Have you ever tried to sing along to a Led Zeppelin song?
Not the easiest thing in the world to do.
But that didn’t deter my kiddos from sending me an mp3 of their Mother’s Day wishes and gift in a verse composed by my Michelle and sung together with my Joe to the tune of Zep’s “Going to California”.
Let me put this in context for you: Joe is in Colorado, Michelle (and hubby David) are in Michigan; they did a speaker phone call to sing this into a little thumb drive recorder attached to Michelle’s computer that she uses for research interviews.
So, it’s the non-musician in the family who orchestrated this fun Mother’s Day greeting…(transcript follows) Continue reading
Something from my husband for your thoughtful consideration –
Tuesday’s edition* of MSNBC’s Morning Joe highlighted comments made by Rep. King of NY concerning his party’s candidate selections.
It matters not to me if one is Republican, Democrat, Independent, or even Green…my issue is with the flagrant tossing out of a suicide threat if his preferred candidate is not nominated as the Republican nominee.
His statement, as told to the Morning Joe panel:
“Well, first of all in case anybody gets confused, I am not endorsing Ted Cruz. I hate Ted Cruz and I think I’ll take cyanide if he ever got the nomination.”
This was my response which I sent to him Wednesday evening via his website’s comment section: Continue reading
Today is bd Day. A between-time of singular personal significance. February 6th of any year is bd Day – Ma’s birthdeath Day.
February 5, 1929 Marylou Mawicke (married – Bruno) was born. February 7, 2007 Ma passed away.
In those last two and a half years we had left living in our home in Colorado following her death, I spent countless days visiting her new cemetery home – talking to her, sitting against her head stone or laying down beside her.
During those two years after losing her to COPD/emphysema I mostly sat cross-legged facing the grey-streaked white marble marker praying, crying, touching her name, cleaning the engraving, walking amongst her neighbors, sometimes bringing Dad along for his own face-to-face time(s)…always leaving gifts – tightly closed rosebuds from our climbing rose bush in the front of our home in Colorado or small rocks and Indian Paintbrush stems gathered from our family’s mountain property, or other tokens like ticket stubs to movies or concerts or Broncos stickers.
Most of the more traditional offerings of floral bouquets consisted of blossoms cut from my own abundant garden(s) in our home in Colorado, especially when those Bruno Purple Giant Irises were in bloom that first Spring after her passing.
Once hubby and I sold our home in Colorado and began our between homes time, we’d return from time to time and I’d visit Ma, leaving bits of where we’d been – a perfectly flattened blue hued skipping rock from the shores of Lake Superior gathered in the Upper Peninsula my first birthday away from family and our home in Colorado; a sprinkling of white sand from the White Sands National Monument outside Las Cruces, NM gathered on respite outings after particularly hard days of elder-caring hubby’s mother; a half-opened milkweed pod found along a meadow path in North Webster, IN; a handful of Leggy Lady’s tail/mane hair from the grooming brush gathered during our time on the compound in the desert; a slice of Saguaro Cactus spine from Fountain Hills, AZ…
Each of the two Februarys we had left living in our home in Colorado, I spent February 6th as a Day for visiting her grave as a sort of ritualistic honoring of her life.
I distinctly remember the first of these two bd Days.
That day in 2008 was unusually grey with a stiff wind signaling an impending snow storm. It didn’t deter me from my mission, though. I needed to share something with Ma, alone, without family members who’d be gathering the next day marking the first anniversary of her death Driving through the Fort Logan National Cemetery on my way to her gravesite, I rehearsed what I had to say and how I was going to do what I needed to do. Coming upon the curb area closest to her headstone, I parked, opened the door wide and pressed play on the car’s cd player. Walking towards my destination, I heard the beginnings of the music blasting forth from a few feet away…
“Ma, this is what I wanted to play for you the day before you passed away; I wanted you to be the first to hear it – finally finished and ready to record – I wanted you to know – to feel me there with you, to be a part of your leaving us. Me. But I was too afraid…It’s taken me this long to understand why. Somehow deep inside I thought if I could play it for you, it would work its musical magic and you’d awaken – and be back with all of us. I couldn’t face you awakening somewhere else, someplace I couldn’t go along with you.”
Please disregard the following outdated widget that I can’t delete!
