2 day pass

this weekend was full in a good way...just the right way..for us all.
coach was at a cabin in the woods with the hunters in his family.
he didn't get a deer, but that is ok with more than just miss bit.
i think he goes more for the camaraderie than the venison.
t. bone's weekend was filled with lots of basketball: 1 practice, 2 games and a little hoops with me-
a game on our home court after our lunch date.
date as in just the two of us.
miss bit attended a birthday party that included a very cool drum circle, went to a bon fire at the neighbor's and to see a high school performance of peter pan with me.
it was a good show and both me and my girl were impressed by these young talents.
when i asked her if she wants to try out for her school's spring musical, she told me that she has here sights on the part of annie.
she's shooting for the star, but would be happy being one of the orphans just the same.
i soaked up the sun during my walk saturday.
it was so unseasonably warm that i was uncomfortably overdressed, and yet it was lovely to be out sweating.
i shared wine and stories with one friend friday and another the next.
on saturday, i made my favorite pasta (whole wheat linguine and asparagus topped with a poached egg, parmesan and cracked pepper) and served it alongside a ceasar salad with my homemade dressing.
it was so good that coach and i reheated it for sunday dinner too.
only this time i added some crumbled bacon and it was the only way to make the best better.
we ended the weekend with buzz and woody.
i enjoyed toy story 3 just as much the second time as the first.
i'm headed up to bed right behind the kids tonight because i cannot keep my eyes open.

Memories and Music

During yesterday morning's commute, I listened to a cd I mixed for our trip to Power's Lake four long short years ago.  It was the last vacation we spent with my Mom so the memories of that week are bitterly sweet.  I almost turned the radio on out of fear that going back there would be a bad way to start the day.  Music is powerful like that.  A song can take me back years or even decades in such sucker punching or soul resounding ways.

The first song was Earth, Wind and Fire's September.  Do you remember the 21st night of September?  It was the star because it was my Mom's signature song.  Her birthday was the 21st day of September.  I smiled as I remembered her 50th birthday.  She hosted a dinner at her favorite French restaurant.  Friends from all five of her decades and family were seated around the table to celebrate her, and she was literally glowing.  Our hearts were ringing...In the key that our souls were singing...As we danced in the night.  There was no dancing, but it was a great one.  No one could throw a party like my Mom.  Two nights later Coach, my brother and I threw her a surprise 50th.  The same cast of characters attended and then some, but her party is the one I best remember.  No one deserved two parties for the same birthday more than my Mom.  We gave her a signed print by an artist she loved.  It hangs in my foyer now, and I think of her whenever I see it.  I'm pretty sure that gift surprised her as much as the encore party.  My thoughts are with you...holding hands with your heart to see you.

During Cold Play's Yellow,  I got serious shivers when I sang along to, look at the stars...look how they shine for you...and everything you do even though I was looking at the sun basking on the lake making it appear to be liquid gold.  I swam across...I jumped across for you.  I'll never forget seeing this song live.  Watching Chris Martin on stage was a moving experience and not just because he is a ball of energy...but because he is so passionate about his music and performing that you cannot help but know it is a privilege to be in the audience, to witness it, to be a part of it.

While listening to Billy Joel's You're My Home, I remembered a card I made Coach depicting these very lyrics when we first moved in together after college.  I was excited and scared.  Well I never had a place that I could call my very own...that's all right my love cuz you're my home.  Our one bedroom apartment was $450 a month.  My closet was in the front hall and nowhere near big enough.  When the front door was open, you could see right into the bathroom, but still it had it's charm.  The living room featured lots of French windows that opened up to let in fresh air and an abundance of light, and two couches that were always occupied by our friends on the weekends.  Two ugly couches that looked like Impressionist masterpieces gone horribly wrong, but they were in our budget and brand new.  Our pad was a block from the park we loved to run in and less a mile from my Mom.  Well I'll never be a stranger and I'll never be alone...wherever we're together that's my home.

