35 posts tagged “love”

I've just returned back home from visiting the place where I grew up:

A small town where most of the cars still have six-digit license plate numbers but is big enough to be infected with the current epidemic of never using the car's signals. 

A place where I discover I still have buttons, and that others can decide which ones to push and do so, regardless of how I feel about it. 

A town where unwanted and specifically denied headstones pop up out of cemetery ground, bearing your name, while you are still alive.

It's so nice to be back here at home. 

My husband and I have just finished re-doing our laundry room.  I'll admit that Smike did most of the work, but I did all of the research.  I've been cheerfully annoying during the whole process, muttering things to him like "Stewart Copeland never had to hang Debbie Travis wallpaper" and "I bet Hugh Laurie doesn't have a German Shepherd as a supervisor".  These types of things don't go over too well after several nights of staying up until 3am getting stuff done.  And yet I persist.  Sure, he elbowed me in the temple and I dropped a piece of the blinds on his head.  But my game is off... I know you have to start this stuff right off the bat, while the late nights are still making you punchy.

You wouldn't believe how the previous owners of this place left it (and I'm serious) so I won't bother describing it to you.  Keep in mind that we had planned on putting down a new laundry room floor when we had first moved in, but didn't get the keys to the house until 7pm on moving day and once the dudes put the stuff in there it was too late.  So we've lived with this completely shitty room for two years now and didn't notice it too much.  The walls were in bad shape and painting wasn't going to work so we put up some Debbie Travis textured-and-paintable wallpaper (the previous owners had put up wallpaper, too, except that it was only attached at the top and at the bottom).

Bearing all of this in mind, here's me towards the end of the last night, doing the flooring:

A work in progress:

Finished laundry room:

The shock of having a nice room in there now is terrific.  I'm loving on this room now and even Smike is impressed.  Now on to the next project: clearing out 9 years of girl's clothes.  Luckily the basement is nice and cool! :)

I cannot tell you what it is like to watch, helpless, as a neighbour family's entire lives go -- literally -- up in flames.

I tried to help as much as I could, but there was nothing I could do except stand back and offer what assistance I was able to.  I took photos because I knew I'd have to bring my own kids past this horror and that they'd have heard and seen things from the school, and be frightened.  They were.  My youngest had been crying and most of the kids thought it was their house on fire.  So I brought my camera with me and showed them one of the photos, telling them that they were safe and to be prepared for what they were going to see.  They were relieved but still very tense, and when we got to the house I showed them how the firemen (and women!) were keeping track of who was where, how they put on their oxygen tanks, how they checked for hot spots, and why they were pulling down bricks and poking things with long poles.  There were hundreds of people out watching and I met quite a few people, including one fireman's wife (who totally understands my thing for guys in uniform) named Beth.  She answered a lot of my own questions about what they were doing, and we talked about my fears that someone would get killed going in there at night (they have a night patrol person to stay).

There was at least one person in the house, and all got out safely. They all lost everything.  It's such a tragedy, but they still have each other... as unkind as it may seem to say it, the house and treasured things they lost are nothing compared to what it would be like to lose one of their loved ones.

The whole community has tried to come together and help out, I know they have family and many friends in the area who are doing all they can for them as well.  If you have any suggestions of what I can do (my neighbours have made me the contact person for them, because I am friends with the gal who took them in while all this was happening), please let me know.

And while I've got your ear, please say a little thank you for the rescue workers and volunteers who put their lives in danger for us.  They are true heroes, no two ways about it.  Hug your family and thank whatever powers that be that they are safe.

Duchess: Mum, can you find me that book that's written in Haiku and is about spring?
Me: Uhhh... we don't even have one of those.
Duchess: Oh.

I am almost sure she expected me to write that book for her, tonight.

Remember way back in December, when I was getting rather romantic (although still confused) about the appearance of ladybugs in the middle of winter?  I got a ton of letters telling me that ladybugs are a symbol of "good luck", which made me happy, even without having any major incidences to prove those old wives right.

So I began to find ladybug items, like magnets and enameled pendants for necklaces.  Queen of Fractal Beauty sent me a note that she wanted to send me a ladybugg'd quilted postcard, which thrilled me, and then she said she loved all the songs I'd posted (skim through here) and that is always a big heart-filler right there.  When I mentioned this to one of my friends she told me it was like getting "your own green flag of sorts!" (double thrilling to even THINK of!) and I've gotta say that personal flag or not, I am quite happy to keep writing music if people like the songs enough send me quilts.

