Incurable Insomniac

I Would Rather...

2009-12-15T19:26:00.001-06:00

I would rather you exercise your inability to accept me rather than simply "forget" that I exist. At least I could respect you for living up to your ethics.

I would rather you love your daughter more than you hate what I am.

I would rather you tell me to my face how you feel about me than smile and not mean it.

I would rather you not take your disapproval of me out on your daughter. She doesn't deserve it.

I would rather you not talk to me ever again. Don't invite us over and don't send us your crumbs.

Merry Christmas to you, too.

When Will It End?

2009-12-15T11:31:00.000-06:00

I'm not whining, really I'm not. It's just that Mercury must be retrograde or something. As if giving myself a mild concussion last week wasn't enough, I cracked a bone in my finger last night. Typing this isn't easy, but sod it. If I put off doing things while I'm letting something heal, nothing would get done. The good news is, all of the concussion symptoms are gone and I didn't seem to do any real, irreversible damage. Unless, maybe, breaking my finger was evidence of my depth perception being affected. Nah, I've never had that.

Other than this, I'm getting a lot of work done for a client and last night my dreams were full of ideas for my musical (some are even usable). Yay, my creativity is returning! Now, if only I can get through the day without dropping something on my toe or running into a door. Glad we no longer have stairs.

I've Always Loved Mr. Bean

2009-12-14T15:29:00.000-06:00

Houston's New Mayor: Annise Parker

2009-12-13T12:33:00.001-06:00

Annise Danette Parker was elected mayor of Houston on Saturday, winning her seventh consecutive city election and becoming both the first contender in a generation to defeat the hand-picked candidate of Houston's business establishment and the first openly gay person to lead a major U.S. city. Parker and her partner, Kathy Hubbard, have been together since 1990. They have two adopted children.

Damn! That's close to home!

To read the full story, click here.

Family Traditions, be They Ever so Humble

2009-12-13T11:38:00.004-06:00

I'm not really in the mood to write an entry today, but Nettl wrote a great one about one of our family's Christmas traditions. It's funny how something that gets burned into your clan's collective memory can seem insignificant until someone brings it up and talks about it. Why don't you head over to her blog, A Window to My Soul, and find out about the infamous Ugly Chicken? (You know you want to...)

I'm a Guest Poster at Last!

2009-12-12T11:48:00.000-06:00

I've always wanted to be asked to write a guest post. Seems to me that if someone asks you, it means they like your writing enough to entrust their hit counts to you for a day or so. Well, that dream has come true for me because Sue over at Back Door Logic recently invited me to write a guest post for her great blog. A few weeks ago I gave Sue my Remarkable Women Bloggers Award. You really should go check her out (and not just because of my guest post). She has so much wisdom, and her story is a compelling one. She's quite exceptional! To read my post, click here.

The great drawing is by Sue's brother-in-law, Steve Dean.

A Very Stevie Saturday #2: Teach Yourself Lennon & McCartney

2009-12-12T00:54:00.003-06:00

This video is used with the kind permission of Stevie Riks. In his words, "The more the merrrier!"

Friday Already?

2009-12-11T02:44:00.001-06:00

What? I lost a couple of days this week. I know I was here--I have blog entries to prove it. I just can't believe that it's already the weekend. I think it was Monday and Tuesday that I lost. Oh well.

Tonight we're going to the annual Chamber Singers Christmas party that is being held at Dr. Lawlor's house. These parties are always nice. They remind me of my days with the symphony in California, except that the people aren't snobby. The best part is that they are attended solely by musicians and I'm able to "talk shop", something I sorely miss throughout the year. Because yesterday afternoon and evening were a little rough health-wise, I'm going to lay kind of low today. I wait all year for this party and I refuse to either miss it or feel like crap while I'm there.

Nettl got a huge box of copies of her book, So Faithful A Heart, delivered yesterday--all copies that people had ordered from her--so last night she sat at the table signing them. Go here if you're interested in ordering a copy, or just want to find out more about it.

Now I have to get cracking on mine. This bump on my noggin really set me back...

