Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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I heard the red-winged sing

Daffy Daffodils

Daffy Daffodils

The weather guy forecasts more cold days, maybe even some snow for the coming week.  But I’m not discouraged.  We were momentarily in the 50’sF (10 C) on Friday and again today.  We saw a tiny bit of sun.  And repeatedly I’ve heard and seen the sand hill crane screeching across the sky.

But today I heard the red-winged blackbird sing which is proof positive that it is spring regardless of the weather guy’s prediction.  On a quick tour of the yard Katie and I found even more evidence; little bits of green poking their heads cautiously out of the mulch.

Sedum hides beneath the fall leaves.

Sedum hides beneath the fall leaves.

Brave little souls aren’t they.

Poppies poke nervously toward summer.

Poppies poke nervously toward summer.

Katie and I went looking for the snowdrops we know come up behind the house, and there they were!  Fewer this year but still blooming their little hearts out for us.

It's springtime in their hearts.

It’s springtime in their hearts.

And the clincher that it must be spring?

Almost got him!

Almost got him!

Katie chased her season’s first chipmunk up the drainpipe.

Yep, we’ll probably be roasting hotdogs on the grill any day now.

Geranium greets spring.

Geranium greets spring.


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Update on Aunt V.

Aunt Vi Uncle Warren 2010 005 (Small)We stopped in at the rehab facility where husband’s Aunt is doing physical therapy after her latest fall.  She cracked the same hip she broke in 2001.  She’s ninety-seven now and too old for surgery, so they’re doing rehab and letting nature heal the hip.

She’s been at the facility for about four weeks now.  It’s brand new, clean and she has her own room, so it’s light years ahead of the place she was in a couple years ago after surgery.  She seems content here and is in less of a hurry to go home, knowing that she’ll get more therapy here than she will with a home visiting therapist a couple of times a week.  She can’t walk without help yet, so that is her main goal.

She was very spirited tonight, talkative, fully engaged.  Other than the walking thing she’s back 100%.  She is amazing.  She talked about the rehab facilities, saying they have a machine for everything, and she particularly likes riding the bike.  Really.  Riding the bike?  She says it’s just like going to the gym and working out.  Not that I can imagine Aunt V actually going to a gym and working out.  But still….amazing.

So we shall see where all this leads.  At the beginning I really didn’t think she’d be going home.  Statistically cracking a hip at 97 is not a good thing.  But once again she has proven me wrong.  You’d think I’d learn to never underestimate her.

The photo above is from a couple of years ago.  She’d kill me if I took a picture of her right now as she hasn’t been able to do her hair.   The picture below is from her 97th birthday last September.

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Cheated!

Katie here.  I just can not believe it.  Never would I think my Mama would cheat on me!  Not me!  I’m the P.R.I.N.C.E.S.S.!

But Mama and Dad went away for the weekend and they didn’t take me!  I had to go to the doggie spa!  And it gets worse!

Mama with Chris and Ricky!

Mama with Chris and Ricky!

They went behind my back and met Ricky!  Yes!  THE Ricky!  Without me!  How could they!

And now Mama keeps talking about how cute he is.  How he’s tiny.  And adorable.  And quieter then me.

Geeze.  Well let me tell you, when she came to pick me up on Sunday I told her off.  And I kept telling her off all the way home.  I used my outside voice too.  Even when we got home and I got to see my Dad I was still mad.  And I made sure they knew it.  Yes I did.

Little Ricky

Little Ricky

You know what?  They SMELLED like Ricky!  Did they think I wouldn’t figure it out?  Huh.  Parents.  What are you going to do with them.

Of course now Mom’s all like “We’ll take you with us next time Katie.”  Yea sure.  I never get to do anything fun.

But I got my revenge.  I got my Mama up on Monday morning at 5:30.  Just cause I can.  I hope they’ve learned their lesson.

Now I need a nap.  These people wear me out.

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Finding spring in Columbus

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThis past weekend I spent a delightful evening at Ohio’s Columbus  Symphony which worked in tandem with the BalletMet to celebrate spring.  I can tell you first hand it was worth the four hour drive.

