Symphony of Talent

Several years old but says it all!

My husband and I attended a concert Tuesday evening.  We heard Mozart, an incredible Lady Gaga medley, a medley of famous ballets, some hip hop, some classic, some rock.

The auditorium was full and the music was good. Two of our granddaughters were playing violins. Neither one of them performed all the songs. There were different levels of excellence but they were all very good. Believe me, I have 3 children, over 40 nieces and nephews and 7 grandchildren. I have sat through many concerts, that while filled with sweet faces and precious children, would have been more appropriate for Guantanamo then for proud parents, grandparents and aunties!

The last really good concert we attended for one of our grandchildren was years ago when our grandson played in a drum corp and really rocked the auditorium. In one song, he and the other corp musicians came out wearing coveralls and carrying shiny new garbage cans. Their drumsticks were in their pockets and they played sticks and garbage can lids. Excellent!

Last year we attended a hip-hop jazz concert. One of our granddaughters performed a couple of rocking dance routines. This year she won several awards in Drama.

This year we saw another granddaughter perform a couple of "way cool" dance routines in West Coast Story and even had a line or two. She sings, dances, plays the violin and is going to be in Kids Unlimited this summer.

The other violinist that played last night is also a gymnast extraordinaire. Last weekend she showed me how she can do pushups while in a handstand, yes, she did!

Her little sister is also an up-and-coming gymnast, she rocks a great cartwheel.

Two other granddaughters are outstanding athletes. The oldest granddaughter is only a sophomore and she has already been recruited for the Junior Varsity softball team. She excels in softball and soccer! Word is that she has every chance of being granted a college scholarship for her athletic prowess.

Her little sister is also a champion soccer and softball player. I saw her in a softball game in April and she made a double play from center field, knocking out second base and a quick throw to first.  "The crowd went wild!"  She also batted in two runners during the 4th inning.  She and her big sister can get into a soccer game and run, which seems to me, non-stop, for an hour! Who does that?

Am I a proud grandma? You bet your tush I am!  Not only are my grandchildren totally talented, they are kind, loving, intelligent (oh, I didn't even get to the awards for scholastic achievements or honor society, but the day has only so many hours).

The only thing better than watching your own children grow bigger and better than yourself is to live long enough to see their children leave those over-achievers in the dust!

Live Like You Mean It

"I don't deny that there should be priests to remind men that they will one day die. I only say it is necessary to have another kind of priests, called poets, to remind men that they are not dead yet."
G. K. Chesterton

"Society is one vast conspiracy for carving one into the kind of statue it likes, and then placing it in the most convenient niche it has."
Randolph Bourne (the other Bourne)

We people are often on a fast track to being what society or our micro-culture want us to be. We have dreams when we are young about what we "want to be" when we grow up. We are driven by our passion to do or be or effect...something. Then our culture reaches its bony fingers in and points at us every time we stand out. Some of us slink back to the shadows and some, though not enough of us, take another step forward and another and another.

I wanted to be a doctor since I was about 8 or 9 years old. I wanted to research genetics to help prevent birth disorders. Most importantly, I also wanted to be a mother, more than anything in the world, I wanted to have a dozen babies, my own little tribe and I wanted to teach them that they were beautiful.(thank goodness my body drew the line at three). I wanted them to grow up honoring themselves, believing with every breath in their bodies that they were loved and capable and beautiful. I wanted them to grow up being able to make their own decisions, not the choices that I would make, but the choices that were best for them. I wanted them not to be afraid of making decisions that went against the current.

I believe that my children are not waiting for "someday" to live but live now.

I believe that my children have not let society mold them and then crawled into the little box reserved for them to blend and not stand out. I believe my beautiful children live like they mean it. They are impacting this world and changing it for the good.

So on this Mother's Day, I want to put the palms of my hands together in front of my chest and bow to God or All There Is and say "Thank You" from the deepest recesses of my heart and soul for the honor of being a mother.

It is, indeed, a Happy Mother's Day.

 

Some Things Just Don't Go Together.

Tandoori Chicken....yum.
Spinach......yum.
Pizza.....yum.
Naan....yum.

Put it all together...not so yum.

Wish I had...uh....something else.

Mother's Day

Mother's Day, hmm, not sure how I feel about that day at this moment.