Anyway, last week I'd been walking around the house and singing "Bed's Too Big" and "Forever Live and Die" in a very melancholy voice.  My husband had been in Vegas, so I was doing the single-parent thing, and I got a lot done but it was boring and a bit lonely not having my best bud in the house.  Especially after seeing him beat the crap out of that drum kit the night before he left!  He was awesome!  So I decided to get out and tour around in the car, and I hit the post office on the way back.

QoFB's absolutely gorgeous quilted postcard was waiting for me.

Isn't it awesome?  :)  How cool is THIS!  Note the wee ladybug on the front, and the adorable doodle of herself on the back!  I LOVE this!  And the forget-me-not flowers in the front fabric have a special place in my heart :)  I wish I had photos to show you of the big grin I wore for the next three days!  I can assure you there were no more melancholy songs since then.

Thank you so much, B. :)  What an awesome artist you are.  You did incredible work and I'm so glad you enjoyed the songs.  I've put the wee quilt in the place of honour in my office (right beside my book!) so that I can see it every day.  xo ~M.

In a few hours, I'm off to see my husband Mike and his band at a gig in the Big City.  I'm so excited.  A whole bunch of us are going to be at the show... I hope they can fit us all in the venue.  Tonight is also Mitch's birthday, a landmark one, and he's also singing tonight.  If they play one of the songs I recorded, I'm going to jump up on stage and do the backup vocals.  Don't tell him or he'll appoint a security guard to me.  Ha!

My husband is a drummer.  A tall, blond, gangly, talented drummer.  How much do you want to bet I'm going to get pointed at tonight?  :)

Pictures after the show... and SOOO much more news and photos to share.

Hope you all have a great Saturday night!

I'm still not over my botched plans to go see Stewart Copeland this week, especially after a sneak peak at the set list.  My husband has been consoling me with jokes about having to sit through the movie again (we own the DVD) and by reminding me that the next tour starts in May... and I'm a flag co-bearer for the first night.  But I still have the tickets, if anyone is interested... they're in the centre section, third row.

Yeah, I know.  Great frickin' seats.  Happy birthday to me.

Anyway, I'm still checking out Notion and now I'm giving Sibelius the once-over.  Any feedback, comments, and opinions on either are still very much welcomed.  I have read that Andy Summers uses Sibelius, as well as some other really nifty people, and I'm looking forward to giving it a shot.  I'm checking over both of the websites right now but Smike has already gone ahead and gotten the Sibelius for me. 

The problem is that I'm a lunkhead when it comes to changing software.  I have so many versions of Photoshop that I've lost probably half of my drive space to the programs themselves.  But I keep going back to my earlier version, the one with all of my filters loaded into it, and I can't give up the latest version because I need to be able to open client files. 

The way I write a song is complicated and painstaking.  I don't use a keyboard or other musical instrument; I write what's in my head and the first time I hear it is when it's played through my computer.  I enter each note on a staff, make chords and add the fun notation stuff, and then work work work on it until everything is perfect (or sometimes good enough.).  It takes days.  I'm very stubborn.  I could probably cut back that time by using a keyboard instead of 'trying out' notes -- if you ever watched Copeland's The Rythmatist movie you'd have seen the easier way in action.  Dude carries around a mini-keyboard with him.  Why didn't I think of that?

Stubborn plus lunkhead equals luddite.  I am the kind of person who loves immediate gratification, so this painstaking bullshit really isn't up my alley but I do it anyway.  Why am I like this?  What is so wrong with change?  I think it's the idea that staring at something new, having to take large chunks of time to learn it without knowing if it will be what I want to use, is so overwhelming.  If I can't sit down and make music with it right away, I don't want to deal with it.  The stuff I'm using now, I know HOW to use it.  I can sit down and I know what I'm doing.  I want things to be easy... frustration is not a virtue.

I guess my birthday wish is to change that luddite equation and see the software changes as more of a "getting out of a rut" thing.  Considering I already have the software and will be using it probably by the end of the day, that would be a wise thing to do.

God, I hate getting older.

So I went to a psychic on Saturday.

That was the first time I'd ever gone to one.  I remember when I was little, about the same age as my oldest is now, my mother went to a psychic.  She taped the session because some of the things she was told were to come up later on in life, and for awhile she played the tape every year or so to see if something had been predicted.  I didn't record mine, but I went home with a page of stuff she'd scribbled down for me.  Most interestingly, the stuff that I learned the most from are things she said and don't appear on the page.