Steely Dan's Hey Nineteen put me on a futon in my brother's eatside apartment on a fall night.  Sweet things from Boston so young and willing.  My baby brother just moved back from Madison and knew nothing yet of his imminent move to Boston.  Hey Nineteen That's 'Retha Franklin She don't remember the Queen of Soul...She thinks I'm crazy but I'm just growing old. Or at least growing up.  We drank cocktails and wine not beer out of mismatched bar glasses and played a raucous game of Balderdash not quarters or chandeliers.  It was so warm and cozy to have him home and living  in the same city again.

Love is the game at least for most of the questions in my heart...why are we here? and where do we go? and why are we so hard?  It's the most gorgeous summer night for a concert and I'm enjoying it with Coach and of course, Jack Johnson.  I have no questions tonight because I am lost in the lyrics, the music, the breeze and the stars.  And all of these moments just might find their way into my dreams tonight but I know that they'll be gone when the morning light sings or brings new things for tomorrow night you see that they'll be gone too, too many things I have to do.  Nothing to do right now, but sing and sway.  See those moments, they aren't gone.  I remember them like they were yesterday and I can hear and feel them today.  I'll never forget Paula Fuga taking the stage alongside Jack to sing Country Road and strum her ukulele.  What's meant to be will always be though I control my destiny.  I have been connected to that line from the first time I heard it and it was a gift to hear it live.

Just before I made my way downtown, I heard his horns and then Stevie Wonder started to sing, music is a world within itself with a language we all understand...with an equal opportunity for all to sing, dance and clap their hands.  Sir Duke makes me smile.  From my vantage point on the bridge, I could almost see the stage where I heard him sing this song live almost 4 1/2 years ago.  It was a sweaty July night.  I was with my Mom and my frister singing, dancing and clapping our hands.  It was the last concert I attended with my Mom. It feels like just yesterday.  Can't you feel it all over...come on let's feel it all over people...you van feel it all over...everybody - all over people.

Do you have any songs that move you with memories?

Grateful Friday

Today I give thanks for...

The way I have noticed the stars super sparkling in the chilly November night skies and 

loving the dark even more because of it.

Warm apple crisp with cold vanilla ice cream for dessert on the night of the first snow (flurries).

Our resident milk thief.  His weapon: the paw!  His bounty: every last drop.

Playing fair.  Miss Bit tried to pay T. Bone $15 for the Japanese soda he brought home from hibachi the other night after she drank her's.  He refused on account of the fact that the transaction wasn't fair.

Arm & Hammer laundry soap.  It smells happy and makes me feel good about doing laundry!

I was able to cross most of the items off my to do list the other day.  Of course, I've added as many as I've accomplished.

This chicken stew. ..colorfully healthy, delicious and easy.  Heat up 1 T EVOO in dutch oven.  Saute a shallot (or onion), a clove or 2 of crushed garlic, and 2-3 slices of bacon.  Remove and drain.  Add 1 T EVOO and  3-4 cups cubed potatoes to pan.  (I used fingerling and just halved them) Saute 5 minutes and then add cubed chicken (3-4 breasts).  Cook until potatoes are tender and chicken is golden (about 5 minutes).  Then add chopped veggies of choice.  I added 2 zucchini, 1 red pepper, 1 jalapeno and 2 cups of corn kernels off cob. Saute about 5 more minutes.  Then add garlic mixture, cover and cook at 350 for 20 minutes.  Salt, pepper and serve.

Sibling rivalry love.  See those smiles...feel the love.

Clouds.  I was paying lots of attention to the clouds overhead while I walked the other day.  The ripples were aligned in perfect waves: row upon row.  It was a sight.  Just then Stegner's protagonist, Susan, refers to the battlefields of clouds above her and I was tickled, exactly..how did you know?  That was a text to world connection.

How excited the kids get to receive packages in the mail.  Yes, big Christmas bundles already!

Coach is enjoying a north wood's weekend with his dad and brothers.  Miss Bit is keeping his side of the bed   warm and snuggly.

A just because gift from a friend today.  I never knew I needed a bang buster until she presented me with one!!

