and Doris and Howard picked a bouquet of dandelions and solemnly delivered them to the home.

When her mom died they were living above a store on Tacoma Street, so the viewing had to be at her grandfather's house. Doris remembers that house being at the corner of Michigan and Davidson streets.

Doris attended and boarded at the Saint Mary of the Woods Academy (now closed, there is a rule that a campus cannot house a high school and a university) from 1923-1927. There were very strict rules about dress - you could not walk though the Academy wearing pants. If they were horse back riding they would put a skirt on over the riding pants and drop the skirts at the door. If they were in a play cast in a male role, they could dress as a man but had to put a skirt over it.

In the pool they had to cover their arms and legs. They wore grey wool swimsuits and would put on white wool sleeves and black cotton stockings. After a few minutes the sleeves and stockings would be floating and the nuns would give up on having the girls wear them.

Doris' aunt and uncle took Doris in after her mother died. Her father remarried, but her stepmother would not let Doris live with them (hard to imagine now), so she stayed there. Her aunt and uncle adopted a foster child, Jimmy. He was adopted in 1914 or 1915 from the Sisters of Charity, who ran Saint Vincent's Hospital (where my grandmother and aunt lived and completed their nurse's training). She remembers the big wing-like hats and the light blue robes the nuns wore.

Jimmy had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. They started noticing the symptoms in the first grade and he made it though his sophomore year of Cathedral High School. He never worked, but loved to ice skate and was part of a hockey team at the Coliseum. Doris remembers that Jimmy never liked to wear a hat, she finally got him to wear earmuffs when he was older.

Doris took care of Jimmy his whole life. He was alive when I moved in next door to them. He was suffering from dementia by then, on top of the FAS. Doris was heroic in her care of him. I was with them when he died. His funeral was full of laughter and stories. For years Doris had given Jimmy money to put in his envelope for offering at the church. The church secretary told her that for years Jimmy had written, "no thank you." Doris was mortified when she heard that! Neighbors told to Jimmy throwing trash and falling in to the mulch pit next door.

Doris had the full funeral package for him, including the viewing and a limousine to carry the family from the funeral home to the cemetery. Since most of Doris' contemporaries had died by that point I invited friends to come with us. My friend Kassie walked in to the wrong viewing at the funeral home, signed in and chatted with everyone before she realized she was in the wrong place. She got a thank you note from that family!

Christ the King Church has a great funeral ministry, proving singers and readers and people to attend the funeral mass. Doris' step-sisters were there also. It really was a lovely day.

And for the first time ever, Doris was living alone. She really thrived, gaining weight after the stress of taking care of Jimmy. She got her hair done every Friday, picking friends up that couldn't drive (you can imagine the crew, if Doris at 90 was the best driver) along the way. For a few years I was able to meet Doris and her gang for lunch. I need to dig out the photographs that I made poor Doris pose for in an old fashioned photo booth. It was a stand-up one and Doris had to stand on my stack of library books in order for the top of her head to be seen in the photos -- she was 4'11 at her tallest and I'm guessing that was in 1932. We both laughed so hard we were crying. I can't believe I made a then 93 year-old stand on a wobbly pile of books. Anything for the photo!

Doris moved out of her house six years ago and I'm ashamed to admit that I don't see her as often. Back when I worked at the coffeehouse I'd stop several afternoons a week. When I broke up with AVS, I sobbed and slept her sofa for days.

Doris is well read and up on current events. Swine flu was a big topic of conversation and it reminded Doris of the flu epidemic of 1918. Helen's grandparents died of the flu. It was fun to dive in to Helen's memories also. Helen was born in 1942 and was a teenager when Doris moved in next door. After Helen graduated from high school they often rode the bus downtown together. The street they lived on (Kessler Avenue) is now a major four lane thoroughfare. Helen remembers when it was not paved. The neighborhood kids would all gather on the only cement driveway on the street to skate.

Helen and Doris

Helen's mom, Bessie (who I also had the pleasure of meeting) was born in 1908. Bessie's uncle was a photographer in Fountain Square. We had fun thinking about the possibility that he photographed Doris when she was a child.

It was best Friday night I've had in ages.

april wrap-up

2009-04-30T14:29:00.043-04:00

Holy guacamole! Only one other post in April? *Sigh.

I wish I could tell you it was because I had some big life-altering news, but nope, nothing out of the ordinary. Well, maybe a little bit - I joined a bowling league. Yeah, you read that right, I'm bowling, dude!

Might as well grab a snack, I'm going to recap the whole month in this post.

April 3: Dad and I ran up to Peru, Indiana - "The Circus Capital of the World" for cousin Lynne's surprise 50th birthday party.

Dad and Lynne

Part of the surprise was on us - I had the wrong time and venue.

Elk.

Luckily the VFW, Elks Club and Legion are all with in a blocks so we were in the right lodge in no time.

Lynne.

I've gotten to know Lynne much better in the last few years. Even though we are pretty close in age, I was always shy around her. I thought she was so much cooler, funnier and self-confident than I was. I discovered last year that she also loves Johnny Cash. For Christmas I gave her my autographed photograph of Johnny. I figured it helped make up for all of the gifts of underwear and crocheted tissue box covers she got as a child from her godmother, Aunt Eleanor. For her birthday I gave her a postcard that was sent to Grandma Nora in 1909. Lynne is a postal carrier, and I guessed (rightly so) that she'd appreciate it.

Lynne and cousin David. Dave and I are just four days apart in age.

It was a fun evening - I need to spend more time with the cousins.