I'm not even sure I believe in psychics.  She said from my numerology that I was one.  She also said that I am a "master of intellect"... now, you don't go around telling people like me things like that, that's just playing with fire.  I guess it was more an aura reading than a psychic reading, which I kind of liked, because it's interesting to see what other people find I'm sending their way.  She had some good insight on many things... things that I don't think apply to everyone, but certainly did to me... and I have taken those things and ruminated on them.  Totally worth the two hours it took to wait and go through the whole reading.

The stuff at the end, though.  The stuff at the end.  She told me things about my friend Shylagh that really startled me.  She also told me to put the chair back into my younger daughter's room because my Grampy watches over my girls.  How she knew that, I have no idea.  I had to take a long walk afterwards, in the sunshine and ice cold fresh air, just to rid myself of the choking feeling in my throat.  It wasn't like the other things she said would happen weren't amazing enough... that just to believe they could happen was powerful on its own... but to hear these names again, I was almost unable to control my emotions.

I don't know if I believed in psychics before I went, or if I believe in them now.  Wouldn't it be so easy to just believe that the people you love still remember and miss you, even after they've passed?  Wouldn't it be incredible to put in the work towards making the foretold future happen... and it actually happens? 

I can't believe I wrote a whole post about this.  I had intended to mention it and then write about a bunch of other things that have been going on.  So I must really be thinking about this a lot, more than I realize.  And that makes me even more interested in what you think about this whole psychic thing: Do you believe?   Have you been to a psychic?  Have things they told you actually come true?

Just my funny little way of saying this shall be "brief" (har-dee-har-har, I know).

Yes.  And so.

I'm at a loss as to what to write, because there's so much that's happened and even more that's going to happen.  I finished the hours at my jay-oh-bee, and they asked me to stay longer, so I am.  They are wicked nice there, and it's very quiet and barely even registers on my stress radar.  I like being able to see my husband during the day and we laugh a lot.  So it's been really awesome.  This week they are interviewing for full time, though, so we shall see what comes up.  I'm hoping to snag an interview myself at the local quilt store, being a full time creative and IT nerd.  Someone I adore hooked me up with a soundtrack gig, which is some crazy fun luck, especially since the movie is along the same lines as Tim Burton's creations.  And my husband?  He's in this incredible band that has somehow attracted a whole lot of attention because of who the members are [were?].  They'll be performing live next month, I believe.  I get to be an official groupie.

I did mention last time I was here about the ladybugs that I found out in the winter snow that day, and ya'll told me it meant good luck was to follow very soon.  I wasn't sure at the time that it would actually happen, but it made me happy to think it could happen and bring good luck and that was enough for me.  But the next day I got some really kick-ass seats to see Stewart Copeland in Savannah (third row centre) and I figured maybe I should "look up" a little more :)

Unfortunately, the trip out there would have cost waaaay too much and I had to cancel that trip -- even though I had accepted the JAY-OH-BEE to help cover it.  I'm dying because I wanted to see a boatload of friends there, and the whole Stewart releasing a new song thing would have been pretty nifty too.  So I booked a trip to San Diego to see a chum of mine, who was a bridesmaid in my wedding, when I got a call from my bud Shannon who told me that the Police had just added more dates.  Hoo boy.  I guess three concerts weren't enough for me, or else I am certifiably insane, because I'm going to another concert with my friend Grace (and meeting several others there), and hopefully being a bearer of the green that night from fourth row.  I might still be going to the concert in San Diego if I can swing it, and have tentatively booked my flight for that time.  Seriously, though... if you get a chance to go see the Police, just do it.  You don't have to be a fan of the band, just someone who loves a good time.  I have no reason to steer you wrong on this, especially since the tickets are so expensive and I'm not getting a cut for getting you to shell out.  Just go, already.

So if you've read up to this point, you've figured out that even though things are up and down constantly this month, I'm at a pretty good spot right now :)  I've been searching all over the planet for ladybug pendants to wear, to remind me that you have to make your own luck.  I'm kinder to myself, because if this whole JAY-OH-BEE thing has reminded me of anything, it's that you have to protect your investment.  I am more in love with my kids and my husband than ever and ironically this has released me from a lot of guilt I used to carry around with me.  I'm lazier than usual, though... like I've had to stop working out because there just aren't enough hours in the day plus I haven't gotten into a regular schedule with work yet.  So there's some bad with the good, and I'm sure there's something disgustingly trite I could say right now that would make your stomach tighten so I won't go there.

Miss this place.  Miss my 'hood.  I miss my dog, my Vox, and my Pac-Man.  Life could be so much worse.