I have plans with one friend tonight and another tomorrow.

Next week is a short holiday week.

My Truisms

Gretchen Rubin talks about many things in the Happiness Project that got my interested attention.  Her concept of true rules is one of them.  True rules consist of words of wisdom, practical tidbits and inner speak we pick up along the way from parents, mentors, peers and such.  Because we all come from different places and are traveling to our unique destinations, our rules are just that: our rules.  Every one's will be custom acquired and fit.  I prefer to think of them as truisms because some of the codes of conduct that filter through my mind every day are ways to do (rules) but more are ways to be (isms). This is my short list:

It is what it is.  It's a dandy I attribute to my Mom who was a wise woman.  Early in life she learned to live in and for the moment and also to be strong in the face of adversity.  She would say this not with a defeatist tone, but rather with an air of acknowledgement and attack ala what are we gonna do about it.

When life feels like too much, smile, nod and wear beige.  We all have bad days.  And bad days don't discriminate.  Sometimes that out of sorts feeling sets in on a day you don't have the luxury of checking out of.  So show up with a smile, but then blend in.  Chances are you'll feel better after for acting the way you don't feel and for keeping your commitment.

You cannot change what you do not acknowledge.  You know who says this?  Dr. Phil.  It's one of those things he's said that makes me think he actually is a licensed professional and not just an Oprah-made star.  It's so true though.  As soon as you admit that something is lacking or wrong in your relationships, work, self, the world, you can go about making a change, and not a second sooner.

You have to shut your eyes in order to see.  This is the one that reminds me to sleep on it.  Perspective and clarity are often revealed when I take step back or check out, and I'm usually glad I chose not to act in the heat of the moment.  Every thing looks different in new light.

We cannot become what we want to be by remaining what we are.  No, we have to step out of our comfort zones to grow.  We have to take chances and calculated risks to reap rewards.  I have not been faithfully adhering to this one.

Stars cannot shine without darkness.  Life is a series of necessary contradictions:  light/dark, joy/sorrow, birth/death, hot/cold, peace/turmoil.  The sadness I have felt heightens the joy I feel.  Yesterday's tears enhance today's laughter.  The human experience exists on this spectrum.  We have to take and experience the good in relationship to the bad.

Sometimes you can be so happy, you are sad.  This is one I whisper to myself when I am experiencing the apex of my joy.  It's at this point that I start to sense the shift in the continuum and I feel the fleetingness of what is as what was.

Just do it! Thanks Nike.

Everyday make your bed.  At the end of the day, there is nothing better than crawling between crisp, smooth sheets.

Always send Thank you notes to acknowledge gifts and kind acts.  This is such a lost art, but it is not lost on me and it will not be lost on my kids.

Get up at almost the same time every day.  It makes Monday so much easier, and Saturday and Sunday so much longer.

Leave your shoes at the door.  Dirty floors are my nemesis and dirty feet the bane of my existence.

Always say please and thank you with sincerity in your home, at your place of work, at school, in public.  These words are not just for children either. 

Always finish what you start.  I used to pride myself on this one.  Lately, not so much.  It's troubling me to the point that I have been avoiding starting things out of fear I won't finish them.

On Blogging

I shouldn't be here right now.  I have a list of things to do.  It goes like this:

• clean
• consignment 
• walk
• shower
• library
• bake brownies
• make soup
• update vacation journal (PCB and Door County)
• edit fall pictures
• take Miss Bit to tennis

Nowhere on this lengthy list that I'm to accomplish between 9 a.m. and 3:30 p.m. does it say blog, and yet here I am.  I'm here despite the fur balls the size of tumbleweeds crowding the corners of every room, despite the fact that this overcast day is my favorite kind for bundling up and logging miles and Stegner's Angle of Repose is just getting good and drawing me in, despite the fact that I have to feed my family and I want to preserve our memories.  Despite all of the compelling reasons not to be here, I am...here.  I'm going with it too because I have not been showing up here often enough for my liking lately.  Instead I've been in my head giving a lot of thought to why I blog.  Why?  I know why I write, but why do I write here?