April 4: Extreme Makeover: Home Edition wrap party. There is not much I'll get my Red Key shift covered for, but this was one of them. My friend Anne-Marie Dezelen puts on a hell of a party and she was in charge of this one (here's a reminder of the birthday party she threw for her husband).

I had fun rubbing elbows with the beautiful people. Anne-Marie did a fabulous job. You can see more photos here.

April 5-8: My house used to be a stop on the underground railroad of touring musicians. Hundreds of singer-songwriters have slept on my sofa. Seth Horan holds the record for the longest residency. I was thrilled that he stopped in Indianapolis for his three day tour gap between Saint Louis and Chicago. We had not seen each other in five years! In that time CATH closed, I started working at Second Helpings and writing. Seth had even bigger life changes - he's now married and is moving to California.

I had a blast having him around. We fell into our old friendship in a matter of minutes. And I forget how fun it is to have someone to do something with. As comfortable as I am doing stuff by myself, I enjoyed eating out and seeing music with him along. We heard everything from a guy with a playing a solo set on a Farfisa organ to Todd Rungren.

April 8: Dad's 73rd birthday. Dad's birthday fell on his Wednesday volunteer day, so we all sang Happy Birthday to him.

Dad told the group that Wednesday is his favorite day of the week.
Mine too.

April 11: Easter. I went to J.R.'s parish. My brother always "buys" the front pew at a church fundraiser and I sure do enjoying knowing where to find them in the church. Mass was at 9:30, which makes it a challenge to be all fresh and pretty after an ending at 3:00 AM smoky waitressing shift. I left my house at 9:00, which should have put me at the church with five minutes to spare. But I zigged instead of zagging and walked in at 9:33.

The doors to the church sanctuary were closed and there was an usher giving us latecomers the stink-eye. When the everyone stood up for the Gospel reading a family of four and I decided to make a break for it. The usher/security guard hesitated and chose to chase the family - they were moving slower, weighed down by the baby. I was able to slide in to the pew with J.R.'s friends and family.

June Bug and her little brother brought up the offerings. Those kids make my heart swell.

June Bug and Anna

We had a lovely brunch afterward. My friends were playing in the lobby -- thereby confirming my family's suspicion that I know every musician in town.

Circle Trio

Mom

There were plenty of games and things to keep the kids occupied.

April 12: Dyngus Day, or Easter Monday is also called Wet Monday in honor of the water based pranks that are traditionally pulled off on that day. I'm so happy we didn't know about that when we were kids. It was raining that day, so we got a good dose of the wet part anyway.

Bethie and me.

My dear South Bend-born brother-in-law Ron Trojanowski introduced our family to the holiday.

We've enjoyed the polka music and kielbasa at the Chatterbox Jazz Club the last several Dyngus Days.

Ron and Beth

Polka!

And proving that I cannot be left to my own devices, even for a minute I joined the Chatterbox bowling team (The Chatterbowlers) while I was there.

Thursdays: The Golden Gloves boxing matches are held at the Tyndall Armory.

This was the fifth year that I've had season tickets, and I tagged along with my friend Novella Nedeff for a few years before that. I have a hard time articulating why I enjoy the matches so much, but I think this photo helps sum it up. I get to sit behind two retired fireman, watch kids from the Christamore House box, eat popcorn and soak in all of the diversity our town has to offer.

April 16: CAR (Community Awareness Reception) turned in to a van for Second Helpings. J.R.'s friend Greg Eddy handed me the keys to a one-ton van at the reception!

A conversation in the cow barn at the Martin Luther King party led to a tour and the donation of a van for Second Helpings. I'm continually amazed by the generosity of my friends and the community. You can read more about it here.

April 16 and 17: Christamore House Guild Book and Author reception and luncheon. I went straight from the Second Helpings reception to the Christamore House Guild Book and Author reception. It was hard to know how to dress that morning. Sometimes fashion magazines will have pictorials of clothing suggestions that will go from "board room to ball room." The photos are of unnaturally beautiful woman wearing a designer suit that they whip the jacket off in the back of a chauffeured Town Car to revel a shiny beaded camisole. They add diamond earrings and even higher heels and step out of the car on to a red carpet.

They never write about how to dress for a nonprofit job and fancy-smancy party with real-live authors. And changing clothes in a S-10 pickup truck with manual transmission. I wore a top over my little black dress and boots. I whipped off the top added heals and raced to the party. I was so late the shuttle bus was bring people back to their cars. The grounds and house of the party hosts were amazing. The house was so big I had to send my sister in law a text to find her. And I never did run across a bar (apparently there were four).

I missed hearing the authors speak, which is my favorite part. But I did get me chat with Mary McGarry Morris. Her latest book, "The Last Secret" main character is named Nora. I can't wait to dig in to it.

The luncheon the next day is always lovely. It is fun to be a lady who lunches.

April 16-22: Ann was in Indianapolis. My youngest sister Annie was in town for a week. I didn't get to spend nearly enough time with her. We did get to have lunch with Mrs. Herr on Saturday.

Ann, Mrs. Herr, Beth, Nora

April 18: June Bug's First Holy Communion. It was a beautiful day. I can't believe how grown up and beautiful she is.

It was an amazing day. The whole family was together to celebrate this wonderful sacrament.

Beth, June Bug, Anna, JD, J.R., Ann, Ron, Mom, Nora, Dad

June Bug and Aunt Nora

Extreme Food Drive: The food kept pouring in all month. Last count 35,000 pounds!