Wherever We Are, it's Damned Cold

2009-12-10T11:28:00.000-06:00

When it gets as cold as it's been the past week, it's easy to find all of the air leaks in an old house. Last night it got down to 4° f, and my feet found every cold spot. I have to say though, for an 80 year-old house, it's more airtight than the new-construction house we lived in before moving. All the same, I had to put a rolled up blanket at the foot of the front door, and our big bed pillows up against the window seat in the bedroom.

As I sit here, cozy in my bed, I watch people outside, walking or biking to school with their parka hoods tied up tight. It's a clear day, with blue skies holding only a few wisps of clouds. If not for the barren trees, it could be spring or summer. The thermometer, however, tells me that it's now 19°. No snow in the forecast. It's supposed to get as high as 61° on Sunday... a heatwave!

That's the funny thing about this state. We're too far north to be the South (although maps say otherwise), and we're too far south to be considered the North. Likewise, we're too far west to be considered the Midwest, and we're too far east to be considered the Southwest. Most people think we're part of the Midwest, but the midwest ends at the southern border of Kansas. As someone who's from southern California, I have a hard time thinking of this as a Southwestern state. Wiki places us as a south-central state, which rings true with me. All of this ambiguity is played out in our weather patterns.

Oh well, I have things to do today so I'd better get to them. I've venturing out to the store; I haven't had a headache for 24 hours, and I'm not feeling particularly "goofy" in the head either. And my brain hasn't stuttered once while writing this! Yeah, I think I can manage the half-mile trek to the store.

Thinking-Impaired Creep

2009-12-09T11:52:00.002-06:00

I think I'm okay until I find myself doing something that I know better than to do... and until I attempt a sentence like that one and am not sure if it came out all right. (Why isn't there a contraction for "am not"? What would it be, am'nt?) It's not until I do something like I did last night that I'm pret-ty sure that I shouldn't attempt driving for a little while.

I consider myself to be web savvy. I'm a web designer after all, and I've been hanging out in the ether since before it was call The Web (my first online experience was in 1989). I know that a blue, underlined word or phrase is a link, and that a the word "Report" (in blue and underlined) means that you can report an offense. Why then did I think that if I clicked it I would be taken to a list of reports made against someone? Have I ever seen that to be the case? No. Why did I click it? Why should I even care? Now I feel like a creep.

I did what I could to fix the problem by sending an emergency email to the site's support department, confessing what I did. I didn't tell them that I have a concussion though; I didin't think think that I was a thinking-impaired creep. (See that last sentence??? That's what I'm talking about! I've been doing that a lot in the last couple of days!) Trying again: I didn't want them to think that I was a thinking-impaired creep.

I feel better today though. No headache so far, and I'm drinking coffee with no nausea (I prefer sugar...arr arr!). I slept well AND I showed the cat who's boss this morning. It's a good day. I've been working my sudoku puzzles to keep my thinking strong; not sure if it's working though.

Cat Wants Out, In, Out, In

2009-12-08T12:03:00.005-06:00

Every morning the cat and I go through the same routine: she goes to the front door employing the meow I recognize as demanding, "I want to go outside!" If I try to ignore it, even if for only a couple of seconds mind you, or if I hiss at her or tell her no, she starts clawing the chair, ripping up the tassel that hangs from the doorknob, and jingling the bells that decorate the door. When I finally give in, get up, and open the door, she sticks her head out looking around, and plops her hairy ass down. She'd do that for several minutes if I let her and all of the heat inside the house would escape. Then she looks up at me as if I'm supposed to do something about the freezing weather just for her. If I push her outside, she stands howling to get back in and if I don't, the routine continues on and on ad nauseum. Invariably I have to get up several times, and in my perturbation I trip over my laptop's power cord, ram my toe into the end of the bed, and nearly kill myself on the desk chair. Right now, with this concussion, my vision isn't so great when I first wake up and I feel a bit too disoriented to play this game.

Why do cats do this!?

This evening I will pass the critical 72-hour point since I played head-butt with a corner on the antique clock. I'm still not feeling great and that kind of worries me, but really, what can I do?

No medical insurance + no money =

welcome to the American Dream.

See that part that projects out from the clock? That's what clocked me. It, however, seems no worse for the wear. The worse part is the intermittent nausea that nothing, not even my trusty Zantac or Tagamet, fixes. At least it could snow while I'm sitting here in this bed. Outside, it looks like it should snow, but all we're getting is a mournful drizzle.