It became apparent to me in stepping back that there is no one reason, goal, or motivation.  There are many and they are complex and obviously always changing.  Some days I blog to share.  Some days I blog so I don't have to share out there.  Other days I blog to celebrate, record,  get something off my chest, or to work through it.  I blog when the world feels so light and when life seems too heavy.  I blog when I'm happy and also when I'm sad.  I don't blog to make money or change the world...I blog to change my life.  And blogging has changed my life, which is why it may not be on today's list, yet I'm still here.

Sometimes I forget other people are reading.  Then one of a few friends that check in here will comment to me in person about something I've written and I remember there is an audience...albeit a small and quiet one.  I had a scare recently.  I linked to my blog on Instagram, and then one by one my son's friends found me there and started liking my photos.  I worried that they would make their way to My Musings.  It made me feel exposed in a way I was uncomfortable with so I removed the link and prayed it wasn't too late.  I don't want an influx of tween traffic here even though they are fine young men.  I'm just starting to feel the chi of what I deem to be kindred soul traffic here.  You see I have seen and heard the scrutiny that comes with a following.  I have witnessed how beautiful voices get muted and then lost as bloggers try to please everyone and offend no one.  Pretty soon they are saying nothing.

And then I have to wonder..what is the point in writing at all?

  

A Little Shoe Story

Me and my girl share many loves.  We don't love shopping, but we do love shoes and boots.  Last week I ordered a couple pairs of Uggs online.  Yes, I'm late to the party trend, but better late than never because you see they are comfortable and warm (and also ridiculously expensive).  So I got a big box of furry lined boots in different styles and sizes last week, and I'm pretty sure Miss Bit was more excited than I was.  In fact, she assumed one for me one for her. Not sure who she though the third was for.  She slipped them all on and smiled big when the smallest size pretty much fit her.  I hated to tell her that I wasn't even sure yet if I wanted to spend that kind of money on a pair of boots for feet that aren't still growing  myself.  She was OK with it when I told her she can have mine someday.  I refrained from telling her that people have told me they last forever and I probably won't be outgrowing them.

When I picked her up from school today, she noticed right away that I was wearing my new boots for the first time.  She told me they looked G-R-E-A-T, and then she seriously inquired if they still fit.  I love this girl so much I'd  almost give her the boots off my feet no matter the cost.  Something tells me she knows that!

On My Mind Monday

And that, to me, is the meaning of Thanksgiving...Nothing lasts; everything changes.  People die, and marriages dissolve, and friendships fade, and families fall apart, whether or not we appreciate them; whether or not we give thanks every waking moment or one night of the year.  For the act of returning to the same table,  to the same people and the same dishes - to the same traditions - can blind you to life's transience.  It can lull you into believing that some things, at least, stay the same.  And if that's what you want to believe, then what have you got to be grateful for?  None of our Thanksgivings are ever coming back; we've lost them.  They're gone.  And so this year...give thanks - not for everything we have, but for everything, instead, that we have lost.

******************************************

Michael Chabon

bon appetit

I read this in the November issue the other day and it has stayed with me...weighed heavy on my mind and heart.  No, I won't be traveling to some mystical hunting lodge to feast next week as Chabon did, I'll be going over the river and through the woods to sit at the same table I take my place at most years, but what and whom I have lost is evident and ever present.  Because what I eat, drink and do on this day is very much the same from year to year, doesn't mean that I don't see clearly and feel profoundly life's transience.  Quite the opposite actually.  Impermanence shadows me every day.  I know the depth of precariousness and terseness of what we have here now.  I will give thanks both for what I have and for what I have lost next Thursday as I do every day I am here to breathe and feel.  The traditions - Nanny's zucchini, Grandpa's sausage corn chowder, Grandma J's sweet potatoes, Rosie's cranberry fluff, round the table toasts and family games - are what tie me to them even though many of them are no longer taking their place at this table.