The first half of the concert was filled with Debussy and Ravel.  The haunting and gentle flute solo of Debussy’s Syrink with its low soft notes was  played beautifully by a musician standing in a theater box above the main floor.  It was a perfect introduction to the night’s emotional music and a backdrop to the slow sensual dancing of two members of the ballet.

Debussy’s Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun followed immediately and continued the low but lush theme.  As the music grew you could almost see the green shoots emerging from the damp earth, you could smell the hint of rain and see the buds on the trees swell.  Soon I could imagine all sorts of birds, some walking along the shore, others soaring over head accompanied by the undertones of bull frogs among the reeds and, yes, the fawn frolicking in the afternoon sun.

The first half of the concert concluded with Ravel’s Rapsodie Espagnole.    Influenced by Spain, the first three movements felt as soft and wonderous as the preceding pieces and I was still imaging that pond full of wildlife, though sometimes the frogs were sounding  less Midwestern as the Spanish rhythms became more apparent.  The fourth movement finally provided all the expected fire of a Spanish dance and was brought to full realization by members of the ballet.

At the conclusion of the first half, just before the applause began, you could hear a collective sigh from the audience.   The symphony and the ballet had held us all spellbound.

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Igor Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring:  Pictures of Pagan Russia in Two Parts filled the second half of the performance; Part I, The Adoration of the Earth and Part II, The Sacrifice revolve around villagers dancing in celebration of spring.  The group dancing during these pieces was spectacular and engaging.  And of course I especially enjoyed the clarinet work.  Of all the pieces played that evening, this piece had the biggest sound, the most intense feeling, the fastest movement.  It was as if we were all moving through spring, and bursting out into summer on the other side.

Of course there was a long standing ovation.  As soloists, both dancers and musicians, were recognized the crowd continued to applaud.  And we were all smiling.  Because for a couple of hours we  experienced the touch of spring.   No matter that more snow was forecast, that the temperatures were frigid and the winds blowing.  For those moments inside a packed concert hall we stretched toward the sun and felt the warm breeze on our faces.  We witnessed joy.

And in the days ahead as we shovel the heavy spring snow and bundle up against cruel temperatures we can remember the soft beautiful music of green sprouts unfurling, of birds soaring overhead and fawns playing in the sun, of dancers celebrating.  We were lucky to be touched by a bit of spring this past weekend, thanks to the artists in Columbus.

And that will help us make it through these last weeks of cold.

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Worrisome culture

Last week PJ, over on her Books in Northport blog, talked about worrying, where it comes from, whether or not we can stop.  If it does any good.  At first I thought I didn’t worry that much.  And I told her that the worst things that had ever happened to our family happened suddenly with no warning and since that time I had not worried much because I didn’t think anything worse could happen.

But now I wonder.

Is it true I don’t worry much anymore?  Or do I just not recognize it as worry because it’s such a natural process after years of…well…worry?  Is what I consider good planning just another way of worrying?  Are the lists I make before a trip actually physical proof of my worry?

When I turn away from the national news, not wanting to hear more am I really just stuffing worry back down inside?  Did the great recession reactivate worry that had been lurking in the far reaches of my mind and cause me to go back to work?  Is this really my worry, or am I shouldering a cultural worry fueled by twenty-four seven news reiterating the concerns of our nation and the entire world?

Has worry become so prevalent that I don’t even recognize it as such anymore?   Or has age softened my brain to the point that I just don’t know I’m worried?  Should I worry about this?

Maybe I’m just not a worrier.  Or maybe ignorance is bliss.


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Restless barn addition

I was restless today.  I needed to be out there doing something.  Alone.  Do you ever long for an adventure just for yourself?  The sky was blue but it was cold as mid March is want to be in Michigan.   I took the camera and left with no destination in mind.

I ended up, as I usually do, in farm country.  I didn’t find a lot that inspired me enough to want to get out of the warm car.  But I found two barns for my collection.