April 28: Slumber party with Miss Katy. Her twin brother, Evan was having a heart procedure (everything went well, but he still needs a little more fine tuning), so Katy spent the night with me.

We had a grand time. I picked her up at her sitter's, my mom came over and we spent a few hours lovin' on her and then she went to sleep in the pack 'n play next to my bed. She slept for ten hours. I slept in ten minute increments - waking up to make sure she was still breathing. She's a beautiful sweet child. I look forward to watching them grow up.

And that folks, was the month of April.
If you want to read what I did music and event-wise. Click here and here.

extreme makeover: home edition

2009-04-03T23:31:00.017-04:00

This week has been a total blast for me. I was a great way to shake off the winter doldrums.

Being out on the Home Makeover site every day was a real treat. The weather was not perfect (I was knee deep in mud at times) but it was great to be in the fresh air and around a real-live project that you could see progressing quickly. So much of what I do each day does not have an end or is not very sexy -- completing our insurance audit is not nearly as fun as watching a house be built in seven days.

After my Monday volunteering gig and having a media pass I knew my way around and explored every nook and cranny of the neighborhood. The neighborhood in general is in pretty bad shape. Lots of abandoned and unsafe houses.

The area went from a thriving blue-collar neighborhood in the 1960s, to one of the poorest parts of town after the loss of the railroad industry and the addition of two interstates (I-70 and I-65) running smack through the middle of the neighborhood. The highways geography divided the neighborhood. Desegregation of schools in the 1970s meant that kids were being bused outside of the neighborhood, diluting even more the sense of community.

That said, there are still a few neighborhood folks who really believed in the community. The Home Makeover recipient is one of them. Bernard McFarland is a single father of three teen-age boys. He grew up in the neighborhood and returned there after a four-year stint in the Navy. He and his sons were living in a house that needed some structural work and all three boys were sleeping on mattresses in one room.

Bernard started a mentoring group for children in the neighborhood. I had the privilege of attending a fundraiser for the family and hearing first-hand the impact he had on these kids.

One teenager said the most important thing he learned was, "how to dress." Can you imagine not having that parental over site? I swear my mom could tell from three counties away if I was wearing a slip. Other kids shared that they didn't know they could even think about getting an education beyond high school. Bernard was running the program out of a trailer next to his house. He now has a 900 square foot library in that spot.

I was blown away by all of the work Estridge Homes did in the neighborhood. They really went above and beyond for the community. Even the production crew that travels with the show said it was more than they'd ever seen done. One of my favorite coffeehouse customers and uncle to Ben and Kirsten was in charge of the peripheral work. I spent an evening following him around to see the projects.

By the time it was all over, Estridge (with the help of several vendors and donors) accomplished this:
Planted 1,200 trees.
Free internet access to 450 homes.
Donated 100 computers to neighborhood students.
Cleaned 30 streets of trash as well as yards, alleys and vacant lots.
Landscaped 22 homes.
Redressed 16 alleys.
Put new roofs on 2 homes
Demolished 2 abandoned homes. Put new siding on a church.
Worked with the city and local funders to create a community center from an empty school.

Brother J.R. This view is from the back of the house and library.

It is no wonder I stayed at the site until after dark every night. I was soaking up as much of the community spirit as I could. And I decided that I feel fairly at comfortable in a hard hat and boots.

And watching this guy (assistant director of the show) work didn't hurt matters any.

For more photos:
Home Makeover site Wednesday, April 1
Fundraiser at Butler's Hinkle Fieldhouse, Wednesday, April 1
Home Makeover site Thursday, April 2
Home Makeover site Friday, April 3

march wrap-up

2009-03-31T21:17:00.007-04:00

Akk! Another month passed by without keeping my promise to myself of blogging more regularly. If only you could read the posts I've written in my head...

One reason that I was out of touch last three weeks is that I had a secret! And it is hard for me to keep such exciting news quiet, so I stayed home and told the cat. And Cliff (I figured telling someone in Nebraska was fairly safe).

The Sunday night, tear-jerker show, ABC's Extreme Makeover: Home Edition came to Indianapolis. And they are holding an Extreme Food Drive for Second Helpings in conjunction with the construction of the house. Any food that we cannot use for prepared meals at Second Helpings will be sent to food pantries in the neighborhood (Martindale-Brightwood) of the makeover home.

Second Helpings provides 880 meals in that neighborhood every single week. We also redirected 131,000 pounds of food in the last six months to the Saint Vincent DePaul Food Pantry that serves the neighborhood. In the first two days of the Extreme Home Makeover we’ve collected over 800 pounds of food.

I am just amazed by all of the behind scenes things on this project. There is a staging area across Keystone (a major street in the city) in an industrial park. All of the trucks are queued up and ready to go. When I left Monday evening they were pouring concrete for the resource/library building and working on the basement for the house. One day later they were putting on the roof, running the electricity and putting in the HVAC system.

The show travels with a crew of 70, a security company and trucks of supplies. The community has stepped up with 3000 volunteers, donated goods and labor. All of the food for the volunteers and crew has been donated.

I am most impressed by the work that is being done in the neighborhood. Two abandoned houses have been demolished, several houses painted, tons of trash picked up, windows replaced and 1500 trees planted. It warms my heart to see some basic quality of life things that most of us take for granted being addressed. I can’t say enough about Estridge (the builder for the project) they’re doing things right.

view from the golf cart

I volunteered on Monday and had the best, yet most nerve-wracking volunteer job ever. I told them I'd do anything but drive. So of course I drove all day. I shuttled VIPs around the site in a golf cart. It was disconcerting to look over my shoulder and see a cement truck behind me as I crossed Keystone. My next job was driving the shuttle bus. Sarah Fisher was one of my passengers. I think I sweat through all four layers of clothes I was wearing having her as a passenger. For the record, she was lovely and didn't do any backseat driving.

