Sharing My World 50

Coffee Wars Front Runner in Action

SHARE YOUR WORLD – 2016 WEEK 7

What are you a “natural” at doing?

If natural abilities show up in childhood with a minimum of encouragement, perhaps mine was related to music.  I never had much of a singing voice (my sister got all the talent there) but I had an ear for music and perfect pitch and could sight-read pieces and play them on the piano with ease.  In teachers college when I finally showed up to try out for the special music class they asked me what in the world I’d been waiting for.  Not much ever came of all that talent.  I haven’t touched a piano in years.  I get supremely annoyed if someone sings off-key or hits a bad note.  I like to listen to classical music and jazz once in a blue moon, and sometimes switch the sat radio to tunes from the 1940’s  They’re so bad they’re good.

Now I’m a natural at making soup.  It’s a much more useful ability.  My mom must have passed on to me part of her talent for throwing a bunch of stuff together without a measuring cup in sight and ending up with something delicious.  No recipe, difficult to duplicate, always a surprise.  Edible music to warm your soul on a cold winters day.

Would you prefer a one floor house or multiple levels?

The house you need/want/prefer is constantly changing as your life and circumstances change.  As much as I have always loved the idea of living in a six-story castle with turrets and ballrooms, I’m afraid all those stone staircases and drafty halls would kill me now, never mind the responsibility of servants and groundskeepers and film makers wanting to use it for a movie set.  A grand old three-story mansion with an attic would probably do me in as well.  I’m too old for haunted spaces and fireplaces with dead birds stuck in the chimneys and entire rooms made in to dusty old libraries.  I’ve also given up my dream of having a cathedral ceiling with windows everywhere and a cozy artists loft.  Even our three bedroom bungalow is feeling too big for the two of us these days.  I’m ready for something smaller with no stairs anywhere, not even up to the front door.  Flat as a pancake and easy to clean.  Sturdy shelves for my books and a corner for my art supplies and a kitchen almost too small to turn around in, but big enough for soup.

What was your favorite subject in school?

You might expect me to say art, but I didn’t love it because it was so structured then, with too many rules and often disappointing results.  I did love English, or Language Arts, and composition.  I hated how we were made to do book reports though, dissecting everything to death.  It was like explaining a joke until it was no longer funny.  In high school I thoroughly enjoyed Latin.  That was like having a love affair with words.

Complete this sentence: If only the rain..

…..would soak the world with joy and wash away all the pain and hurt and hate.  And maybe sweep some obnoxious mouthy morons down a sewer grate.

What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

It is getting easier every day to know what I can and cannot eat to keep my diabetic readings stable.  Last night we dined out.  I had Chicken Parmesan, sweet potato fries and five ounces of Merlot.  Perfect.  Except for the blatant absence of vegetables.  But sometimes I make a meal of nothing but vegetables, so it all evens out.

We have packages of coffee, both beans and ground, that we are trying half heartedly to use up by brewing a pot of coffee in the morning.  It’s coffee brewer vs. Tassimo, and Tassimo is sneaking in a lot of wins.  It’s just so much easier than measuring out water and scoops of coffee and having the coffee sit there and get stale and then poured down the sink and spilling the filter full of wet grounds on its way to the little green compost bin.  Life is just so hard when you have nothing of consequence to do with yourself.

There is this one thing though.  W has asked me to do one of my collage pictures with a fishing theme.  He wants to hang it up at camp, although where exactly is a mystery because the walls are already covered with photo boards and other fishy things.  I said ‘what if you hate it?’ and he said ‘I’ll hang it up anyway’.

I’m grateful he has shown an interest in my work, other than to ask me what the hell I’m planning to do with all this shit.  So that’s my next project.  When we move to our tiny little pancake house we will be having one hell of a garage sale.

 

Art du Jour 88

Special request for my daughter who wanted a drawing of the late Layne Staley from Alice in Chains.  Hope I got that right.  I guess he was an Ozzy fan.

