Setting The World On Fire

The Ink SpotsWhen there’s all kinds of things I should be getting done on a Sunday afternoon, I like to go to YouTube and listen to music from my youth (and even more ancient times than that).  I’m not saying this is a good plan to have, but it’s a lovely open-ended one.  If you don’t like a lot of discipline and structure in your life, I suggest you try it.

The worst case scenario is that you end up with some strange tune in your head for about three days.  But there’s also definite perks involved.  Like discovering a cover of a song that you like just as much, if not better, than the original.  Sorry to all you Peach Stealing Monkey fans out there, but I’d never heard of them until today.  “I Don’t Want to Set the World on Fire” was, is, and ever shall be an Ink Spots hit from the 1940’s.  It lives on in a video game called Fallout.  Another new thing I learned today.  Proving one is never too old to learn something, no matter how irrelevant or useless the information might seem to be at the exact moment in which it is duly noted.  These random facts could pop up in a trivia game at some point in the future making you look brilliant, you just never know.

So here’s the version I like enough to share on this sunny cold Sunday in our non existent Spring.  The one in which we couldn’t set the world on fire if we tried because of all the stubborn snow still hanging about.  Hope you’re having a lovely lazy Sunday doing whatever it is you love to do.

February Song

Josh Groban (album)

Josh Groban (album) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

How about some Josh Groban on a cold and overcast February Sunday morning?

Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won’t be long
Til he opens his eyes, opens his eyes
Where is that simple day
Before colors broke into shades
And how did I ever fade
Into this life, into this life

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I’ve known is lost and found
I promise you I, I’ll come back to you one day

Morning is waking up
And sometimes it’s more than just enough
When all that you need to love
Is in front of your eyes
It’s in front of your eyes

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
Sometimes it’s hard to find the ground
Cause I keep on falling as I try to get away
From this crazy world

And I never want to let you down
Forgive me if I slip away
When all that I’ve known is lost and found
I promise you I, I’ll come back to you one day

Where has that old friend gone
Lost in a February song
Tell him it won’t be long
Til he opens his eyes
Opens his eyes

Sunday Morning, Praise the Dawning

My morning has been spent catching up on stuff.  I don’t feel like being any more specific than that because it’s Sunday morning and Sundays are made for being vague and brain-dead.  It’s a new rule I made up just now.  My best rules are spur of the moment nonsense meant to rationalize whatever I’m up to.  Or not up to.  So feel free to borrow them, break them, forget them, or adhere to them strictly.  I’m pretty open on that.

Yesterday morning I drove W to the airport (five o’clock in the morning…here am I…driving out to the airport, wishing I could fly….) (apologies to Leann Rimes and the song Blue). I have discovered that making up my own song lyrics is a great way to stay awake while driving.  But only when there’s no passengers involved in the creative process.

W is off to Ontario once again, this time on a rather sad mission, to wrap up his responsibilities for his brother who left this world quietly on January 3rd.   He fought the good fight, but it was a long and tiring one and I’m sad but thankful he was able to give it up at last. I truly believe he is in a better place now.

We were talking on the way out there about how you get to an age where the people you know and love start leaving this world on a rather regular basis.  I guess we’ve reached that age.  I don’t mean to sound callous or uncaring, but I remember whenever I talked to my mom and she’d rhyme off a list of all the people she knew who had passed away recently I’d get annoyed.  I suppose it’s a necessary evil of living so long yourself, but I found it an uncomfortable subject.  Maybe I need to get used to it.  The alternative I suppose is to not be around myself to witness these sad events.

So I’m on my own again for a couple of weeks, and the first thing I did to celebrate that was to blow up the microwave.  There is something about me and microwaves that defies compatibility.  I really thought this one was a keeper, but there you go.  It did last longer than its predecessors so that’s something.  Although not much to brag about I suppose.

There are still things to be grateful for, although having to buy yet another appliance of indeterminate life span is maybe not one of them.  The weather is mild, it is gently snowing, the house is warm and quiet.  My neighbor is shovelling our driveway.  How incredibly thoughtful and kind that is.  This insane cold bug I caught days and days ago seems to finally be loosening its grip on me.  I must say I will miss the sexy deep singing voice that came with it, but not the breathy nasal part or the part where I cough up my lungs between verses.