I also have a media pass, so I'll be photographing the progress each day.

Monday, March 30

Tuesday, March 31

The Golden Gloves matches started this month - John Mellencamp's son is fighting this year adding to the excitement. I've had fun playing with the camera. I really need to take a class - in my spare time.

My favorite thing I did this month? Shopping with June Bug, Mom and Anna for JB's First Communion veil. I was searching for the perfect Godmother gift for such an important occasion - the veil was perfect.

shamrock walk

2009-03-18T00:33:00.001-04:00

In my life I've waffled between being a hyper-planner and a not making plans at all. I think I've settled on being a go-with-the-flow sort of girl. And I could not have planned this day any better anyway.

I signed up for the Shamrock Walk months ago and sent brother J.R. a link. I talked Dad in to participating in the walk the day before. It wasn't until Dad and I were on our way downtown that I thought to call J.R. and ask if he was running.

We were able to find J.R., my friend Sheila and ran in to some Red Key folks in the thousands of people gathered on the Circle.

The four mile walk went through the city, around Irish Hill and past St. Patrick's Catholic Church. J.R. ran and Dad and I walked. Our goal was to walk fast enough to NOT get get tossed in to the trolley picking up the extra-slow folks.

We did it!

Here is Dad crossing the finish line (J.R. patiently waited for us) with Mike, Johnny and Dawn (Red Key regulars).

The clock shows 1:17, but I think our actual time is closer to 1:15 since we didn't cross the start line for a few minutes. Not bad for a 73 year-old guy and his daughter!

Dad's never met a stranger, especially one with a tray of post-race brownies.

We celebrated after the race in the swanky Columbia Club with a bucket of (fake) beer. It was a wonderful way to spend a Saturday morning and I'm looking forward to the next walk with Dad.

maurapalooza

2009-03-16T20:26:00.000-04:00

A big bonus to keeping the house tidy is that I can entertain on short notice.

Maura was visiting from Portland so I had a little post-nonprofit event fawn over Maura party.

It was fun to catch up with her, we have that long-time friendship that can be caught up on a few words. We have several things in common. We're roughly the same age, have a history of dating younger guitar-player types and have never married.

I had a secondary motive for having the party - I still had a whole bunch of beer, wine and booze left from the Saint Valentine's Day party. I was hoping to clear some room in my fridge. Instead, thanks to my generous friends I would up with more beer than I started with. I did manage to finish the last bit in a bottle of Jameson.

It was great to hang out with the gang and a great way to get back in the swing of entertaining.

hanging on my ear

2009-03-15T11:04:00.017-04:00

I feel guilty about all of the unwritten blog posts that are floating around in my head. As I was cooking burgers at the Red Key last night, I realized that they were "hanging on my ear." Chances are they won't get written.

I have been writing my ever-shrinking ass off (26 pounds lost - 4 to go). You can read all about the music and stuff here: QueenBeeMusic.

I've also been working on the house. I'm trying to keep things clean and tidy. My old ways of writing in a nest of books, papers and Twizzler wrappers are gone. It is hard work to keep up! I've also sorted though all of my clothes - some to a resale shop, some to Dress for Success, some for a yard sale and some had to be pitched. I had a pretty impressive concert tee shirt collection, but years of waiteressing in them have taken its toll. I can't believe how emotional I got about tossing some of them.

I've also vowed not to walk out of the house looking like crap. I'm obsessive about brushing my teeth, but not so much my hair. I'm working on applying makeup somewhere besides the rear view mirror. In the last month I've worn a scarf as an accessory (not just to keep my neck warm or cover up a coffee stain), worn something besides big silver hoops in my ears and necklaces other than my beloved John Travolta (Sweathog years, not Scientology). And in the biggest fashion news: I WENT SHOE SHOPPING!

Thanks to Kristi's Christmas generosity, I made my first trip to DSW. It was totally overwhelming. I'm glad she went with me or I'm sure I would have run screaming from the store.

Here are the shoes that I got with the gift certificate, they are darker than they appear in this photo - a lovely brownish-ivory color. And yes, that is a leg lamp in the background. I said I was keeping the house clean, nothing about classy!

In my new found quest of self-improvement I fell for some fancy skincare creams. "Look younger! Smooth lines!" Ha! I broke out so badly that my face puffed up (yeah, that smoothed those lines right out) and I my face was covered in tiny blisters (looked like teenage acne, so yeah, younger) and had to get a prescription for magic make-things-better cream.

I've also been making myself separate myself from work a little bit. I realized that I was at the dangerous point of wrapping my identity up with my job. I've been making myself stop on the way home from work and do something - be it a bowl of soup at the News Cafe, dinner at Yat's or a trip to the grocery store. Something to create a division between work and home. It seems to be working.

All of this self improvement has brought some excitement too. The boys seem to be noticing. Nothing close to a date, but fun stuff. For the first time since Joey Ramone gave me a nod in 1983, a musician openly flirted with me on-stage. Lose weight, wear a mini-skirt and cowboy boots, throw a camera over your shoulder and next thing you know you're on a tour bus.

I need to work on my technique from there. Chattering nervously about how we listened to the band while touring Ireland and that we drove through their hometown singing their songs at the top of their lungs was probably not the most impressive thing I could have done. Here is the review and photos from the show.