I’ve been wanting to write an appropriate post for the end of 2015. Nothing has come to me. Partly due to the fact of being in the throes of a big cold/flu episode. Partly due to the fact of just not being able to face the blank page. I keep trying to get something written to post before this self-important/imposed deadline, but most of what is started is blithery and blathery…yet the urge is insistent: tie up loose ends!
Over these past three years of Thanksgivings, a tradition of sorts has evolved. It seems our son Joe’s holiday of choice is Thanksgiving. Each Thanksgiving since landing here in South Carolina after our between homes journey, he has flown in to join us at the family feasting table. This fourth year was no different. He spent 10 days with us, kind of a combination re-group after his 2.5 month vacay in the DR and holiday time with the fam. This year we three took our walk in the Swamp the Saturday after Thanksgiving as usual only at a new-to-us spot: Woods Hole. To date, that is hands down our fav Swamp-place. But this post is about last year’s Swamp walk…
The Saturday after Thanksgiving 2014, I took a walk in the swamp with my son.
My Jo-Jo at the Lynches River Swamp, SC (2014)
Turns out, he has become more of a walker since his youthful accident a few years back which requires him to keep his ankle supple and stretched. Because my hubby was in the throes of knee problems, we took our walk without him. It made for a long-overdue Mother-Son time together. Yes, we communicate via texting, phoning and e-mailing, but there’s nothing like actually spending physical time with those you are in relationship with. There may not be much spoken, but just the living, breathing and, in this case, walking presence of another produces a deep communication that can only be transmitted in such a manner.
Me finding a prime stump at the Lynches River Swamp (2014)
Getting into each other’s head and space, without pretense is very freeing. It also helps me to sort through stuff.
That November, I was blessed to be able to focus on my Musical Non-fiction project, via my Nano Rebellion. It progressed nicely and I was pleased with my output as well as organization of said output. It also served to re-connect me with myself. A self that has by circumstances of ‘place’ not been easily allowed to come out and play.
South Carolina Swamp Cypress Trees
The Monday following our Swamp walk I took Joe with me to be a part of my regular Wounded Warrior Horse Therapy volunteer time. I was excited to show him off to the gang as most of those there have family nearby 24/7 – warriors, therapists and volunteers alike. He got along with most everyone as he always seems to do wherever he goes, especially with Jason. Funny, that, since they remind me of each other. Joe’s interest in the horses wasn’t all that much, but he did like seeing his Ma doing her horse thing anyway.
What happened there was something I didn’t expect. Doing what he always does, talk music with me comparing notes on gigging and crazy audiences; drawing others into our conversation cuz you know, everyone loves music. Between talking up his own bands and the Denver music scene, somehow it came out about my being a working musician, my dad being a pro-jazzman and that that was how he was brought up – surrounded by rehearsing musicians, learning to help set up gear for Ma’s gigs/concerts… No one there knew of my status as a musician prior to moving to South Carolina. I was just one of the horse handlers. Mostly due to the fact it wasn’t something relevant to horse handling chores or in bonding with the warriors. And also due in part to my own healing process related to the last months of our between homes experience…But that day, that ordinary Monday during horse handling chores and bonding with the warriors around the picnic table after therapy sessions, my son bridged the real me with the current me.
Havin’ a great time with my guys hangin’ around…It’s a funny thing, I’ve gotten a lot of stuff done even with the extra re-focus on providing regularly scheduled and substantial meals.
I’ve found snippets of quality time between meal prep to tweek grant wording and mull over certain sections yet to be written. My days are peppered with long walks with my son, engaging in family banter, and havin’ a great time with my hubby and son hangin’ around…
About ‘find the flaw in the fabric’: Yep, it’s another blogging placeholder, hope you enjoy it.
During my computer monitor’s time off, I place lengths of fabric over it to make it seem less intrusive in my creative space. Lately, this fabric has been staring me in the face. It seems fitting as it represents shared family memories of when us 7 (Ma & Dad, me & hubby and our 3 kiddos) toodled around London, Paris, Rome, with a spattering of New York thrown in for good measure. And then it dawned on me: there’s a flaw in the content of the fabric picture…can you find it? Please let me know in the comment section below…
yeah, it’s out of focus…your phone camera is better than my old digital…but the flaw is easily seen regardless.