Just read a couple of Mother's Day blogs from some pretty self-centered, self-involved, narcissistic mothers who have written little manifestos about why they deserve gifts from Dad and kids, and not just any gift but some pretty "good" stuff.

Several of the blogs (please, God, tell me they were written by Teen Moms) describe how much said "mothers" has given up, one mother used the word "sacrificed" to raise "your" kids, so she deserves more than just recognition, she deserves some "stuff", "good stuff"!

I'm a mom, I have a daughter who is a mom, two daughter-in-laws who are moms, and, of course, I have a mom.  I can't imagine any of them thinking that their husbands better make this coming Sunday pretty damn special because of the "sacrifices" they have made by being a mom.

I can't say it wouldn't be wonderful if the kids all got together and send me to Kauai for a week or two, yeah, that would be nice. But I have to tell you that being a mother is the gift. Being blessed with children, to help shape, to teach, to inspire, to gift them unconditional love and help them to see their own strengths and courage and gifts, that is truly a gift of boundless worth.

To be the one who run's shotgun, takes point, reconnoiters, stands by when consequences for poor choices are hard, has their backs and lets them know that she loves them is the biggest blessing. Those quiet moments in the kitchen when a child shares a secret or makes a joke or tells you about something that happened during the day, those are the gifts. those are moments that say "I appreciate you."

If you are tapping your foot, arms folded across your chest, counting the minutes until Sunday morning so that you can to be treated like royalty, gifts, bows from husband and kids as they kneel on the floor repeating,  "We're not worthy!" then shame on you!

If you are expecting there not to be a big "Yahoo" for your "sacrifices" so that you can pout and stomp around and whine about how unappreciated you are, you probably are unappreciated because self-entitled narcissists are really not appreciated, except when you leave the house for a Starbucks or a workout at the gym. If that is you, do your family a favor and take a book with you to Starbucks, sprout them a little peace for Mother's Day!

If all you get is a phone call or a hug, yay for you. If you get mad at your hubby or your kids for not making it a-day-at-mommy-disneyland, you need to look over your priorities. Maybe you shouldn't have had kids, maybe you shouldn't have married someone with kids, but you are in it, DEAL!

Kids, give your mom a hug or call for Mother's Day. Even Moms and Step-Moms like to feel appreciated.

Dawn

Thank you, God, that Dawn is not my friend. Crybaby, whiny backstabber.

I bet her husband is so happy she is gone for 39 days!

Support Group ~ Membership Drive Press Release

Most of the television shows I watch, I pre-record. Then I can fast forward through the commercials.
I've seen enough commercials to last a a lifetime, but there are times I watch "from the hip"!  At those occasions I've noticed hundreds of attorneys who are jumping on the recall bandwagons. They are informing us that we or someone we know are victims and we can make some really big bucks by hiring their firm to get that money for us.

I don't see any fine print at the bottom of the screen that the lawyers and courts and the IRS will get the bulk of the money if there is a judgement in your favor nor, in even finer print, does it state that after depositions, subpoenas, court dates and extensions that you will most likely end up on antidepressants and anti-anxiety medications. The good news is that, eventually, you may be able to file additional lawsuits against the pharmacy, pharmacist and physician for prescribing and providing you the medications mentioned above.

After some serious consideration I have decided to form a support group for many of these victims of our medical system and some of the by-products of our misguided culture.

Now, there must be thousands of victims, so the membership requirements of this support group will have to be pretty specific, my living room can only hold about 15 to 20 people.

Criteria for membership will be restricted to those poor souls who have purchased Sketchers Shape-ups which caused ankle sprains or knee injuries which led to painful replacement surgery of their Depuy Hip Replacement which, on malfunction, have caused painful shifting of their vaginal mesh (no pelvic slings, please) which again leads to painful replacement surgery or painful sex which led to the chronic use of a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor (SSRI) such as Celexa which has caused pulmonary hypertension or agitation and anxiety, confusion and memory problems, dizziness, coordination problems or lethargy.