Sharing My World 25

Share Your World – 2015 Week #14

What type of music relaxes you the most or do you prefer silence?

Sometimes I think there’s no such thing as relaxing music.  For me it is never in the background, no matter how soft and sweet.  It feels intrusive.  It gets in my head and interferes with everything else.  I hope that proves that there are actually a few things in there.  I especially don’t like music playing when I’m on hold on the phone or loudly blaring at me when I’m shopping.  Or when the next door neighbors’ son starts his car in the morning. That kid cannot possibly have much left of his ear drums. Recorded water sounds (rainfall, waterfalls, waves) and weird and random nature noises just make me nervous.  A harp makes me feel sad.  Piano music grates on my nerves because I used to play piano and I am constantly listening for mistakes.  Even the sound of somebody humming annoys the hell out of me.

Okay.  I guess the answer here is that I prefer silence.  Or white noise, like a monotonous fan, which filters out everything else.  I will probably be the happiest old deaf person you have ever seen.

Show us a two of your favorites photographs.  Explain why they are your favorite.   If you are not a photographer, think of a two favorite scenes in your life and tell us about them.

Two of my favourite things are my adult children who both have families of their own now, although I still often think of them like this:

The best place to enjoy a drippy popsicle is wherever the juicy stains are least likely to be noticed.

I apologize if the sight of this furniture damaged some of your brain cells.  If colour made noise, this couch would probably give you a migraine.  It came with the government housing in the late 1970’s in Inuvik, N.W.T.  It was not my fault.  My daughter painting my son was also not my fault.

What is your favorite tradition? (family tradition, church tradition, whatever)

It doesn’t matter what we’re celebrating or where or why,  just being with family is what’s important.  As long as they don’t have their music turned up too loud.

If you could go back and talk to yourself at age 18 what advice would you give yourself?  Or if you are younger than 25 what words of wisdom would you like to tell yourself at age 50?

When I was 25 I could not imagine ever being 50. Now that I’m well past 50 I can’t for the life of me remember what I was up to at the age of 18.  Maybe I would just tell that girl to enjoy the music, because one day she’s going to kind of hate it.  I would also let her know her kids are going to one day paint each other for no apparent reason other than finding it funny.  She should laugh too. There can never be too much laughter in your life.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

I love Netflix when they send me notifications that some crazy thing I watched for 15 minutes 5 years ago has new episodes.  Because how would I know that otherwise?  I love that I can take time off from writing or painting or thinking and sit down and watch six episodes in a row of whatever I want, putting off what I actually should be doing for another time when I might feel like getting it done.

I don’t know what I’m looking forward to other than putting something on a really beautiful background I painted. I promise I will post it soon.  I don’t know why I’m taking so long to decide on something.  Maybe I’m afraid of ruining it. Maybe procrastination is just my all time favourite thing ever.  I can almost hear my 18-year-old self yelling at me from my past to get the hell off my ass and get some things accomplished before there are no years or months or days left.  Sorry, my fan is on high and I can’t understand you.  Netflix sends me an email.  Maybe try that in a couple of decades.

Sharing My World 10

Share Your World Week 46

On a vacation what would you require in any place that you sleep? 

A real bed with a real mattress which is a little less solid than concrete.  My back aches after sleeping on a too-soft surface, but when we were in Greece there was one place we stayed with beds so hard my hips and shoulders went numb and I had to keep turning one way and then the other to get the feeling back in them.  With my firm bed I like a soft pillow or no pillow at all.  I also like quiet.  And a night-light helps in an unfamiliar place, so that using the bathroom doesn’t involve breaking any bones or stubbing any toes or falling off any balconies in the middle of the night.  All of those things are much worse when they happen in the dark.

Music or silence while working?

