noted

music.

when you have the chance to make some, you should.

last week my kitchen became a recording studio.

that happens in different ways

with different people

now and again.

i always think that food made

in the same kitchen where music was created

tastes somehow better.

(note: even the smallest studio needs a name.

my new one is ‘the dwelling’.)

so, day one in the dwelling: a little mentoring of my littlest man.IMG_9064urbsatday two in the dwelling: sound check for levels on my ‘instrument’.IMG_9069urbsatday three in the dwelling: relocation to a more permanent spot,

since eating is a regular occurrence in its original location,

which includes the ambiance of discoball lighting.

IMG_9074urbday four in the dwelling: whatever wonderful thing comes next…

‘dwell’ taken from 28:12 of job.

a few of my favorite things (today)

so much to do today.

focused all morning on the inbox and to-do bin

(yes, i said ‘bin’.  a list is no longer cutting it).

despite the busy, these three things made me smile.

thought you might need an ‘end of a monday’ smile, too.

first, the seed beads i bought

from bead biz at the new england fiber fest.

such cheery colors (and the matte finish on the czech glass beads rocks).IMG_7503 satnext, my dad playing photographer

in the backyard trying to get all six of us

to smile and keep our eyes open at the same time.

not an easy task i tell ya.for trey for turkey projectnote: my 8 yr old informed me, after the fact, that he intentionally

grinned wider and stuck his chin up high

to see what it would look like.

what’s a mama to do?

lastly, this super fun homegrown video.

it is the best lyric video i think i’ve ever seen.

i wouldn’t usually be a fan of such a pop flavored tune.

maybe my 15 year old’s taste

in music

is affecting me.

it’s just so stinkin’ catchy though,

that it’s stuck in my head and i just don’t even care,

because i’m happy,

clap along if you feel like a room without a roof…

 ‘wider’ taken from 11:7-9 of job.

as fast as i choose

i don’t often feel

rushed or hurried by outside forces.

i’m pretty easy going in my days and at ease in my nights.

but on days like today, the rate of speed at which my head

is churning out new ideas

threatens

to topple me into something like stress

or nearer to chaos than i want to choose to live.

IMG_4903conttime for ice cream, a breath of prayer and a little strumming

in my prototype mountain colors glove

to set me back on course.

‘breath’ taken from 1:17 of 2nd corinthians.

road trip: day one

we were

planning to leave

wednesday morning,

but decide

to head out early

attempting

to outrun yet another

incoming snow.

with a fresh 3 inches

on the ground

we face ‘helga’ due south

and hit the gas.

hard.

the following ‘soundtrack of the day’ brought to you by lucy, and good ol’ charlie brown:

[lucy]
and way up there the little stars and planets
make the rain that falls in showers
and when it’s cold and winter is upon us
the snow comes up! just like the flowers!

[cb]
now lucy, i know that’s wrong.
snow does not come up, it comes down.

[lucy]
after it comes up the wind blows it around so
it looks like it’s coming down but actually
it comes up out of the ground like grass!
it comes up charlie brown!
snow comes up!

[cb]
oh good grief!

‘ground’ taken from 3:19 in genesis.

‘little known facts’ from the musical ‘you’re a good man, charlie brown’.

sts on the road: final rnds of the new ‘tamarisk’ in the photo. in test knitting now.

insistence

sharply.  suddenly.  it has turned bitterly cold.  this reminds me of the friends i made working at the rehab because it was just this kind of cold that drove them indoors and into often temporary sobriety of one form or another.

addiction is not so much a leering leviathan to be slain as it is daily skirmishes that wear you down until the pit you’ve crawled out of looks better than anything else you can think of at that moment or at any moment that you can currently remember.

i miss brooksie, whose death left me reeling, physically lacking his voice beside me on the box truck’s bench seat as i sang alone to the radio.  work without him was always much too quiet.

i tied the monkey to a string around my neck,

that’s the only way i knew to get him off of my back.

he and that little tin drum beating on and on and always

                                                                     rat-a-tat tat     rat-a-tat tat

imagine that

excepting very late at night

my favorite Christmas song is not exactly a Christmas song at all.

i first heard it sitting in the back of a old parrot green datsun pick-up with a weathered blanket rolled up for a pillow behind my back, watching the stars.  while, like an impromptu bass line, the rhythmic crashing of the waves on the sand sang along.

as did the boy (he whistled along actually)
sitting next to the girl i was that night

who became a man

who became my husband

and who then became the father of my children.  now how cool is that?

 

‘mr. tanner’ can be found on “harry chapin’s greatest hits” or here sung live.