Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.

Category Archives: Uncategorized


by 20 Comments

A walk in the woods honoring our friend Norwood

Katie here.  I want to tell you about a very special dog named Norwood.  Every morning he and his mom went out for a run or a walk, and they posted the weather report from their hometown and a picture of Norwood being…well…Norwood.  No matter what kind of mood my mama was in, Norwood always made her feel good.  He had lots of special skills and one of them was making people smile.

Norwood makes a snow angel.

Norwood makes a snow angel.

My mama and lots of other people called him Dude for short because he was such a goofy guy.  And fun.  And very very happy.

Tragically he had to go to the Rainbow Bridge last week, way before his time.  It wasn’t anything anyone expected, least of all his mom, and now people all over the world are all weepy eyed.  Mom cried all day at work on Thursday; she just told people she had a cold, cause how can you explain crying over a dog you’ve never met?  But that’s Dude for you, brightening everybody’s life every morning and leaving a big gaping hole now that he’s gone.

Norwood and his mom ran trails in the woods.  In the winter his mom wore snowshoes and the Dude wore his boots.  He loved loved loved running in the woods.  So after he had to go his mom asked us all to take a walk in the woods to honor Norwood.

He loved to run with his mom Debi.

He loved to run with his mom Debi.

And yesterday that’s just what my mama and I did.  It was a beautiful warm sunny winter day with blue skies and white snow.  Norwood would have loved it.  We walked along a packed trail between the towering trees  listening to the silence.  And we thought of Dude and how he’d be running back and forth ahead of us, just grinning like everything.   I didn’t once pull any of my princess tricks, we walked in respectful silence most of the time, and just enjoyed being together.  I even did my special running recall in honor of the Dude.  And because my mama had treats.

I can fly!

Here I come mama!

Mama says we’re glad we went out to the woods to think about Norwood.  He will always be a very special dog and we aren’t ever going to forget him.   We won’t forget his goofy grin, and his multi colored boots or his florescent collar.  We won’t forget how he loved to go on adventures and how much he loved his mom.  And we won’t ever forget how lucky we were to know him just a little, here on the internet.  We know we didn’t know him as well as some people that got to meet him in person, and certainly not as well as Debi, his mom, but still weren’t we lucky to enjoy him while we could.  My mama’s heart is breaking for Norwood’s mom and all his special friends.  I know when it’s my time to go to the bridge he’ll be one of the first dogs I’ll look for, cause he’s just so much fun.

Until then I will think of the Dude every time my mama and I take a walk in the woods.  Right now I gotta go comfort my mama.  She’s getting all weepy eyed again.  The Dude can do that to a mama.  Anyway, don’t worry about your mom Norwood, everybody’s sending her lots of hugs.  We’ll look out for her, just like you did.  You run free Dude.

Man, we’re going to miss you.

Portrait of the Dude.

Portrait of the Dude.

PS:  The pictures of Norwood were taken by his mom, Debi Horvath.


by 14 Comments

WordPress photo challenge: Orange

Oddly enough this week’s photo challenge is ‘orange.’  It’s ironic, because I used orange as a unifying color in a photo challenge a couple of weeks ago.  So of course I can’t use my photo of oranges from that post.  And that would be too obvious anyway.  So I spent Saturday and a bit of Sunday scouting out orange things that represent life here in Michigan in March.  When there aren’t any orange things blooming.

 

Once I started looking for orange I found it everywhere.  From my toast in the morning, to the bittersweet vine on a bush down the street, to the orange snow fencing everywhere, the gumballs at the mall, the lights on the side of a restaurant, the Detroit Tiger English D, the New Balance shoe in a shop window, to the ever present orange barrels, orange is everywhere!  And the orange car?  I followed it for a few miles before it turned into a Wall-mart parking lot.  Then I circled the lot until the driver went inside.  Couldn’t resist showing you an orange car, right?  Cars + Michigan.  Can’t beat that.

 

You can see other interpretations of orange here, here and here.  And I bet, if you look around, you’ve got a little bit of orange somewhere near you!  It’s nice to look for some color during these last long days of winter.  Show us what you found!


by 14 Comments

Kids say it like it is

This box has no calories.

This box has no calories.