And now the cat's out there yowling to be let in. Sigh.

Our Christmas Cottage

2009-12-07T15:15:00.000-06:00

Lynette took these pictures to post on her blog, and because I don't feel up to taking new ones (and because these are so pretty), I've decided to post them too.

No presents under the tree yet, but that will come in time.
(That's clock that clocked me!)

A bowl of "sugared" fruit & gilded pine
cones on the table by the front door.

Festive bookcase.

There's an elf in the kitchen!

Boink!

2009-12-07T13:43:00.001-06:00

Wow, I have a mild concussion! As a kid I wanted one--isn't that silly? Other kids got them, but not me. Now that I have one, I don't like it very much.

On Saturday evening we decorated our Christmas tree and as I was putting on the lights, I ran my head into the corner of the big antique wall clock. I saw stars and had to sit down because I got dizzy. Then it passed--outside of a headache--and we continued decorating. I had a hard time sleeping, and was nauseas, but yesterday I decorated the front porch, bought groceries, and cooked a full-on Viennese dinner for a dinner party. Sleeping last night was really difficult and today I'm staying in bed. The nausea is still there--Tagamet and Rolaids didn't even touch it--so I'm going to take a nap as soon as I post this.

Oh, lucky me! Bleagh.

Back By Popular Demand: 101 Gifts Under $10

2009-12-05T23:42:00.005-06:00

Through the year (especially now that it's Christmas time) I've noticed a lot of hits on my blog that are generated by this entry's title. For all of you who want to see it again, here is my list of Christmas gifts for under $10.

Gourmet coffee with a personal coffee cup
A "blank book" and pen
Teacup with a bag of tea samples
Deck of cards and book of card game rules
Homemade cocoa mix in a homey jar (wrap the lid with gingham and tie with a ribbon)
Collage of special photos
Gel pens and stationary
Bottle of sparkling cider
Inexpensive bottle of wine
Home baked bread, include recipe
Basket of deli cheese and fruit
Holiday serving bowl or platter
Christmas tree ornament (paint 2009 on it, something like, 2009 - Friends for 10 years!)
Scented candles
Decorative napkins and napkin rings
Funny bar napkins, swizzle sticks, or shot glasses
Fancy chocolate bars tied with a ribbon
Gardening gloves with a plant, or flower seeds
Hand decorated photo album
Herbal soups tied in lace and ribbon
Makeup tote
Homemade cookie mix with instructions for baking
Special coffee cup filled with candy
Vintage dish, vase, or pair of wine glasses from a favorite thrift store
Vintage costume jewelry from the same thrift store
Gourmet popcorn and flavored oil
Locally made barbecue or steak sauce with basting brush
Pancake or waffle mix and a bottle of real maple syrup
Old book from a used book store. Classics and poetry are especially nice.
Board games
Jar of pure honey with biscuit mix
Note cards
Picture frame with a meaningful photo
Glass jar filled with candy
Muffin mixes with muffin pan
Set of dish towels and dish cloths
Nail polish kit
Pretty night shirt
Basket filled with kitchen gadgets from a dollar store
Video rental gift certificate
Pepper mill and fresh peppercorns
Handwritten copies of your favorite recipes
For the pets, gourmet dog biscuits or cat treats
Small clock or radio
Decorated shoebox for keepsakes
Colorful Post-It notepads
Address book
Puzzles
Sewing supplies
Favorite quote embroidered on a nice handkerchief
Makeup brush set
Cozy socks
Home baked cookies and/or fudge
Sets of special chopsticks
Basket of Christmas cookie cutters
Holiday guest towels
New calendar
Coasters
Incense and holder
Small figurine from an antique store
Aromatherapy essential oils
Emergency cell phone charger
Silly tie for Dad, with the purpose of being silly
Hand cream
Massage oil
Fleece throw
Slippers
For musicians: guitar picks, sheet music, note pads
Something geeky from a place like this
Tasteful fridge magnets
Sample box of chocolates from a chocolatier
Classic oldies CD
Sealing wax and seal
Pound of roasted cashews
Scarf
Mittens
Sketch book
On-sale gift book
Nature gifts like these
Bird feeder
Table scarf
House plant
Glass paperweight
Candle holder
Trendy costume jewelry
Decorative padded jewelry box
Bubble bath or bath salts
Small pail of electrical tools and tape
Garage dads always need note pads and shop pencils
Gag gifts
Golf tees
Mustache trimming kit
Travel sewing kit
Money clip
Desktop calendar
A homemade book of "naughty" coupons
A homemade book of coupons for a massage, foot massage, hairbrushing, etc.
Desk supplies
Roll of pretty fabric. Buy remnants and tie with ribbon
Wall decor that's on sale (check places like Hobby Lobby)
Antique miss-matched silverware from a thrift store. Not an entire set, four teaspoons are nice