It's huge.

It’s huge.

These are not my family’s barns.  I really do need to do that…photograph the house and barns where my mom grew up.  But these two caught my eye among the many barns I saw today.

It's bright.

It’s bright.

My adventure was not so exciting.  But it was mine.

And that’s what counts.

Old

Old


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Happy St. Patrick’s Day

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe weather people remind us that last year on March 17 we had 75 degrees (23.8 C).  This morning when I took Katie-girl out for her morning jaunt it was 22 degrees (-5.55 C).  What a difference a year makes.

The heat wave we experienced last March, no matter how much we enjoyed it, was a very bad thing.  Many of our farmers had no crop last summer, most of us lost trees and shrubs. Though I long for spring I will wait, albeit impatiently, until the appropriate time for warm breezes and flowers. Meanwhile — Happy St. Patrick’s Day to all of you!  Enjoy some Irish Soda Bread and some forced forsythia that Katie and I cut from a bush in the yard last Sunday.

It’s blooming in the house today.

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Living life big….or small?

Wonder who's going to live here?

Wonder who’s going to live here?

I commute to work every day, often driving through some very wealthy communities.  For years I’ve been watching a couple of really big houses being built even though our area was hard hit by the recession.

I’ve watched these homes go up painstakingly slowly and wondered why.  I’ve  wondered who needs so much space, wondered what all the rooms were for.

Must have lots of bedrooms.

Must have lots of bedrooms.

At the same time I’ve been reading blogs written by women living full time in RVs…some of them in very small places.  The life of living small has always intrigued me.  Many years ago I told my Mom I wanted to grow up and live in an RV full time.  She said that I’d always want some home base, and maybe that’s so, but I don’t think way back then many people were living full time in RVs; certainly it wasn’t a movement it seems to be now.

I recognize that I view life on the road with rose colored glasses and by reading  blogs I have come to realize a few of the realities of life in a fourteen foot recreational vehicle.  The dumping of tanks, the challenges of cooking, finding internet access, doing laundry.  Safety and health issues add even more levels to the discussion.

Still.  I look at the photos of miles of dessert in the front yard of a small RV, or the canyons and mountains glowing under an evening sun and my heart is tugged.

Could you do it?  Could you pare your life down to essentials…and would those essentials fit an RV life?  Or are your essentials such that you need more space?  Which would you rather live in?  The new build?  Or the little trailer in the yard?

Which provides a more interesting life?

Which provides a more interesting life?

I’m torn.  But it’s fun to dream regardless.

Lots to think about.

Lots to think about.


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So tired

Have you ever been so tired that you can’t even make it to bed?  So tired your legs and feet ache, your hands tingle and your head seems to be in a fog?

That tired?

That’s where I am right now.  A long day at work followed by a long rehearsal has me sitting here wondering how I can get myself out of the chair and off to bed.  How to make myself go to sleep.

But my mind is running circles around my physical self.  Lots to do at work.  Should probably work late tomorrow night.  But have lots of music to practice too.  And the dog needs to work on heeling before class on Saturday; she can’t do that by herself.    I need to order dahlias for next summer.  I was supposed to do that in January.  Should find the order form.  We have no groceries in the house.  What will we have for dinner tomorrow?  I think I was supposed to call my college roommate last night.  Or tonight.  Can’t remember for sure.  I promised some people at work that I’d develop a self employed training unit by the end of March.  What’s today’s date?  Good I have time.  Our next concert is the end of May.  How many weeks does that give me to practice?  I really want to run another race…but I haven’t run in two (or more…how long HAS it been) years.  I should try to run one day after work this week, see how it goes.  Wonder where my running clothes are.  Haven’t seen my running watch in a long time either.  Guess I don’t really need a watch, it’s not like I’m running fast.  The guestroom needs organizing.  Probably could find my running stuff if I did that.  And I need to look for that photo of my brother and his friend as kids, I promised to send it to them.  It might even be in the guest room closet.  Should get organized.

Yep.  Should get organized.

Or go to bed.

Tired.