porch kitty
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Mistake
the mistake was so bad that it completely unmoored me... that before my conscious mind was aware of it, I was in the throes of a complete perfect storm of weeping.
What could do this?
My first born child, Jenine, is a singer and base player in a bluegrass band in New Zealand with her husband Nathan on banjo and father-in-law Barry on guitar.
This girl/woman has always had a voice that brought me to tears. But now, in the bluegrass band, she has changed the way her voice sounds to fit the genre. Not that her ability to hit and hold a note is compromised, it just sounds different.
So today I found that she had added some youtube video to her online presence, and thinking "Wow, it's been a while since I've heard her sing, so I'll turn it up loud and start my housecleaning."
uh huh, that's what did it, remember I said she lives in New Zealand? The bloody bottom of the planet, 20,000 miles away from me...the sound of her voice so filled my house that it resulted in an unexpected shock to my well hidden reservoir of sadness that I keep in a back room of my mind with the door locked. At the first note that damn door was flung open and out came a ton of sludge and sediment from the bottom of the reservoir. My heart spasmed, and I wept uncontrollably. I miss her more than i can accurately describe. The pain is so intense that it makes my eyes water, and my breathing to become labored.
Fine, call me crazy. Whatever. It's time to stitch. One tiny stitch at a time, slowly pushing back the flood...........go back in there......go back in there.....I don't want you here.....go back in there.
nope, I can't really say anymore because I miss her more than mere words can describe.
What could do this?
My first born child, Jenine, is a singer and base player in a bluegrass band in New Zealand with her husband Nathan on banjo and father-in-law Barry on guitar.
This girl/woman has always had a voice that brought me to tears. But now, in the bluegrass band, she has changed the way her voice sounds to fit the genre. Not that her ability to hit and hold a note is compromised, it just sounds different.
So today I found that she had added some youtube video to her online presence, and thinking "Wow, it's been a while since I've heard her sing, so I'll turn it up loud and start my housecleaning."
uh huh, that's what did it, remember I said she lives in New Zealand? The bloody bottom of the planet, 20,000 miles away from me...the sound of her voice so filled my house that it resulted in an unexpected shock to my well hidden reservoir of sadness that I keep in a back room of my mind with the door locked. At the first note that damn door was flung open and out came a ton of sludge and sediment from the bottom of the reservoir. My heart spasmed, and I wept uncontrollably. I miss her more than i can accurately describe. The pain is so intense that it makes my eyes water, and my breathing to become labored.
Fine, call me crazy. Whatever. It's time to stitch. One tiny stitch at a time, slowly pushing back the flood...........go back in there......go back in there.....I don't want you here.....go back in there.
nope, I can't really say anymore because I miss her more than mere words can describe.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
no sleep
I read til' 3 am last night, and only stopped becasue Teek was completely rolled over from his pillow onto mine and I was pulling long silky cat hairs off my lips. Now, I'm feeling a bit wonky and for some reason giggley. Go figure.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Thwarted!! lol
so.................
my great and forward thinking plan to leave this gorgeous small town and move lock, stock and barrel (and approximately 100 large plastic bins) to the big city has run into a bit of a stumbling block:
the apartments where I applied will not have anything avaialble for at least 9-12 months. I'm on the waiting list. Truth? I feel like I've been tossed out the window.
but, as those who know me well, know that I'm pretty good at plan B. In fact, plan B is the outline of my life story.
question: do you really want to move to a loud, busy, very big city? Will S. would say, "Take my word for it, I've been to the big city, and this is not it."
Time now to relax, sew, think, and watch Lost tonight.
Back to the proverbial and literal drawing board.
my great and forward thinking plan to leave this gorgeous small town and move lock, stock and barrel (and approximately 100 large plastic bins) to the big city has run into a bit of a stumbling block:
the apartments where I applied will not have anything avaialble for at least 9-12 months. I'm on the waiting list. Truth? I feel like I've been tossed out the window.
but, as those who know me well, know that I'm pretty good at plan B. In fact, plan B is the outline of my life story.
question: do you really want to move to a loud, busy, very big city? Will S. would say, "Take my word for it, I've been to the big city, and this is not it."
Time now to relax, sew, think, and watch Lost tonight.
Back to the proverbial and literal drawing board.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
truth of the matter
sometimes you're the bug, and sometimes you're the windshield.
think about this................I don't think I want to be either.