See you soon!

testing

2009-03-02T08:25:00.000-05:00

basement clothes and porch beers

2009-02-17T23:35:00.002-05:00

I'm sure this has happened to all of us. You're cleaning up after a party and discover a broken glass or that something got knocked off the wall or you find something mysterious in the kitchen.

I didn't discover this until the day after the Saint Valentine's Day party.

The door knob was missing from my closet door. You can sort of see it poking out from under the door. I didn't realize it until it was time for me to leave to work at Marigold. And you can't go to work at the clothing store looking like a slouch. All of my skirts and dresses were behind that door.

I grabbed a holiday dress from storage in the basement, and looked okay for work --if not a little inappropriately sparkly for a Sunday afternoon shift.

It's not the first time I've worn "basement clothes." It usually happens when I have a guest sleeping in my room and I've forgotten to take clothes to the living room with me for the next day. I've walked out the door with some funny outfits, depending on what is in my laundry basket in the basement.

I did get the door open after work. Good old farm girl ingenuity. And in the farm tradition, the screwdriver is still there. No reason to actually fix it until the next party.

"Basement clothes" reminds me of how many self-explanatory, short-hand, slang terms my friends and family have for things.

"Porch beers" can mean one of two things: sharing a beer with someone on the porch or telling someone to "shop" on my porch for beer. I still have plenty out there after the party.

"The Bumpy" is the nickname for the liquor store down the street. It morphed from a rap song about a bumpy bottle. [for the record, I don't drink as much as this post might suggest!]

"Jeff beer" is shorthand for a Miller Genuine Draft Light at Red Key.

"Nora drink" is a Jameson and water - little bit of Irish whiskey, heavy on the water.

"Hanging on my ear" is family short-hand for I don't know where the shoe/glove/person/book/car/what ever you might be looking for is.

"Doris Day parking" - finding the perfect parking place. Like Doris always does in her movies.

"Payday eve" means Thursday (even if you get paid on a day besides Friday). I'm a big fan of "eve" -- birthday eve, Christmas Eve eve -- you get the idea!

"Research" - a polite term for stalking someone via Facebook or Google.

Do you have any work or family shorthand?

saint valentine's day 2009

2009-02-15T00:27:00.020-05:00

This year might hold the new record for the number of guests at my annual Saint Valentine's Day party. According to my guest book (and my memory) over 100 people wandered through my house. I think there were at least 50 people there at once. I got wedged in the kitchen at one point and the hallway turned in to a one-way street.

I love getting the house ready for Saint Valentine's Day. Decorating is so much more fun than dusting. It's no accident that the whole house is lit by candlelight and Christmas lights.

I did take a couple of hours to dust the PEZ collection for the first time in years.

These beautiful roses were delivered to my doorstep the day before the party. Thanks Kristi!

In twenty-six years the annual Saint Valentine's Day party as changed a little bit. Some of the early years the refreshments consisted of a keg of beer and a plate of heart-shaped cookies.

Now the food is the focus.

As you see, I added some healthier choices. I made myself eat two vegetables for every cookie. I ate a lot of veggies....and a lot of cookies.

Not to say that there was not a well-stocked bar...

...or beer selection.

There were more kids than ever this year. My nephew was the leader of the pack.

Here he is with his favorite PEZ.

Aunt Nora was so preoccupied with her hostess duties that she absentmindedly handed him a lighter when he asked.

Don't the kids have the a "we're not doing anything look" on their sweet little faces?

I didn't take very many photographs -- I was too busy chatting and laughing. And eating and maybe drinking an Irish whiskey or two.

Jeannie

Michael, Jane, Robert

Beth, Jerry and Ron

Beth, Anna, June Bug and Jerry

Joni and the girls.

We all had great fun with the feather wreath from my front door....

Papa

And then the twins arrived....

Caroline and Katy

June Bug, Katy and J.R.

Miss O. and Evan

Jolie and Katy

Katy in the wreath -- look at her little hand peeking out.

Tammy (mother of those cute kids) and Papa.

I had a wonderful time this year. I was able to take Friday off and Beth ran around shopping with me and we had a blast. Things are so much easier with help. I was able to sleep in on party day and still feel slightly organized.

It was fun to dress up and show off the smaller Nora. I love this photograph -- and I have no idea who the guy behind me is. That's the beauty of the party, you never know who will show up in your living room.

post script: The handkerchief in the top photograph is from the folks that live in the Little Red House by the Park. I adore it - and them. I need to apologize to the people that handed me tulips, candy and wine. Unless there was a card, I totally forgot who gave me what. The See's candy was totally worth the Weight Watchers points.

i have become the crazy cat lady down the street

2009-02-13T09:08:00.004-05:00

I was up late last night, cleaning and baking. The cleaning led to an allergy attack (perhaps I should dust more than once a year) and one of my eyes swelled shut.

I went next door to walk the neighbors dog. My cat, Felix walked out of my open door right in to the path of the dog. They started a chase, dragging me along. We slid down my steep front yard -me on my bum.

My neighbor came home to see me sitting on my ass, cowboy boots tucked in to sweat pants, wearing a Dead Milkman tee-shirt, hair in a pony-tail on the top of my head and one eye and the dog doing his business.

*sigh.

Follow up: The next night I was a little smarter when I went to feed Claire and pulled my door shut behind me. Yep. The door locked. It was a long, cold three block walk to the Hostel to fetch the spare set. Different sweat pants, same cowboy boots (they were close to the door) and a short-sleeved CBGB shirt streaked with flour and pink icing.