Silence please.  Ever had one of those stupid days where you get distracted by absolutely everything? These last two have been high on my list of occasions when I’ve been mostly out to lunch.  I don’t actually have such a list, but if I did it would be a long one.  Follow me around for a few minutes.  I decide to change the sheets on the bed (which incidentally has the best bamboo chiropractic mattress ever), then gather up the laundry and take it downstairs, remember I have to photo copy an invoice on W’s printer down there because mine isn’t working, come back up to get it and decide it’s time for another cup of coffee, see that my favourite cup shelf is empty so start the dishwasher, notice the stove top looks disgusting and clean and shine it up,  then while looking for clean sheets remember the coffee I didn’t make,  put the invoice on the kitchen table so I’ll remember to take it downstairs with me the next time I go down there….and on it goes.  Music just adds to the confusion.  I don’t know where my powers of concentration have gone.  Maybe on vacation.  I also can’t remember how I ever got anything done around here when I was working 4 days out of 7.

If you were to move and your home came fully furnished with everything you ever wanted, list at least three things from your old house you wish to retain?

Everything I ever wanted would include a library, so I would bring all my books with me.  I’m counting that as one thing.  Thing two would be photo albums and framed pictures of family and boxes of treasures and memorabilia and I would sneak all my artwork into that category.  And finally, my grandmas rocking chair.  And probably that alien giraffe carving because seriously, how could I possibly leave him behind?  And all my electronic stuff.  Three is a pretty limiting number.  I like thirty-three better.

What’s your least favorite mode of transportation?

Ox cart.  I don’t have to ride in one to know that.  I like things that go fast and get me to where I’m going in the least amount of time possible.  So that means W can’t be driving them.

Bonus question:  What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?

Yesterday was my last follow-up with the specialist who walked into the room with a big smile on his face.  Once again they found nothing unusual and no reason to investigate further.  So he said, why don’t we just forget about it?  If anything else comes up I have his card and he will happily see me again.  But he sees no reason to continue with the poking and prodding anymore.  Best news ever.  Carry on as if I’m normal.  I can do that.

I’m looking forward to no more TV issues next week and for ever after for the rest of my life because last night we went out and bought a new one.  Now we have a new TV, a new digital box, and a new remote.  The TV is a SMART one.  Smartest thing we’ve purchased in a long time.  I’m not looking forward so much to paying the credit card bill, but not having W distract me from whatever I’m doing (or have forgotten I’m doing) to rant and rave about what the TV is up to now and telling me I have to come downstairs and figure out how to fix it – that’s got to be worth every penny.   And then some.  We can watch Netflix and You-Tube and all kinds of stuff on this one.  Told you it was smart.

Just Jazzy 277

Jazzy Does 100 Days of Happiness 64

Happiness is facing the music and discovering it’s okay to keep right on dancing. Happiness is health and never taking it for granted.

Just Another Scintilating Sunday

Asiatic Lily Bouquet, forced to listen to Satellite Radio and blooming madly anyway.

This morning as I was overloading my blender with mad cancer fighting ingredients (I say mad because if they’re fighting they ought to be mad) I wondered if it isn’t about time for me to make my peace with the satellite radio.  Normally I don’t appreciate it’s noise, and there are some days when I hate it.  Those are the days when I want everyone in the world to just shut up.  So if you are dropping over for coffee on one of those days, God help you.  But no worries, today I’m feeling pleasant and chatty.  And I am blogging this without wearing any make up. I feel like what I have to say is more important than how my face looks.  Although if you were actually here drinking coffee with me you might beg to differ.  Anyway, I know there are people out there who blog naked, so this is hardly big news, but it’s as close to blogging naked as I’m likely to get.