We will have to deny membership if you meet all the criteria above but your use of the SSRI or continued contact with attorneys and court systems has additionally caused chronic irritability or aggressive or violent behavior, as the quarters of our meeting space are quite close. SSRI's have been known to cause nausea, depression or suicidal tendencies.  Those affected with those symptoms will not be admitted either as depression, vomit and inanimate bodies are not conducive to a pleasant and productive group meeting.

If you meet the criteria please feel free to contact your nearest mental health facility. They will have the contact information for our support group.

If you don't meet the criteria but would like to donate to this vital program contact me via email for Pay-Pal information.

My Gas Cooktop

When we remodeled the kitchen, I went looking for a gas range top that sat high above the counter. The higher cook tops give you more room underneath the counter so that you can have drawers instead of wasted space.

So we designed the cabinets with two drawers directly under the cook top; one for cooking utensils (spatulas, spoons, tongs) and one drawer for hot pads and mittens.  Everything right where you need it.

I loved my range top but somewhere along the way I think my little Kenmore has decided to blow me up or at the very least, give me a heart attack.

One day, after cleaning it and running the knobs through the dishwasher, a loud snap came from the kitchen. When I went to investigate there was smoke coming from the back burner.  I was home with two of my granddaughters, my husband was at a professional photographers meeting. The girls and I could smell gas and smoke and heard a couple of little snap, crackle, pops!

I instructed the girls to go to the back of the house, furthest away from the kitchen. I called the fire department and explained what was happening and they said they would come check it out.

When my husband drove up to the house there was a fire truck at the street with red lights flashing. Poor guy! He is an ex-RFD fireman so he came in and "the guys" stood in the kitchen talking while the girls and I huddled under pillows and quilts in the bedroom. They had unplugged the stove 15 minutes earlier and were just shooting the breeze while I'm in the back muttering "Our Fathers" and "Hail Marys"!

Last July, while cleaning the cook top, the electronic ignition started clicking, some snap, crackle and pop; a little plume of smoke and I went running.  I peeked from around the corner in the hall and carefully sniffed the air. No gas, no hissing, no more Rice-Krispies s-c-p's, just the continuous sound of the ignition...click, click, click.

Three months later, my I-can-fix-it-myself-cheaper husband (love you, baby) and several parts exchanged because they were the same part # but didn't fit, I finally called Sears to come out and it cost $70 to fix. In the meantime, we probably spent $500 eating fast food because it was summer in Redding and it is absolutely absurd to use your oven in the extreme heat.

Today, while cleaning my beautiful, frickin' stove, click, click, click.  I threw open the cabinets under the drawers, I couldn't find the plug, it was behind the drawers. I started to pull out the drawers to get to plug. Side note: the thought of being blown up really gets the bladder feeling at maximum capacity.

Drawers down (the cabinet's, not mine), I pulled the plug and the clicking stopped. My dilemma?
Do I just call Sears and not tell Frank until the stove is repaired? Do I call the RPD and tell them I am being threatened by my gas range? Do I call my therapist and see if she will up my meds?

One thing for sure, I am so done cleaning my stove...I think it likes Frank more than me anyway!

Last Sunday In April

summer winter scene by melameena

Pool almost ready for swimming. Fruit growing on the trees. The lawn has some crunch to it here and there due to heat and north wind. Time to set the automatic sprinklers again.

Daffodils, lilacs, hyacinths, tulips and crocus already faded. Lavender is in full bloom.  The gardener in me is aching to plant some colorful annuals and play in the dirt.

It's time to hang the shade cloth over the pergola and drape the sheers along the perimeter of said pergola.

Time for sunscreen and hats, washing tons of towels every day and actually washing my car instead of letting the rain clean it.

Sleeping with windows open, I hear frogs and crickets all night long. Of course, we also hear parties in the park, drummers circle on Sunday evenings and jazz on Saturday afternoons.

Bye Winter! Hello Summer!  Nice visiting with you for a day or two Spring, I look forward to your 8 hours of glory next year.

Clutter

Clutter sucks!

I can't remember the year, but maybe close to 14 years ago, our home was in the pathway of a fire storm. One of our labs was sleeping in our bedroom and was whining at the door. I woke up and smelled smoke. It was about 6 a.m.  We ran outside and the yard was hazy with smoke.  Embers were flying through the air so my husband jumped on our shake roof and started wetting it down.