I let myself in the Hostel, found my keys and nicked a coat from the back of a door for the walk home.

*sigh

woo hoo otis gibbs!

2009-02-10T08:42:00.004-05:00

Otis Gibbs' album, Grandpa Walked A Picketline is #5 on the Americana Radio Chart. Technically he's tied with Lucinda Williams for #4. I'm thrilled for him - it's well deserved.

Here is my blog post from the CD release show.

out of whack

2009-02-09T21:34:00.006-05:00

I've been out of sorts lately. Not only have I been crabby but it feels like my whole being is out of whack.

I've been tripping over things, jamming fingers, banging knees on doors and getting paper cuts by looking at boxes at Target.

Seriously, who gets not one, but two cuts from the box on an embarrassing feminine product? After I bled on it I had to purchase it. I was also running an errand for Tammy and the twins so besides the bloody box of embarrassment I also had baby bottle nipples and a package of Fig Newtons on the conveyor belt. And the woman in front of me in the line had her credit card denied so there was a big rigmarole and the people in line behind me stacked up. My hand is bleeding and it didn't occur to me to purchase a box of tissues to sop it up. And I was trying to catch the cashier's eye to tell her to let me swipe the box over the scanner so she didn't have to risk touching the soggy box. I'm surprised that I didn't have a stroke by the time it was over.

I tend to be hyperaware of my surroundings and people's feelings. I'm really good at being sensitive to feelings and situations. Not yesterday.

That photo, my friends, is of my Jesus key ring on my display table at the Hebrew congregation in my neighborhood. I hope no one thought that I was making any kind of statement...

And if that was not bad enough, I swore in front of a man of the cloth today. I popped in to the library after work and a man stopped me and asked if I was Nora. Why, yes I am. He introduced himself as the pastor of a neighborhood church and asked if I'd help him find music for the farmer's market that his congregation hosts. Sure, I'd love to.

He handed me his card and I asked if I could give him my email address to send me the details. I remarked that I'd probably use his card as a bookmark and find it weeks later and "wonder why in the Hell I had it."

*sigh. I'm going to bed, before I do anymore damage to myself and others.

january wrap-up

2009-02-02T18:20:00.000-05:00

The month flew by. I shoveled snow, swapped soup and snapped photos.

I worked extra shifts to earn enough to buy a new camera -- that I'm still not sure how to use. It's big and fancy and I need a class to learn more about it. I've read the manual, watched the videos, quizzed friends and slept with it one night in a effort to figure it out. As we all know how well jumping in to bed with someone right away works out. Or so I've read.

It snowed. A lot. Almost 13 inches in one day. The 10th largest snow in recorded weather history. In my arrogance I drove to work. I believe that I can do anything. In a foot of snow. With my 2001 S-10 pickup. I did make it -- I left early, before all of the snow fell. Getting out of my driveway is a breeze. It's the getting back in that is a challenge. You'd think that for feeling invincible I'd be more confident.

Soup. I made it, I swapped it and I ate lots of it. No wonder I only lost two pounds last month. The good news: I'm only four pounds away from my goal of losing 30 pounds.

I'm still dealing with fallout from The Incident. Mostly from my bank. I have my checking, savings and mortgage accounts at the same bank (don't worry, I'm still a few bucks away from the $250,000 FDIC insured cap). The coffeehouse also used the same bank as does Second Helpings. When I called to cancel my debit card I had to talk them down from closing every account attached to my name. Even though the coffeehouse accounts were long closed I still show up as a signer, so at least a dozen accounts showed up under my name. It took almost two weeks until I could access my account online.

To top it all off, the day of The Incident I deposited an $80 check that I found from a writing gig. That bounced. The paper switched bank accounts in the four months it took me cash it. So my account had $80 less than I thought. Plus a $39 charge. And that led to bouncing an online payment that I made at $39 a pop PER DAY. And without online access to the account I didn't know about it. The bank said they tried to call me, but it took me a few days to realize that I had to set up the voicemail on the new phone.

In the meantime, I'd try to log on to check my account and pay my bills and could not. I would call and a patronising person will tell me that I just didn't understand how to log in. And I would believe them (see lack of confidence sentence above) even though I've done my banking online for years and only write checks (sadly) at Marigold and the Red Key. After one call to try to get it straightened out my debit card stopped working. At the gas pump. After dark. In a sketchy neighborhood. And I was still a little fragile.

I finally had time during banking hours to go to a branch to try to figure it out. The teller looked a little confused as I rattled off the my account number, but he did something magic and I was able to use the card and access my account. I was able to convince the credit card company, the mortgage folks and utilities to drop the service charges that were levied since I couldn't get access to my money. But the bank would not budge on charges.

My CEO came to me the other day. Someone had charged a $25 donation to the Inauguration Fund to our payroll account. The payroll account is used for just that. We deposit enough money in the account to cover payroll. Since most of the staff uses direct deposit the money is usually in and out within two days. As she was asking how we should handle it, I was thinking about what a coincidence it was that I'd made that same donation to the Inauguration. I looked at the number attached to the donation and realized that it was my debit card number - tied to the payroll account!

That explained everything - why I couldn't get in to account and why the purchases were denied. And now I have proof of why I couldn't see my that I had a negative balance. I'll get those bounced check charges dropped yet.

Okay, this turned in to a long boring post about the bank. Sorry. But that might well be the most exciting story of the month. I'm ready for February.

super bowl

2009-02-01T19:18:00.006-05:00

I'm sitting at the Northside Newsstand watching the game, actually watching the commercials --truth be told, writing my column and goofing around with the built-in camera in my MacBook. I kind of forgot about the camera until the Aretha hat appeared on one of the few Photo Booth pictures that I had.