Okay, back to the sat radio.  W has it on all the time.  When I come home he is smart enough to turn it down.  If he doesn’t and I get to it first, it gets turned right off.  He also tries to find channels with the highest percentage chance of me being able to tolerate them.  I do try to be tolerant.  Especially of people who dearly love background noise.  And this morning I was thinking that because there’s a lot of channels, there should be at least one or two that not only won’t make my head ache but that I might also actually enjoy. Yeah, well, it’s Sunday, the weather is nice, I’m in a good mood.  Pigs could fly.  Let’s try some music from the 1940’s.  I’m not kidding.  They had weird music back then and I don’t mind listening to that.  I picked up the remote, pressed select, and tried to remember what combination of zeros and fours would get me there.

Suddenly there was a deep growling voice doing hip hop rap.  I don’t care if there isn’t any such thing, that’s clearly what it was.  He sounded like a mad muppet monster, only less intelligent.  So not exactly what I was expecting.  Eventually I found Count Bassie, a definite improvement.  I love jazz, swing, big band and piano blues.  Although in small doses rather than large.  Maybe I was born in the wrong era.  The radio is still playing but I’m in a different room and can’t really hear it.  But, hey, it’s still turned on.

Speaking of “hey”, I had a delightful conversation with a little boy at work yesterday.  He was about three, with ears that he hasn’t quite grown into.  He walked right up beside me in our lab.

Him:  HEY!

Me: Hey.

Him:  Hey!  What are you doing?

Me:  I’m cleaning a pair of glasses.

Him:  Hey!  What’s that white thing?

Me:  It’s an ultrasonic cleaner, sort of like a bath for glasses.

Him:  Hey!  That’s funny!  Haha!

Mom from the doorway:  Hey!  What are you doing?  Get out of there!

So hey, he had to leave.

Aren’t those Asiatic Lilies beautiful?  A gift from K and C last weekend.  I can’t believe how they’ve lasted.  My tiger lilies in the back yard are just starting to bloom too.  I’m surrounded by lilies and Woody Herman and Duke Ellington and the voice that says “…no destination…just 40’s and beyond!”

Sort of like this post, no real purpose, just some meandering coffee talk, keeping my typing fingers limber.  Well, I’m going to go get some more coffee, how about you? Really?  But I’ve got French Vanilla cream!  Hey, where are you going?  Come back!

Summerfly

I don’t normally have Fridays off, but when I do, not everyone can keep up with me.

Sometimes things to talk about come in the mail or mysteriously surface during a clean-up and neither will leave your head until you forcibly remove them.  At least that’s been my experience.  For today.  Tomorrow could be another whole ball of wax. (Where did that strange expression come from? I tried looking it up, but it seems no one can agree on its exact origin and after reading the third or fourth educated guess I lost interest.)

Anyway, after waiting all week for it, an invoice/receipt arrived at last in the mail today.  I am sharing part of it here because I think it’s pretty exciting.

If all goes well, I will be celebrating my May 13th birthday in Athens this year.  Santorini is one of the places my brother visited and loved and thought he would like to return to see again some day but he never got the chance.  So this trip is a family holiday to remember him.  Good Gawd, look at all those island ferry transfers across the deep dark sea.  I hope they make good wine in Greece.

The other thing I’m sharing surfaced from a filing cabinet, in a file folder labeled ‘recipes’.  Who in the world prints off random recipes from the internet and files them away and ignores them for a decade?  Never mind, we already know the answer to that.  Inside this folder I also found a copy of a Christmas letter written by our cats in 1997, a three-fold religious pamphlet and a letter from a fitness spa, but there was something else in there even MORE interesting.  I can picture you rolling your eyes and sighing but sorry, that’s not going to stop me.  Here are the amazing printed words I found with no title and no explanation.