We called two friends who were in the volunteer fire department in the little town we lived in for info. They said they were just heading out and to prepare to evacuate as the fire had just jumped the highway north of us.

Our house had about 3300 square feet of floor space and we had lived there about 15 years.  We also had a 3 car carport out back with an attached pool room/storage room.  We had lots of stuff. Lots!
We packed up pets (4 labs and 5 cats), musical instruments (except piano) and family photos, camera equipment and some of my favorite books.  Ready to go, we wandered around the house looking at all the STUFF left that I was not willing to pack, ready to let it be destroyed in the blaze headed our way.

The fire came to our little road from three different directions. All the men had stayed and as the fire came they helped each other save our homes.

After the fire, my husband and I had a long discussion about our collection of things-we-like-but-wouldn't-save-in-case-of-evacuation! I wondered why I dust so much crap I am unwilling to rescue.  We soon sold the house, down-sized to 1970 sq feet and rid ourselves of lots and lots of stuff.

We have lived here for about 10 years.  Though the house looks clean and neat (mostly) it is still out of order due to circumstances this last month.  I decided to dedicate this weekend to putting things back in order and cleaning house.  As I was sipping my Dutch Bros Kicker, I scanned the surroundings to make a little To Do list in my head.

Holy Crap! We've done it again!  We have collected a ton of stuff, again, lots of it is not where it belongs because there is no place for it to belong! Today's cleaning will be accompanied by a box (garage sale items) and garbage bag.  

My attitude: Would I pack you to save you from a fire?  Would someone else pack you to save you from a fire?  Depending on answer, I will find a place for it to "belong' or the item will go to box or bag.

P.S. My darling husband, I know you can't stand a counter, ledge or table that is clear and clutter free!  Come with me to see my therapist so we can work this out. I know for a fact that seeing the top of a table or ledge is not fatal!

Survivor

If I was in the Favorite's alliance I would have told Reynolds, Malcolm and Whats-his-name that I would flip if they swore not to vote me out until all the Favorites were gone.

I would beg them just so I wouldn't have to go hang out with Phillip!

No food, sleep with rats and smell like the boys locker room OR share lodging with The Specialist?
Hands down: the starving, varmint infested stench wins.

Stealth-R-Us is probably Judgement-R-Us back at the jury quarters and that gives me the heebie-jeebies!

Malcolm should have kept on digging...silly boy.

I'd like to see Cochran, Brenda and NOT Dawn make it to the end but Cochran takes the prize.

Chewing Through The Leash

Dear Readers,

The posts on my blog read like a bona fide roller coaster, up, down, really up, really down, up...well, you get it.

I assure you my therapist and physician have assured me, I am not bipolar nor do I have Borderline Personality Disorder. So, I guess I am just your typical post-menopausal woman!

Good Tuesday

It has been a good day, all-in-all.

Woke up, as usual, about 4 a.m. Said some prayers, did some meditation and got on the computer to write a little. Back in bed by 6 for a little snooze.

An hour with my therapist. She reassured me that I am very grounded and doing "the work"!

Upon return to home I received an email referring me to a site discussing natural cycles.  It states that it is unnatural for human beings to sleep a block of 8 hours. Our more natural pattern is to sleep for 4 hours, wake up in the middle of night and read, converse with partner, take a walk or commune with nature. Then we return to sleep for 3 or 4 hours. The article advises that the post-lunch slump we often feel is another part of the natural human cycle, which  Mediterranean Europeans and South American countries honor with the closing of businesses and a siesta.

The Siesta -Van Gogh

It is nice to know that I am not an insomniac but a natural type of gal.  I wanted to join with Carol King and Aretha to sing to the article, "You make me feel, you make me feel, you make me feel like a natural woman...a natural woman."

Visited with Mom and Dad for a couple of hours. I took Rex and he was so excited to see them both.  He shared lots of love! The conversation was excellent. Mom is doing really well. Cognitive abilities and comprehension back 100% as far as I can tell.  My mom slayed that stroke!

Saw a house for sale around the corner from them that I fell in love with, would be nice to be closer to them and it had river frontage.

Got home and Cole had cleaned house for me. Puppies jumped up excited to see me.

Nice breeze flowing through the house on this beautiful spring day.

Can you say, "Over the hump!"