Heading out of the grocery store this morning I had my $4 ready for the girl scout cookie table waiting at the entry.  It’s that season when moms and little girls wait by the chilly front doors near a table filled with overpriced snacks.  Sometimes I plan my shopping for times I think there won’t be kids with big hopeful eyes selling stuff, but this morning I was on a mission.

It was early, and there was only one very young girl standing uncertainly in front of the table.  She wouldn’t look at me and seemed shy, so I thought I’d engage her.  As her mom smiled from behind the table I asked her:

“How much for one box of thin mints?”

The girl looked up, frowned and turned her back to me.  I only realized she was pointing when she said.

“It says on the sign.”

And then she sighed.

I gave my four dollars to the embarrassed mom and scurried out of the store with my cookies.

Old people need the obvious pointed out to them.

Yes we do.

Yum

Yum

 

 


by 11 Comments

WordPress photo challenge: Reward

If you look at the latest Wordless Wednesdays on this blog you’ll understand why this is a reward.

IMG_1200

You can see other interpretations of ‘reward’ at the original challenge.  Or stop by here, here, here and here.

And don’t miss this one.  It’s the kind of place I’d use as a reward myself.

What’s a reward for you?  Have you treated yourself lately?

It’s time.


by 12 Comments

Lip synching

10471116_10205115932311673_1095195631600389762_nYou’re all waiting to hear about Saturday’s concert aren’t you?  I imagine you couldn’t sleep for wanting to know.

Our band was the first one performing Saturday morning, and we had to be there by 8.  Since I live more than an hour away I booked myself into a hotel down the street from the venue so I could have a relaxing morning.  And so I could sleep in without having to deal with a particular sheltie girl who shall remain nameless.  But I didn’t sleep well.  The room was hot and eventually I just turned the heater off completely.  I was worried about sleeping through the two alarms I had set.  I had a long and detailed dream about not being able to find the high school room where we leave our cases and coats, and being late, and running through school hallways.  I worried that the car wouldn’t start in the morning, having sat outside in below zero temperatures all night.  Maybe I’d spill something on my black dress clothes at breakfast.  Maybe I’d fall down the hotel stairs or slip on the ice in the parking lot.  Maybe I’d forget my instrument or lose the keys to the car.

None of that happened.

Everything went smoothly according to my detailed plan.  Up at 6:30, downstairs for breakfast at 7:00 (wearing my jeans and a sweatshirt just in case), load the car up at 7:45, drive to venue, arrive at 7:48.  Meet the rest of the band members in appointed room, get escorted to our warmup room.  Things were good.  The director was relaxed.  So were we.  Even the thought of being critiqued by the composer of our most difficult piece didn’t bother us any more.  We had prepared.  We were the best that we could be.  She ran us through the first piece of music, reminding us to watch her at a certain spot, not to slow down at another.  Things were normal.

And then it happened.

My clarinet ceased to make any noise.  No matter how I blew nothing happened.  As the band continued to play I switched reeds.  Nothing.  I went to the third reed.  Nothing.  I went back to the first, checked pads, springs, nothing seemed out of order.  They were playing the difficult UFO Concerto now, and they never sounded better.  I was frantically trying to blow any note.  Eventually I got a few notes out, but only those that were the most open, meaning the fewest fingers closing the fewest keys.   And by then it was time to move to the stage.

I basically lip synched the entire concert.  I could play at best 7 notes.  I fingered along, breathed in all the right places and when one of those 7 notes came along I played enthusiastically.  Thank goodness there was nothing in the program that required a third clarinet solo!  And even though I wasn’t really playing, as I counted out the rests and played what I could, fingering the rest, I have to say I really enjoyed myself.  The band was focused, as we always are at this event.  Things we had worked on came together.  The music soared just the way it was meant to.

And our world renown judge?  Johan de Meij was a gentleman and obviously a talented artist with a vision.  We played two of his pieces at the concert, and he went through a good portion of each with us, adjusting nuances of single notes, phrasing, instrumentation.  We played.  He directed, head tilted as he concentrated.  He waved us to a stop and explained the meaning behind the sound,  why a chord was structured the way it was, what it must convey.  We played again, he nodded.  At one point he flung out his hands and, grinning like a little boy, said “This is just so much fun!”