Here’s a Sunday morning song and a virtual drive in the snow.  I don’t really get the lyrics to this one, but then nobody really gets mine either.  So, watch out, the world’s behind you.  Maybe that means nothing at all.

Sunday morning
praise the dawning
It’s just a restless feeling by my side
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It’s just the wasted years so close behind
Watch out the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all

Sunday morning
And I’m falling
I’ve got a feeling I don’t want to know
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It’s all the streets you crossed, not so long ago
Watch out the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all

Duct Tape Sunday

photo

Sunday is not always a day of rest.  It can also be a day of unbelievable boredom.  Our little shop of horrors should not be open on a day when there is nothing to do except check the clock every ten minutes to calculate how many more minutes are left before we can close the doors and go home.  It’s amazing what some people get paid to do isn’t it?  But come on, do you know how HARD it is to look busy when there’s nothing to do?  Sorry, I’m not giving away my secrets. Besides I think it’s a natural talent that can’t be taught to just anybody.

Our granddaughter Kenzie has been here this weekend with her dog and her duct tape.  She makes Barbie furniture and accessories, wallets, purses, flowers, picture frames, hair bows, bookmarks and a big mess with bits and pieces of duct tape everywhere. Amazing stuff.  She looks on YouTube, finds something she likes and sits down and makes it.

While she does this, I make little boxes out of old Christmas cards.  These are the worlds smallest gift boxes, and I’m not making them merely because I’m nuts. There are some very small gifts that are hard to wrap and this makes it all easier.  Plus incredibly more fun.  I hope that sounded convincing.

Here’s some great music to craft by.  Play it loud enough and no one will hear you crying about your paper cuts.

Rainy Sunday

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This was taken from a country road close to the farm where we grew up. The colors are gorgeous here this time of year. Today we’ve had nothing but rain which has continued on from yesterday but a rainy Sunday fits our mood for the moment I guess. Not that it can stop the smiles and the laughter when we remember all the good times.
One more day with my Ontario family and tomorrow we head home to carry on as if we’re normal.
Happy October Sunday – I know the sun is shining somewhere. Thanks to everyone for their lovely comments.

What Can’t You Do With Your I-Phone?

This is an experiment in which I will attempt to prove that even old technologically challenged grandmas can figure out how to publish a post via phone.

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The tiger lilies are gorgeous again. They do this every year and before you know it they’re gone. Today is a beautiful day and it will also be gone before I know it so I’m off to enjoy it.
Have a fantastic Sunday.

Changing Traditions

What is My Most Non-Traditional Holiday Tradition?

This question has me seriously stumped. I’ve always thought of a tradition as being some practice or custom passed down through generations. Rituals of long standing. Conventions particular to beliefs which are deeply important and therefore should not be altered.

Well, big fail for me and my immediate family if there’s supposed to be some kind of continuity in how we celebrate holidays. We’re doing well if a ‘tradition’ lasts more than a couple of years in a row.

The only consistent thing I can think of that our family has ever done is to have ridiculously huge meals to celebrate occasions. Although there’s often no rhyme or reason to when or where or who gets invited.

When we were growing up we rarely celebrated Christmas or birthdays on the exact calendar day. Mom would arrange a date based on everyone’s convenience and ability to attend. (My birthday dinner was likely to happen some day or other in May. Early or late, it was no big deal, and often shared with someone else whose special day was however remotely close.)

Our Christmas dinner might just as easily be on the 20th of December as the 30th. Or maybe even the first Sunday in January if that’s when it suited people. When I met W. and discovered that his family observed their Christmas eve on the 24th of December each and every year no matter what I thought he must be joking, but he was dead serious about how it should be done.

So our kids celebrated on the exact proper day until they were off on their own and figuring out their own traditions. One of which, surprisingly enough, has become to pick a convenient day for “Christmas” (usually a few days early) so that there is more “after Christmas” time to spend with family (playing with new toys) before they have to head home and go back to work.

I’ve come to think of the random-day festivities as a tribute to my mom. So maybe our odd tradition is being basically traditionless, flying by the seat of our collective pants and making up the rules as we go along. It’s kind of fun to have a holiday looming and no set plan in place, no hundred and one things that you MUST get done by the dreaded deadline.

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