I am currently enjoying getting ready for our son’s 10 day Thanksgiving Holiday visit starting Monday. Very excited. He’s coming straight from his 2.5 month vacay in the Dominican Republic on his way back home to Colorado, so we’ll have even more catching up to do! I’m also frantically working on a grant that’s due the end of the year to help fund recording expenses of my ‘Swimming with Swans: the music’ …thrilled with the prospect of the assistance, but won’t know if I will be awarded anything until after the New Year. Meanwhile, I will be getting ready for our middle daughter and son-in-law’s visit with us over the Christmas Holidays and hubby’s b-day. They’ll be driving from their new digs in Michigan, so we’re hoping the weather will co-operate and allow us this treat. I love it when things get bunched up because of family gatherings…for me, this is true bliss.
As concerns my blogging frequency: I keep trying to finish several blog posts I’ve got in the queue, but just can’t seem to focus. So, please accept this little quirky, made-up-by-me game “find the flaw in the following quote” as a sort of blogging peace offering and placeholder. Continue reading
‘It will be new whether you make it new or not’ – Alice Fulton, Poetry, October 2013
I have to admit that when I first saw this quote, I didn’t fully comprehend its meaning. While the artwork makes for a beautiful visual, it didn’t aid in my understanding of the written text. But something subliminal captured the attention of my subconscious brain, prompting a silent rumination over the course of several months.
Bits and pieces of enlightenment would come to the forefront of my consciousness, until at last I had a mini-Aha! moment:
Beethoven and my first encounter with his 9th Symphony.
When I was a teenager, I dug out my parents’ old 78s from the shelves in their walk-in cedar closet. Sorting through the stacks, I recognized most of the tunes and placed them in their respective piles – Ma’s stuff, Dad’s stuff and corny stuff. My baby brother and I grew up dancing in the living room listening to all of it, including the ever present live gig-prep practicing of Dad’s – From Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci (Ma’s stuff) to Charlie Parker’s Yardbird Suite (Dad’s stuff) to Jimmy Durante’s Bill Bailey (corny stuff).
Scattered among those records were some 33s pressed on yellow-vinyl. Intrigued, I noticed they were mostly classical (by genre, not era) recordings. Beethoven’s Symphonies were recorded in a huge boxed set of 33s. I decided to listen to all of them, going from last to first.
That 9th symphony – composed in 1824 – was new to my 1971 ears.
“It will be new whether you make it new or not”
I listened to it over and over alongside some of my favorite records at the time: The White Album, and Jesus Christ Superstar.
Beethoven, the Beatles and Andrew Lloyd Webber. A motley crew, all strangely powerful and new to me.
Now, I am no Beethoven, but that mini-Aha! moment became more of a major-Aha! moment for me recently.
Since last May, sales of music from my cd, unexpected, increased significantly. Why? This recording was released in 2007. In terms of musical output, it represents old stuff. I use it now more as a demo of sorts; an example of the breadth and quality of my playing for marketing, colleague introductions, resume point of reference and so on.
There have been many projects, performances and pieces learned since then till now. Immersed as I’ve been in my Swimming with Swans: the music project, striving to put out this new material, I’d forgotten that to those who’d never heard my stuff before:
“It will be new whether I (you) make it new or not”
Below is the single off of unexpected with the most digital listens since its release in 2007, Hatikvah.
I’ve been nominated by Geralyn of Where My Feet Are to take part in the 3 days, 3 quotes challenge. This is my first ever nomination for anything ‘blog’ related, so I’m tickled pink to participate. Thank you Geralyn! The above quote was the inspiration for a friendship/housewarming quilt I created in collaboration with friends and family to celebrate moving into our new (at the time) home just spitting distance from our previous home. It now hangs on the wall beside our bed in our little rental house very far away from both homes as a warm reminder of those special times and people.
The rules of the challenge are:
1) Thank the person who nominated you.
2) Post a quote each day for 3 days.
3) Each day nominate 3 new bloggers to take part.
My nominees are: Becky Donna Deborah
(Hope you can participate but no worries if you can’t)
Yep, today’s the day: 37 years since saying our vows atop Flagstaff Mountain…and a life together as varied as those Rocky Mountains themselves –
Paths of uphill scree, steep descent, craggy gorges, magnificent vistas, timberline breath-taking peaks, peaceful breezes through the ‘Quakies’, violent storms, just as quickly turn into meadowlands for mellow musings –
Hard trails, easy climbs, high flying hopes matching mile high views, seriously focused hiking through outcroppings of tortuous beauty, learning the landscape –
Peace be to this house – Luke 10:5