I agree Mr. de Meij.  It was so much fun.  Thank you for making our day.  On the drive home I popped last  year’s festival CD into the radio and turned it up.  Loud.   He told us that wherever he goes, as he teaches students he begs them not to stop playing when they get out of school.  Join a community band, he says, they are everywhere.  Keep playing.  Don’t put that instrument away in the attic.    He’s right.  I am so blessed to still have music in my life.

The drive home took my by the town I grew up and I considered driving through it just for nostalgia.   I thought of my folks and all the band concerts they’d been to, all the support they gave us all to follow whatever moved us.  I wished they had been in the audience to see this one.

And then I thought… odds are good that they were.

At home, tired and happy I went out to get the mail.  And there, among the bills and statements was a handwritten envelope with a return address and name I recognized as old friends of my parents.   I worried that they were giving me news that one or the other was gone; I hadn’t heard from this couple since my parents died in 2004.  I hurried inside and opened the letter.  Out fell two photographs of my parents, taken in 1954, one year after they were married.  They are sitting together, holding hands and smiling big happy grins.

There they were.  On a day that I wished for them to be near, they fell out of an envelope sent to me by people I had forgotten all about.  Just because she ran across the photos, she said, and thought I’d like to have them.  So she sent them to me on a day I was missing them.

Love works in mysterious ways doesn’t it.

IMG_1145

Yes.  Yes it does. This morning my clarinet plays perfectly.  Guess Mom worked on it over night.

Love you guys.

 

 

 


by 10 Comments

Amy, I wish I’d met you

11009088_10205100625969024_489318963090749460_nAmy.  Twenty-seven, pretty, interesting, artistic, and by the looks of pictures on her Facebook page and blog, always smiling.  I hear she was getting married in May.   I never met her, never read her blog or asked her to friend me on Facebook.   She was the friend and fellow blogger of a blogger friend of mine.  Social media certainly makes the world smaller, and yesterday evening when my friend posted a short piece about Amy leaving a hole in her heart, about how she would be missing her friend, I wondered, so I clicked the link to Amy’s blog. There was a recent post and nothing seemed amiss.  That made me wonder more so I started searching for information on Amy and her city.  I found a short, one paragraph article about a six vehicle pileup with one fatality.  A female.

And I knew.

Today, almost exactly 24 hours after that crash I read an article that included parts of the initial police report.  All six vehicles were being merged into the left lane by State Police because of an accident up ahead.  Amy was driving third in line behind two SUVs.  There was a pickup behind her and behind that vehicle were two semi trucks.  Amy and the two vehicles ahead of her had moved over to the left lane and slowed.  The pickup behind her was in the process of moving over and had slowed.  The semi behind the pickup tried to move over but couldn’t slow down fast enough, and hit the pickup, spinning it into the median.  The semi behind the semi involved in the first crash hit that first semi, then slammed into Amy’s car, spinning it, then rammed into it again, on the driver’s side door, bounced off of her car, and hit each of the two vehicles ahead of Amy, then ran up an embankment and hit the bridge.

How fast do you think that second semi had to have been going to hit the first semi, Amy’s car twice, two other cars and still make it up the embankment to strike the cement bridge?  It was snowing yesterday afternoon, terrible weather they say.  I’m sure the truck drivers will use the weather card while explaining the  reason they couldn’t control their vehicles.  But these are professional drivers.  We expect more from them.  They, of all drivers, should know that bad weather requires everyone, especially big heavy trucks, to slow down.  If that second truck had been going slower he might have run into the back of the first semi, but would he have hit Amy twice?

Amy, just like my father who was killed in a crash almost identical, absent the snow, did nothing wrong.  She successfully slowed and merged.  She had nowhere to go.  She was killed because someone else made a mistake.  And it’s a mistake that is happening across this country every single day.  Four thousand people die in crashes with commercial trucks every year.  Yesterday Amy was one of them.

I thought about Amy all day today.  And as I drove home into a sky going purple with evening I thought about her family, her boyfriend, the wedding that won’t be, the future that ended so abruptly, the art she won’t make, the children she won’t have.  I didn’t realize I was crying for her until I tasted my tears.

I became involved with the Truck Safety Coalition when my dad was killed.  We offer comfort and information to families who have suffered the unthinkable.  I know right now Amy’s family is reeling with grief.  Her friends are in shock.  Her fiance is in a black hole.  I know this is not the time they want to think about what they should be doing to preserve evidence, what they will need to fight for justice for Amy.  But they need to know.   I wish I could hold them all in a big hug and gently help them through these first horrible days, weeks, months.  Years.