A Very Stevie Saturday #1: Keith & Mick

2009-12-05T13:14:00.005-06:00

I've posted one or two videos by the very talented and funny Stevie Riks before, but I decided last night to start this new series which will run for a number of weeks. I've been watching Stevie for over a year now, and he just keeps getting better. He makes all of his videos in his house outside Liverpool using costumes, props and sometimes, his wife's clothes and makeup. Not only does he do impressions of pop stars (writing his own material), he also imitates their music, playing all of the instruments and singing all of the parts himself.

If you know me very well, you know that I love "handmade" productions, or at least those that look handmade (Mystery Science Theater 3000, for example), and this is one of the charms of Stevie's videos. I have to admit that I find myself sitting on a precarious fence where his work is concerned. On the one hand I'd love to see him get all the recognition he deserves, getting his own show on television, or making a tour of the U.S., for example, but selfishly, I don't want his videos to lose the intimacy they contain, clutter, dogs, and all. Would he be as funny and gifted on a sound stage or a television studio? Certainly. Would I still watch him? Of course. But would something endearing or palpable get lost? Probably. Whatever happens to his career, I will congratulate him.

So, here's the video I selected to be the first of this series. I've laughed my ass off watching it any number of times. Hope you do too.

This video is used with the kind permission of Stevie Riks. In his words, "The more the merrrier!"

Reclaiming my Nine Years

2009-12-04T11:56:00.004-06:00

When we moved last August, we couldn't afford to have the cable turned on, and even now it still seems like an unnecessary expense when we're struggling to keep food in the pantry. Sure, there are times when I miss it, especially right after dinner when I'd like to relax with something mindless, and especially on Sunday night; I really miss my Britcoms on PBS. Other than those two instances, however, I don't miss it at all.

Since disconnecting from the cable beast, I find that I'm more productive artistically speaking, and that I'm not constantly battling the depression that comes with watching the so-called news every evening. I've also discovered that life is moving along a little slower. My days are longer because they're not sectioned up in 30 and 60 minute increments. I'm less aware of time overall, in fact. Moreover (and this is probably just me), I find that I'm beginning to think for myself more, not falling into the groupthink that TV encourages.

Other nice changes are that Nettl and I talk more. We listen to music, play Scrabble, and basically spend better quality time with each other. Our conversations aren't centered around politics or other people's lives, either, which also contributes to our personal happiness. We're writing, growing spiritually, and enjoying our life together.

Last night I put the TV in the garage. I've never liked the way a television looks in a room anyway; It always struck me as odd, that Big Eye sitting there, with the furniture situated toward it rather than facing each other. Our living rooms never encouraged conversation when I was a kid. The TV that Nettl and I have was covering a beautiful piece of furniture--hiding it, actually. If we want to watch a movie or something, I'll bring it back in for that purpose and then put it away when we're done, the same as I do small the crockpot or the food processor. Otherwise, it was just a big black eye in the room. In its place now is an antique oil lamp, a plant, a candle, and a picture of some friends of ours. So much nicer. Today I'll be rearranging the stereo so that it's fairly out of sight; in an old house, all these modern gadgets just look out of place to me.

I remember that back in the late 90s I didn't have cable for about three years. At work, all I heard was, "Did you watch Seinfeld last night?" When I'd reply that I didn't have TV, my co-workers looked at me like I'd said that I spent my evenings sacrificing small animals to Baal. One woman replied, "What do you two do?" (meaning me and my then partner) and I told her that we read, conversed, played board games, listened to music, and entertained friends. I reiterated that we talked a great deal. She couldn't imagine it. I find that I'm going through that again here on line when people in Facebook write about the popular shows, and leave status messages about the people in the shows as if they're family members or friends.