I want to be the scene that sticks in your mind as you drive by............in the night, the solitary house, far back from the road, yellow light in the windows, moonglow fanning out across the landscape gilding silver the dark and solitary landscape....except the yellow light in the windows...........and when you remember the scene, you think, "Who lives in that house, so snug, safe from harm, cared for, protected?"
or look fleetingly down at the roadbed as you drive by..........and notice the tiny white flowers that are stubbornly growing at the edge of the hot asphalt, and the green of the grass, and the gold of the field, and think, "Who protects this land, who nurtures the flowers, and waters the grass?"
I wish to be the landscape bathed in the silvery glow of the Wolf Moon...I want to submerge in the yellow light in the window...I want to be the nurtured flower, and grass and field.
for some there is no yellow light in the window, for some no flowers, no grass; only the moonlight, leading us into the dark land. We shimmer, we disappear, and appear, in and out of light we walk, ever walking, no warm windows, no green grass, no white flowers.
think about this................I don't think I want to be either.
I want to be the scene that sticks in your mind as you drive by............in the night, the solitary house, far back from the road, yellow light in the windows, moonglow fanning out across the landscape gilding silver the dark and solitary landscape....except the yellow light in the windows...........and when you remember the scene, you think, "Who lives in that house, so snug, safe from harm, cared for, protected?"
or look fleetingly down at the roadbed as you drive by..........and notice the tiny white flowers that are stubbornly growing at the edge of the hot asphalt, and the green of the grass, and the gold of the field, and think, "Who protects this land, who nurtures the flowers, and waters the grass?"
I wish to be the landscape bathed in the silvery glow of the Wolf Moon...I want to submerge in the yellow light in the window...I want to be the nurtured flower, and grass and field.
for some there is no yellow light in the window, for some no flowers, no grass; only the moonlight, leading us into the dark land. We shimmer, we disappear, and appear, in and out of light we walk, ever walking, no warm windows, no green grass, no white flowers.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Be a mensch.
Anger is indeed a condition within which the tongue works faster than the mind.
This is the reason why I don't ever listen to vitriolic diatribes where religion and/or politics are the unifying subject.
This being said, it is a rare person that can expound intelligently on either subject. This is the person with whom which I will debate. You see, for me there is no compromise or capitulation. I don't take a statement at face value.......ever. Just because 2,009 years ago, give or take, there was a Jewish boy who drove his parents and teachers crazy because he also didn't take things at face value, and was also young enough, literate, astute and charismatic enough to the point of being able to lead those who chose to follow him without question, does not compel me on any level to accept the writings of other literate, Jewish boys who saw a cool way to get attention, as the be all end all, gospel.
This, to me, does not constitute a good reason to get all self righteous because the elected President of the United States, who definitely marches to the beat of his own drum, chooses to honor all Americans instead of only those that choose to follow without question one convincing Jewish boy in the throes of teenage rebellion. It truly boggles the mind. And please keep in mind that due to an accident of birth I was born to two Jewish parents. So, my upbringing has always centered on some very basic Jewish tenets: Always give to charity. If you have too much on your table give the rest to a hungry person. Study; get an education, always treat everyone as you would wish to be treated, and always question when you are presented with a person or idea that professes to be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
This is the reason why I don't ever listen to vitriolic diatribes where religion and/or politics are the unifying subject.
This being said, it is a rare person that can expound intelligently on either subject. This is the person with whom which I will debate. You see, for me there is no compromise or capitulation. I don't take a statement at face value.......ever. Just because 2,009 years ago, give or take, there was a Jewish boy who drove his parents and teachers crazy because he also didn't take things at face value, and was also young enough, literate, astute and charismatic enough to the point of being able to lead those who chose to follow him without question, does not compel me on any level to accept the writings of other literate, Jewish boys who saw a cool way to get attention, as the be all end all, gospel.
This, to me, does not constitute a good reason to get all self righteous because the elected President of the United States, who definitely marches to the beat of his own drum, chooses to honor all Americans instead of only those that choose to follow without question one convincing Jewish boy in the throes of teenage rebellion. It truly boggles the mind. And please keep in mind that due to an accident of birth I was born to two Jewish parents. So, my upbringing has always centered on some very basic Jewish tenets: Always give to charity. If you have too much on your table give the rest to a hungry person. Study; get an education, always treat everyone as you would wish to be treated, and always question when you are presented with a person or idea that professes to be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
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