I might never get to do that.  But I do want them to know that when I’m working on these issues, when I’m in DC talking to elected officials and agencies and reporters I’ll be holding Amy in my heart right next to my dad.  Amy has given me one more reason not to give up.

Amy.  I wish I had met you.  But you can be sure that I’m not going to forget you.  The work we do to advance safety on our roads is done to honor Amy and my dad, and all the others killed and injured in crashes with commercial trucks.  We are their voices and we are not going away.

Rest in peace Amy.  The world is a little less special without you.

I can see that.  Even though I never met you.


by 15 Comments

Weekend concert

Most of you know that I play in a local community band.  Each year in February we attend a community band festival in a town about an hour away.  Community bands come from all over to perform for 3 adjudicators who give us feedback on our work.  For those of you that have been in a high school band, it’s like going to band festival.  Without the sight reading part thank goodness!  It’s exciting and fun and stressful all rolled into one music filled day.

And this Saturday is the day.  We’ve been working really hard on the UFO Concerto by Johan de Meij.  The piece is in 5 movements and we’re doing the first two.  You can listen to some of it here.  The first movement runs, on this particular recording, from 00.0 until 5 minutes and 9 seconds.  It’s really beautiful.  But what I really want you to hear is the second movement…starting at 5 minutes and 9 seconds and going until 10 minutes and 49 seconds.  It’s crazy and it’s taken awhile to grow on me.  But I found myself humming this at work on Tuesday.

Believe it or not.

What makes this Saturday even more stressful, other than this being a very difficult piece to play, is that the composer is one of the adjudicators!  And to top it all off, he’s the one that will be meeting with us after our performance to give us his perspective on how well we played.  Yes indeed.  I have never played anything knowing the composer was in the audience, much less knowing he’s going to critique us after!

So what I need from you guys is a whole lot of strong good luck, musical vibes headed over to Okemos Michigan at 9:00 a.m. this Saturday.   We’ve worked hard, but a little extra luck can’t hurt!

I’ll let you know how it goes.

 


by 19 Comments

WordPress photo challenge: Rule of Thirds

Some of you have heard about the rule of thirds; the placement within a composed photo of the point of interest near the intersection of lines drawn dissecting the  entire image into thirds.  It’s one way of adding interest to a photo.    Katie the sheltie-girl and I went out to see what we could find that was fun and interesting.  And though I took plenty of photos of her sitting dutifully in her lower right corner, the photo I like best out of all of them was this, a hurriedly composed shot, with only one chance to get it before he moved out of sight.

 

Going for a walk

Going for a walk

It was the man’s orange hat that caught my eye just as I was putting Katie back in the car.  I rushed her back out into the parking lot and grabbed the shot.  This is not a classic rule of thirds image as the rest of the image surrounding the subject is not empty.   If I’d had more time I’d have raised the camera a bit and had less snow, (you know, about a third of the photograph) in the foreground.    But I only had one split second, and I like the result.

If you go to the original challenge post you’ll see an absolutely beautiful redbud leaf and the description of doing the rule of thirds while also focusing on creating a bokeh, that interesting and beautifully blurred background.  I messed around at home trying for something similar.  This is as close as I got before the afternoon sun sank and my kitchen reverted to uninspiring.

Orange afternoon light.

Orange afternoon light.

This also is not classic.  The background isn’t blurry enough and the subject is certainly taking up more than a third of the foreground.  I’ll be trying this technique again. But still.  I like the color and the warmth and the light.

The fun about these photo challenges is that they make me think a little bit about how to answer creatively before I run out to find the actual image.  I like the adventure of  finding new photos, trying new things, and the challenge both gets me out of the house with the camera (and sometimes the dog) and makes me see the world around me in a slightly different way.   Today while driving I was looking for something that divided into thirds.  This morning at the grocery store I was looking for something interesting for a an indoor bokeh.

Without the photo challenge I’d probably have spent the afternoon doing laundry, and how fun is that?  For more fun rule of thirds images go here, here, here and here.

And this one too.

Katie’s kind of miffed that she’s not the star of this post.  But she’ll get her turn.

She always does.

Never ignore a princess.

Never ignore a princess.