One of the nice things I noticed over Thanksgiving when the kids were here was that no one seemed to miss the TV at all. We spent our time really together--not talking over the noise of a television. We talked about ourselves, each other, life, etc., and not about people on the screen. Nettl and the girls watched a couple of movies on their last day with us, but that's all.

I never want to end up like my parents, keeping the TV on 24/7, waking and sleeping, and living out the end of my life in an opiated state of non-participation. TV is passive and addictive, and it used to keep me from doing things that I really loved, like reading, listening to music, writing, playing music, and spending real time with the people I love. In nice weather I enjoy sitting outside and gardening. I don't think of the computer in the same way as I do the TV because it's not passive. It encourages communication and interaction via writing.

According to the A.C. Nielsen Co., the average American watches more than four hours of TV each day (or 28 hours a week, or two months of nonstop TV-watching per year). In a 65-year life, that person will have spent nine years glued to the tube. Nine years! And I'm sure many people spend a lot more time than the average person. By that count, my parents must have spent about two decades in front of the TV. Seriously. No wonder I grew up feeling neglected. I remember I once told them that they cared more about Jack Tripper, Janet Wood and Chrissy Snow (Three's Company) than they did about their own family.

We'll eventually get cable again, but I'm glad to have broken the addiction so that I can manage my viewing a little better. We've decided that we want to get an armoire with doors that close, both for the aesthetics and to keep our viewing to a minimum when that time comes.

I Got Them Washin' Machine Blues

2009-12-03T12:21:00.001-06:00

It's not that our washing machine doesn't work anymore, it's just that we have to walk it through every cycle. Hell, we've had it for ten years and it's serviced five adults and three teens all that time. I'd say we got our money's worth, but since we can't afford a new one, and because I grew up with a dad who could make a washing machine last twenty years, I refuse to stress over it. All it needs is a new timer, and that we can get after the first of the year. Meantime, it's taking twice as long to do a load of wash because I keep forgetting to get up and advance the cycles

Ah, life.

The YouTube Generation

2009-12-03T00:01:00.005-06:00

Yesterday, as I watched some Beatles videos on YouTube, I read some of the comments that other viewers had made, and the sad, nay, disgraceful shape of our educational system was really evident. Across the board, the kids cannot spell, or even form a coherent sentence. "I should of..." is common enough, but I saw even worse examples. And I'm not talking textonics or lack of even intermediate language skills, I'm talking about gross misspellings of basic words that most of us learned by the third grade.

One, however, made me really laugh. Here I was listening to John Lennon, who loved words and used them to say things in different ways. His first book, for instance, was titled, John Lennon, In His Own Write.

In the comments, a young man had tried to express how John's personality had been adversely affected by fame and drugs. I know that he was not attempting to emulate Lennon, due to all of the errors in his comment. In his last sentence he wrote how John's "sole had been laid to waist". I immediately saw an image in my head that was something like the this picture. I couldn't even congratulate the kid because he would have had no idea what I was talking about. He didn't even know that he'd committed a great Lennonism.

Sixties Faces: Astrid Kirchherr

2009-12-02T10:48:00.006-06:00

Well, that title is a bit misleading, isn't it? This entry is really about a woman who created faces--or images--that still hold power over our thinking half-a-century later.

Astrid Kirchherr was a mere 22 when she met the as yet unfamous Beatles in 1960. They were playing in a dive in the St. Pauli district of Hamburg, Germany, and she saw something in them that inspired her artistic eye. The Beatles were young then (George Harrison was only 17), and they learned a great deal about life working and living in the red light district of Germany's "naughtiest" city.

When Astrid met them, the Beatles dressed like Liverpool Teddy Boys--what we called Greasers here in the States--and it was she who inspired them to change their looks. Astrid and her then boyfriend, Klaus Voorman (who later designed the Beatles' Revolver album cover) were part of a movement in Hamburg that called themselves "Exies", short for Existentialists. The Exis were artists who preferred to listen to Jazz, dress creatively, and followed the "life as art" philosophy. In retrospect it's easy to see that they were a sort of link between the Beatniks and the Hippies, with a little Mod thrown in. Come to think of it, I was more of this ilk in the Sixties!