Okay, back to multi-slacking.

facebook

2009-01-28T13:01:00.002-05:00

As I was telling Gette in a Facebook instant message chat last night, I feel like I'm cheating on this blog some times with my love of Facebook. If I get a whiff that any of you bloggers are also on Facebook, I'll track you down...um, hi Lacy.

Facebook allows for the speedy upload of photographs and you can do a one sentence status update. Today mine says: Nora thinks you should all stay home today. She and her hat have it under control.

This fabulous photo appeared on my Facebook page the other day. A friend photoshopped Aretha Franklin's Inauguration hat on to my head. I love this photo of me. It's from the day that I got my MacBook. I was following the the instructions for setting it up when it asked for a picture and the camera was activated. The look on my face is pure amazement and joy. Of course, not six hours later I'd already scarred the poor thing.

Today is a snow day. There is almost a foot of snow on the ground. The public school is closed and we closed Second Helpings, but I came in anyway. I wanted to make sure all of the agencies that were open could get food. And the students came in to prepare for their big buffet tomorrow. I got so much done! It's amazing what you can accomplish with out any interruptions.

We had a nice cozy lunch and now I'm heading home to shovel out my driveway (and work off those chicken enchaladas the students made).

Get your own Aretha hat by clicking here.

post script:

The best $40 + tip I ever spent. Not only did I get my long driveway shoveled but I feel a little more comfortable with the neighborhood kids. I'll admit to to feeling a little trepidation when two guys approached me as a I was shoveling, but we soon negotiated a price and the three of us knocked it out in half an hour. It takes me at least two hours and I probably wouldn't have gone all the way back.

The bad news: I still can't get in the driveway. The street has not been plowed yet and every time I try to make the turn in to the drive I get hung up. Luckily I can park the truck in the lot of a neighboring business (an annual batch of toffee goes a long way).

soup swap 2009

2009-01-25T22:01:00.010-05:00

There were a record number of soups this year--29 varieties, 168 quarts!, at Kirsten and Ben's swap. You can see my very photogenic corn and potato chowder above.

My favorite part is the Telling of the Soup - sharing with the group about your soup. Dad attended this year with his Ox Tail soup. Here he is telling a sweet story about his sister Joan and the ingredients in his soup -- garden-grown sweet corn and peppers and tomatoes.

We ate very hearty soups when I was young. Stew and chili. The traditional Campbell's tomato and chicken and noodle are still favorites. On a side note, when I lived on the same street in Riverton, New Jersey as Joseph Campbell did from 1872 until his death in 1900.

I'm not very confident in my soup-from-scratch skills so I consulted the family recipes. The fact that I found almost 400 recipes for cakes and cookies and just two for soup - and they both contained hot dogs as the main ingredient explained a lot about my eating habits.

I dug a little deeper and found a spiral bound church cookbook that four of Dad's sisters signed! I forgot that I had it (and had moved it from state to state). I was looking for a recipe that featured corn or that I could add corn to - I had to make room in the freezer if I was going to try to wedge six quarts of soup in there. I found a potato soup from Aunt Mary Alice - and it made me giggle. She's such an intuitive cook that she does not mess with measuring or cooking times or temperatures. Two potatoes for each onion, milk and salt and pepper.

I started with those ingredients, sauteing the chopped onions in butter, adding chopped celery and carrots. To that I added soy milk, potatoes and corn. It did turn out quite nice. And I got to spend some quality time with my beloved stove. I was having so much fun looking at recipes and puttering around the house that I stayed home - on a Friday night. I'm going to be hard pressed to find something to write about for my music column.

The soup swap is just another reminder of why I love the community I'm in. Lovely people that genuinely care about each other and the world we live in. Dad was a hit - here we are with Rachel, who used to live on the other side of the double.

It was a great way to spend Sunday...and guess what I had for supper?

What to host your own soup swap? Check out Kirsten's guidelines here. If you have one, let me know - I'd love to pass it on to Kirsten.

More photos here.

Read Kirsten's soup swap posts here and here and read the piece she wrote for the national soup swap site here.

catchin' up

2009-01-24T00:33:00.001-05:00

I'm sorry about the plethora of back-dated posts --December 31 to now were posted in the last three days.

They'd been rolling around in my head for a month and I wanted to catch up while I had time. I'd left this blog in the back burner for so long that I was afraid I'd never get back to it. Blogging is one of my favorite things, but I took some time off to get my life in order - organize the house, clean out storage space, write about music, take naps and read books.

I hope not to get so far behind in writing -- and reading your blogs, but no promises!

mlk jr. day at the farm

2009-01-19T22:00:00.006-05:00

Ann Herr Mitchell and I always get to the farm early to set up the fry station, roll up the dough to make donut holes, bread fish and make sure that nothing catches on fire -- and put it out if it does. That's what we do, its our thing, our routine and our time together. We're full of giggles and good cheer.

I was especially looking forward to it this year. I actually laughed out loud on the way to the farm in anticipation. Our traditions had taken a big hit last year. I was Blogstock for July 4th - I'm not second guessing or regretting my decision, I had a wonderful time. Unfortunately it would turn out to be the last with Larry and Kathy and it was the first without Mr. Herr. There was no celebrating Christmas with Ann this year either, in light of Larry and Kathy's deaths just two days before.

