I was also lazy as hell, and would rather read books or ride my bike instead of practicing scales.
I am determined to give it 15 minutes a day, and have practiced at least that daily for 10 days in a row now. I’ve mastered maybe the first two strings, and am getting a solid grip on 3-6. I’ve got a few songs I can play off my old rehearsal book like Kumbaya and Amazing Grace.
What am I trying to accomplish? Maybe like learn to skate back in 1998, just the basics and see where that takes me. There’s certainly no Adult Nationals for basic guitar. But like figure skating, just keep learning and exercising the old noodle to find a new skill.
So maybe I will suck at two sports and a musical instrument. But I will keep on trying. Hey, I learned how to make apple pie this year after all…
It was on my to-do list to make cloth bags this holiday break, until Cara came a-calling with gifts from her mom.
Mom Pam is a crafter and once she’s done crafting, needs a recipient for her creations. I was gifted with a dozen colorful storage bags, which I immediately put to use.
Pam’s a gift, and to be counted as one of her girls is an honor.
I became a huge fan of author Michael Perry after rereading his book Truck, followed by Coop and Population: 485. After that, I hit Amazon and bought the rest of his catalog. He is the "author in residence" at the Little House on the River.
As mentioned in the blog earlier this year, he's refreshingly accessible to the point I've had to actively NOT like or retweet him so as not to appear to be a groupie or a stalker. Whoa down on the quotes there, mama.
Still, I've had the pleasure of interacting with him directly via social media, and I was invited to a web lecture by the Wisconsin Public Library to hear him read from one of his books and talk about his creative process during the pandemic. Given the opportunity to ask questions via chat, he answered one of my questions (don't remember) and he sent me a tweet thanking me for coming and participating.
Fangirled OUT.
Long story short, I got scammed on Facebook Marketplace by an ad for dirt cheap deck furniture on closeout. No money was lost, just that feeling of frustration not getting what you wanted.
Feeling like I needed to be vindicated, I found a pillow-cut London topaz ring for $13 on Etsy. "We'll see," I thought as I placed my order. It's as amazing as I expected and is a cheerful bit of summer sky on my finger on a dull as dishwater night.
My mom sold the childhood home over the summer, so for the first time in 56 years, another family will be celebrating Christmas at the yellow house on Chester.
I’m satisfied with my last meal at the house. We were in the midst of cleaning one terribly hot June day when Candi and John ran to pick up chicken and burgers. In the meantime, some of the kids we grew up with caught wind we were there and stopped by to hang out. I hadn’t seen April, Randy, and Jason in so long!
So there we all were - mom, my sisters, our husbands and kids, and the old neighborhood kids - hanging out on the back deck, eating chicken and talking about old times. It was a nice goodbye.
This year saw not one but two amazing things from Macca. First was the song Find My Way from his album McCartney III, with the video reimagining him as a 20-something pop star navigating a psychedelic hotel. Strange twist, Paul was actually Beck!
Second was the long-awaited three part documentary Get Back, which is what the original Let it Be should have been. Credit to him for his work ethic and dedication to The Beatles, with a special shout out to Ringo for his patience and loyalty. He believed in the band and wanted to keep it together. Kudos to him also for recognizing he was an ass and didn’t give George enough room to shine; I wish they could have figured that out - in 1969!
And much love to the Beatle wives appearing in the film - there’s a little bit of Yoko, Linda, and Maureen in all of us. I’ve watched the documentary three times (admittedly more viewings of the rooftop concert), and hadn’t caught a glimpse of Patti. But without Olivia, George’s second wife, this wouldn’t have come to fruition, so thanks to her for this and Living in the Material World.
I see a marathon of all things Beatle in my future this holiday break.
It's not often these days when Dave and I can be just the two of us. So we took a week of vacation in August to do just that, and spend the week together while Will stayed up all hours of the night eating pizza and playing video games with his cousin.
We stayed at the cottage and did some minor repairs like installing a new faucet, patching the row boat, and painting the kitchen chairs and coffee table.
Then came the quest to have that bacon burger up north, get some cherries and corn on the cob in the UP. We decided to explore the last corner of the state where we haven't been and spend the night on Drummond Island.
Fun fact: you can OWN your own island up there, for less than you expect. Building a castle and calling yourself Lord and Lady should be a given.
We have our eye on our 25th wedding anniversary celebration, but it's unclear what we should do. I'm lucky enough that we celebrate each other on a routine basis as it is.
Again with the mixed bag. As noted earlier this year, mentally with skating I've been a mess this year.
But you know what? I did it anyway.
I made it to Adult Nationals and while I didn’t place well, I received the second-best presentation marks in my event and a level 2 for my spiral sequence. And huge props for being one of the best dressed skaters. And I got to share the moment with dear friend Sandra. And I was able to celebrate adult skater mom Arlene’s birthday.
And, and, and! This is a flip in attitude from June.
Speaking of June, I also competed at Masters Games, which was part of GRO. Because of judging right up to my event and covid shutting down the locker rooms, I was not well costumed or made up. But I had an enthusiastic audience made up of judges on break and parents from other clubs cheering me on. It was my first USFSA national gold medal (the others have either been ISI gold or silver-pewter).
My next big event is the annual Christmas show, and I will be doing Queen’s A Winter’s Tale. I choreographed it myself, rom the music to choosing the elements. It’s a fresh, easy program with room to stretch and embrace doing what I love to do.
I just found out Karen, a childhood friend of mine, died last year in September 2020.
I'm sad to realize she's been gone that long without knowing. Admittedly, I don't think I've seen her in at least 20 years and we weren't in touch on social media; when reviewing her facebook page, I was surprised to note none of us from grade school were in touch with her.
It is unclear how or why she passed, but that's none of my business; I lost the right to know her private details long ago. But what I did discover is the story of a woman who was strong in her battle with addiction, surrounding herself in prayer and positivity. People were there for her. The photos I found were of someone who loved sunshine and smiles, rock music and flowers, and most of all, her daughters and grand daughters.
She was loved.
I can offer this as way of a memorial that is far too late:
Wills has played baseball with the same group of kids for the last six years. One of the boys who struggled with a growth spurt didn’t get a hit until late into the season, one of those squibbers that died on the infield and the batter legs out to first from sheer determination.
It counts, but it's weak.
Into the playoffs, and this kid is still giving it 100%.
And then it happens.
He makes solid contact and the ball soars, flying free in the early Saturday morning mist, towards the deepest part of the field, over the centerfielder's head, and smacks into the chain link fence.
Confusion on the base path quickly turns into an aggressive trek towards home. It's a two-run double. Coffee, water, and gatorade is spilled as the collective fans cheer for the no-doubter. That was solid, Gio.
"Can I sail through the changing ocean tides, can I handle the seasons of my life?"