There were five members of the Beatles back then. The fifth Beatle was Stuart Sutcliffe, John Lennon's friend from art college, and although he couldn't play very well, being John's friend was qualification enough to be in the band. Of all the Beatles (Lennon, Sutcliffe, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, and Pete Best), it was Stucliffe who caught Astrid's attention personally, and they fell in love. When the Beatles left Hamburg, Stewart stayed behind to be with Astrid and to go back to art college. He was already known in Liverpool as a brilliant artist, and he quickly started getting attention in Hamburg (you can see his art here). Before they left, however, the Beatles were photographed by Astrid. Soon after, she cut and styled Stuart's hair into what became known as the Beatle hairstyle, which Klaus and other Exies had worn for some time. Their clothing styles also influenced the Beatles' own, especially the black turtleneck sweaters.

Using natural lighting and interesting backgrounds, Astrid proved herself to no less artistic than the Beatles, with whom she has remained friends. Tragically, Stuart died of a brain hemorrhage in April of 1962, at the age of 22, the night before the Beatles returned to Hamburg just at the precipice of their worldwide success. The story of Astrid and Stuart is told in the 1994 movie, Backbeat.

Here are some of Astrid's photographs (click to enlarge):

George Harrison, Stuart Sutcliffe & John Lennon

Stuart & John

Paul

Paul & George

Pete, George, John, Paul & Stuart

The following are of Stuart and Astrid:

Astrid took the following picture of John and George the day that they arrived in Hamburg in 1962, the day after Stuart had died unexpectedly. It was taken in Stuart's studio in Astrid's house:

In a recent interview, Astrid said,

"When you see John's little face, it's so sad. He looks so lost sitting there, and there's this 18-year-old boy standing behind him looking so strong. I always get the feeling George is saying, 'Don't worry John, I'll be there with you'."

To see more of Astrid Kirchherr's, simply perform an image search.

Oh Cripes, I Hate Feeling Like This

2009-12-01T13:04:00.000-06:00

Since the holiday, I cannot seem to get myself back in alignment. I can't sleep, can't wake up, can't motivate myself to do anything, or even care if I do or I don't. I'm not ill or unhappy--I'm just out of step. I'm working on a blog entry, but I'm not sure when it'll be up.

Thanks for your patience.

Music Appreciation (for people who hate classical music)

2009-11-29T14:23:00.000-06:00

How to Write a Musical

2009-11-28T12:49:00.008-06:00

As a composer I was trained in Classical music. What does that mean? Form, counterpoint, strict harmony and rules, rules, rules. Because I'm a bit obsessive-compulsive and somewhat tight-assed about order and organization, I took to it like nobody's business. It was like being an architect, building from the foundation up and being careful to put in the plumbing in a way that made sense, while creating something of beauty. No one wants to see the plumbing, one only wants it to work.

Now that I'm working on a musical, I'm having to drop a lot of my training, and this isn't easy. You see, my education succeeded in inserting a very large cork up my creative backside, and I'm having to work very hard at dislodging it. I keep telling myself, "Be huge! Be bigger than life! Go over the top!" and other such things. What works in the concert hall will not work on the stage.

Traditionally, women composers (I can't believe we still say this; do we still say women doctors or women lawyers?) have been taught to lay low, to write "feminine" music, music that is not bombastic, bold, or in any way sounds like the music that men compose. It has gotten better, of course, but the attitude can still be felt; a lot of people think that women composers are messing around with something that belongs to men and that it's, well, just not as good or as interesting. The thing is, there have always been women who compose music. From Hildegard von Bingen in the 12th century to modern composers like Vivian Kubrick, we have been around, holding our own in a male dominated field. And music composition is one of the last bastions of male supremacy. Think about it. When was the last time you saw one of those little white composer busts that was of a woman? I only bring this up to illustrate how easy it was for me to sit quietly at my piano, writing "polite" music. Now, however, I am being forced to shed my proverbial cocoon and come out dancing with top hat and cane, with huge gestures and a belting voice. It's a lot of fun. No wonder men have been doing this for so long. This having fun concept is proving to be the most important lesson I'm learning, in fact. What? Composition can be fun? It has always been rewarding for me, even addictive, but fun? Ummm...