Imagine my surprise and dismay when I learned that dad had replaced us! And by dismay, I mean that I was furious! Frosted! Dare I say it - pissed off! This lead to Ann and I having heated discussions in the kitchen and exchanging lots of glances and internal eye-rolling. The whole thing might have been a little easier to swallow if our replacement was not so condescending and bossy.

There was a group of guys around the fryers trying to get them lit. I asked if I could try it and was told: It's a complicated piece of equipment. Those are fighting words dude! And it's really not a complicated piece of equipment - light the pilot, turn up the gas to heat the oil and fry stuff. And there might be one person in the group that has lit more fryers in their career in the foodservice business than any of the assembled yahoos. Any maybe someone who had lit those very fryers the year before. Hummm, who could that be?

Between Ann and I (with a quick call to her brother to confirm something) the pilot lights were lit in no time. Our replacement started to fry something immediately, and I very nicely suggested that maybe he should wait until the oil got to the proper temperature. I handed him the thermometer and skedaddled out of the barn before I stuck it some where that I shouldn't.

Annie and I retreated to the house where we exchanged Christmas gifts - she gave me a swell jacket (that makes me look shapely!), a necklace, an amazing photo album (did you know that we were fifth grade cheerleaders?) and a great photo calendar. I gave her a 2.5 gallon shop vac and a Spode tree pattern bowl. I have no idea where I stashed the books I bought for her.

I had a come-to-Jesus talk with myself and decided that I was not mad at our replacement -- after all, he'd never been there before and had no idea that we usually ran the 'kitchen.' I decided that I should be mad at dad, but made myself get over that - it would make for a very long day if I didn't. I wish I could say that I quit grumbling, but that would be a lie.

We did go back to the barn and impart our 15 years of cooking for the event knowledge. And I did mention to dad that an apprentice year might have been appropriate for the new cooks and I let it go.

As it turned out the cook took off after a couple of hours and Nora and the cousins went back to their routine -- breading fish, telling stories and drinking beer.

I needed some normalcy after the craziness of the last month. Of course, it's pretty funny that cooking in a fryer, in a barn, on the Martin Luther King holiday, drinking beer is normal - but it feels more right than a lot of things in my life.

I did take time to give the next generation a lesson.

More friends than ever made the trip to the farm.

And you're all invited next year - just don't get between Ann and me and the fryer.

Here are more photographs of the day - and I thought that posing the twins was great fun, poor things.

proud as can be

2009-01-17T23:31:00.000-05:00

I know it sounds trite and goofy, but I'm proud of all of my friends. I'm surrounded by so many fantastic and talented people and I especially love it when I get to see their name on a marquee.

I worked extra hard for the last three weeks to earn enough money for a new camera. I really wanted to have it for Otis Gibbs' album release party. I giggled when I saw Otis’ name on the marquee of the Vogue and a ticket scalper in front of the Vogue. I think a scalper is a sure sign that you’ve made it!

The Vogue was packed! I overheard someone say the evening felt like a class reunion; only it was with people that you actually want to see. I was anxious to catch up with singer-songwriter, friend, former co-worker and Otis girlfriend -- Amy Lashley. I had not seen her since they moved to Nashville over a year ago.

I was enjoying the camaraderie and my new camera even though I had no idea how to actually use it.

Otis started the show with several solo acoustic songs, then brought Amy to the stage to sing and the rest of the band to join him.

They sounded great and harmonized beautifully.

I loved looking back and seeing another friend, Jonee Quest running sound.

I wound up spending the second half of the show selling Otis merchandise. Which I love! I’m not good at math or standing still, but I seem to be a merch savant. I told music booker/ talent buyer, Matt Schwegman that I’d always wanted to be a merch girl at the Vogue. I guess I need a new goal now.

It became apparent after just a few minutes that I had totally no idea how to operate my new SLR camera, including shooting without the flash. I’d read the manual and practiced on my cat, but that didn’t translate to real life photography. Matthew “Dirty Matt” Aaron gave me a quick lesson. Matt is an amazing photographer, you can find his work lining the backstage walls of Verizon Music Center (Deer Creek for you traditionalists) and in a bunch of CDs. Getting a photo lesson from Matt is equivalent to getting a violin lesson from Itzhak Perlman.

I made my annual trip to the Alley Cat after the show. Much like the Red Key, nothing seems to change there – in a good way.

Amy and I caught up on our lives pretty quickly.

The show also marked my first time out and about after The Incident - wheeee!

More photos here.

de-clutter

2009-01-11T12:16:00.000-05:00

I've hauled tons of crap out of this house and it has been painful.

Painful finding the time to do it.

Painful actually doing it.

Painful reliving the memories of the stuff that I found or wondering why in the hell I kept it in the first place. Did I save that piece of paper because it was some life changing thing - and then I didn't follow up?

A couple of weeks ago I was feeling particularly non-nostalgic and took advantage of that by doing major culling of papers. I filled baskets with papers and drove to the recycling bin only to have great remorse about throwing away decades of ticket stubs. I stood in the subzero afternoon picking through the papers, rescuing the tickets.

The oldest I found was from 1980- Journey.

And they don't take up that much room, really.

It made me nostalgic for actual tickets. With online ticket sales you print out a bar code, festivals use wristbands, most of the music I see you just pay a cover - no ticket or I'm on 'the list' -- no actual ticket.

I think I finally found a filing system that works for me. I'm not a file folder kind of person - but throwing it on a shelf seems to work. At least its separated out, right?

I have managed to pare down - except that I have not had the energy to go through the box of photographs yet. I can only imagine what that will stir up...