In another younger day I could dream the time away
In the universe inside my room
And the world was really mine from June until September
And if it wasn’t really so I was lucky not to know
And I was lucky not to wonder why
Because the summer time is all that I remember

A summer fly was buzzin’ every night when I was young
In the gentle world my child-like senses knew
And the world was just my cousin
And the wind was just the tongue
In the voice my lonely moments listened to

And I look at me today all the dreams have gone away
And I’m where I never thought I would be
Seeing things I never thought I would see happening to me
And I lay awake at night til the darkness turns to light
Hearing voices calling out my name
Droning over and again the same message to me

Crying who’s your partner, who’s your darlin’, who’s your baby now?
Who wakes up at night to pull you in
But it don’t matter, you’ll just make her lonely anyhow
I don’t know why you even try to win

At first I thought it was a poem but then I remembered it’s the lyrics to a song and went searching for it on YouTube.  It’s amazing what’s on that site and the stuff that comes up and how much time can go flying by while you’re sitting on the living room couch with your I-Pad and a gigantic cup of coffee.

If you don’t know this song but like the words and the kind of sad and dreamy way they sound in your head, I think you’re going to love the music.  There was some method to my madness, writing it down and putting it away in safekeeping to be discovered again on some very distant future Friday off.

Beautiful Ocean, Beautiful Tree

I took this picture! It’s the Atlantic Ocean! (Not the whole thing, of course.)

Ever wake up with some ridiculous song in your head and no clue why it surfaced?  Like maybe from the bottom of the sea while the bubbles danced about above the water?

Yep, dreams can be messed up and confusing, and that’s why I rarely try to analyze them lest real life become equally baffling.  I just google the pertinent stuff I remember which I’m pretty sure I couldn’t possibly have made up.  Here’s a link to this delightful song from my childhood.  I am sharing it along with a warning.  It WILL get stuck in your head and you WILL want to sing along.  So click at the risk of your own sanity, or to prove me wrong, whichever one works for you.

http://songs.musicsales.com/pop_play.asp?sng=200705081063

How fun was that?

Now to get that song out of your head, here’s one by Rain Perry.  It’s the theme song for “Life Unexpected” which is kind of a sappy tv show with a very far-fetched story line, but also some amazing sob-worthy moments.  And obviously a great theme song.

Hope you’re having a beautiful Sunday.

Bubble Bath

Imagine a romantic candle lit bathroom scene with rose petals and steamy mirrors, a glass of white wine perched on the edge of a big claw foot tub and a shapely leg rising from scented bubbles.  It’s time to pamper yourself, listen to some good music, think happy thoughts, close your eyes and relax.

I’m impressed if you were able to get all that going on in your head, and even more impressed if you’ve done it all in real life and it works for you.

I’m afraid I have a very bad bubble bath attitude and don’t understand what all the fuss is about.  I would rather shower than take a bath.  I don’t like all that soap and how it makes my skin itch. I don’t like hot-tubs full of chemicals and flakes of dead skin either.  I don’t like soap scum, bathtub rings or rubber ducks.  Is there a bah humbug expression for this kind of thing?  I am the Ebenezer Scrooge of bathing with bubbles.

This is how happy it makes me to soak in a tub.  Please stop torturing this poor woman and let her pull the damn plug.

Oh well, that’s just me.  I do understand it is a little weird to feel this way.  But I can relax and listen to music and drink wine while admiring my toes without getting all wet or locking myself in the bathroom first.  However, if that’s what you really want to do, I would never try to stop you.

Just clean up that scummy oily soap ring when you’re done.

Posted for Cin’s Feb Challenge /Witchy Rambles Day 7 – Bubble Bath

Sing

Still gorgeous after all these years.

“Someone once asked me why people sing. I answered that they sing for many of the same reasons the birds sing. They sing for a mate, to claim their territory, or simply to give voice to the delight of being alive in the midst of a beautiful day. Perhaps more than the birds do, humans hold a grudge. They sing to complain of how grievously they have been wronged, and how to avoid it in the future. They sing to help themselves execute a job of work. They sing so the subsequent generations won’t forget what the current generation endured, or dreamed, or delighted in.”

Linda Ronstadt     Simple Dreams: A Musical Memoir  

Posted for Cin’s Feb Challenge  on Witchy Rambles