As I'm writing this musical, I'm pulling all the stops as it were and rising above my training and education. I'm turning off my mentor's voice and going for the laughs and the applause. Opera is about bowing to the altar if music, while the musical is about bending it into all kinds of absurd shapes and having fun. Composing opera is all about beauty and tradition--about the music; composing a musical is all about entertainment and the audience.

Thanksgiving at Bookends Cottage

2009-11-26T22:52:00.006-06:00

LAST NIGHT:

Nathan (who will be going to Le Cordon Bleu
next year) lends his hand at making pie crusts.

Lauren & Yours Truly doing what we do.

TODAY:

Gobble, gobble...

Till we wobble, wobble.

Raising Thanksgiving Consciousness

2009-11-26T11:31:00.004-06:00

My predilection for living in all tenses, past, present, and future, comes from my dad. People in our family (especially my mother, who didn't understand him at all) thought that he lived in the past, but as I get older--and more like him--I know that this was a false notion.

Holidays like this one send my mind racing back to past Thanksgivings when I was a kid. I remember how much Dad loved the day and how Grandmother always made him his own chocolate cream pie because he didn't like pumpkin. I remember how nostalgic Dad was and I recognized the look he always got on his face when he thought no one was looking. He was looking back to his own childhood, as well as to future Thanksgivings when he would be gone. At the same time, he was completely enjoying the present as well.

I find myself doing this now that I've scaled the "over 50" fence. As I think back on those days at either Grandmother's house or my Aunt Pat and Uncle Don's, I can't help but wonder what our family will become when Nettl and I are gone. Will they get together around the the table, remembering our Thanksgivings as a family? Will they talk about Nettl's apple pies and my jokes that always make Heather nearly spew? Will one of them live in the Thanksgiving time warp that has been passed down?

I've never understood families that get together on these special days just to fuss and fight, and wait impatiently for it to be over. Nothing lasts forever, and one day we may be all alone, looking back on our past holidays. None of us know where we will be then: palace or alley, surrounded by family or in a nursing home with no family left. How do we wish to remember our Thanksgivings? Would we prefer to remember fighting, or savoring it for the blessing that it is?

We will be there one day: our kids will be middle-aged and new generations will take the center of the family stage. If we can remember to exercise a little past-present-future consciousness, we can make memories that will comfort us when we're old.

May you and your family make pleasant memories today that will be remembered with love.

The Blessing of a Blended Family

2009-11-25T19:20:00.004-06:00

Once a year I feel totally justified in waxing sentimental. When I was younger I was part of a large extended family, and Thanksgiving was spent in much the same way that other Americans spent theirs: kids running around, moms, aunts and grandmoms in the kitchen cooking (and nipping on wine), dads, uncles and granddads playing cards, working on cars, BSing (and drinking beer). All that ended for me in 1974 when my grandmother died and our family began to slowly disintegrate. Finally, by 1993 it was all over with my dad's death, and between then and 2000 I don't even remember Thanksgiving without not-so-vague feelings of being a kind of orphan.

When, in 2000 Nettl and I joined our lives and our immediate families, I was given the greatest gift I've ever received: five kids (she has three and I have two). They're all grown now, ranging from 17 to 39. I cannot imagine where I'd be without my family, and when I try to, I cannot imagine being even remotely happy. Tomorrow, we'll all be together, the seven of us, and we'll be doing what many other American families will be doing: cooking, talking, making music, laughing, and eating. I'm relishing every minute; who knows when this will happen again? Soon enough it will be partners and children, and over-crowded schedules.

This year I'm thankful for my family and the way we enjoy each other, and pull together. I'm also thankful for the generosity of friends, who allow me the blessing of relaxing and enjoying the day without worries of where the food will come from. Bless you.

And bless all of you. Have a very happy Thanksgiving!

"I don't care how poor a man is; if he has family, he's rich."
M*A*S*H

"A family is a unit composed not only of children but of men,
women, an occasional animal, and the common cold."
Ogden Nash (Hope you feel better soon, Nathan)

"And thank you for a house full of people I love."
Ward Elliot Hour