I got a great gift from my nephew several years ago... a piano... a Yamaha piano to be exact. My sister gave it to her son when she didn't have room for it I guess. Her son, "Mick", gave it to me when he didn't want to haul it back to California from Georgia somewhere around 2005. He had finished his bachelor's degree at a private school in town while living with me. He said the piano was a gift for free room & board but knowing Mick? It was much more likely he was just too lazy to move the thing back home.
I know whereof I speak! Nephew Mick is not known for his sentimentality. When my mother gave him oil paintings done by his father - Mick didn't know what to do with them one day during a garage cleaning rampage - and he tossed them on the "take to dump" pile. My mom had held on to those paintings - some of them quite lovely - with great affection for many years. To say she was fried would be expressing it delicately... but I digress...
So I have this wonderful Yamaha piano that for several years sat in storage until I had a place of my own again. With all the moves, it's gotten a tad banged up. The cabinet could use a refinishing - but the sound is wonderful - when it's in tune which it isn't right now. The piano tuner will be back up next month and I'm hoping that with the advent of spring (and my humidifier) it will hold it's tune better this time. The strings stretch as "Peter Piano Tuner" told me they would after not having been tuned for so many years. But since the weather has been running from 0 to minus 30 with windchill - the house is dry and the heater running most of time. Not good for a piano's tone.
Nevertheless, I continue to attack the instrument with a steely determination to master it's mysteries. I've had maybe 4-5 months of piano lessons over the last year - and not being blessed with a patient nature - I decided I couldn't wait for 10 years to pass before I could read music (I may be dead and buried by that time) and therefore would get sheet music of a song I liked and learn to play it. It took a year of listening to the composer play the piece over and over and following the music but I know it by heart - if not exactly employing exemplary wrist position and fingering technique. The song is "Overcome" by pianist and composer David Nevue. Although it was scored at the passing of his father some years ago - it's title says something else to me. You can learn to do anything even at the age of 60. I'm now working on my next piece, again by David Nevue, "No More Tears". That is rather appropriate as well... I'm not sure why - but I can actually play a song on the piano not written for a 7 year old. I'm the Billy Joel of the old single church lady set - I can listen and with a bit of help from a score - play the piano... at least one song.
Now if I could just afford to replace my Canon DSLR that broke 2 years ago... I could be the Annie Leibowitz of the old single church lady set... How hard can it be to get the lighting just right?
Saturday, February 21, 2015
Friday, October 3, 2014
This Is REALLY The Last Batch
Butch maintains a large and prolific community garden at our church (Lighthouse Assembly of God) in Harbor Beach, Michigan. He has a passion for vegetable gardening and when you ask him how it's going - better grab a chair and coffee because he has lots to tell you! He loves to grow food and give it away - to the food bank, neighbors, people at church. Anyone who wants to "u-pick" can go to Butch.
At the front of Butch's garden is an old green Rubbermaid tub with lid. Inside he stores bags and buckets for the gleaners. A few feet away a rusted shovel stands upright in the damp garden soil. It's cracked, silver-grey handle creaks with strain as your foot shoves the blade downward looking for booty. Ah, but the reward... Lots of red potatoes from giant to new - masterfully nurtured from seed planted last spring by my friend Butch.
Tonight - I'm generating more bragging rights for the weekend. I'm putting up vegetables from Butch's garden; red potatoes, pole beans, bell peppers, banana peppers, and fresh parsley to be dried.
...and a few last potatoes from Judy's and my garden (but they're a lot smaller than Butch's).
Friday, November 8, 2013
Living a Dream Come True - Without Fighting God
I thought I would post some of my favorite photos of life in utopia. There is an utter lack of sophistication in a small farming community such as this. What I have discovered is that where you live pretty much dictates your life's priorities - and I don't think it is supposed to work like that.
When I read the Bible, I understand that we are not to be "conformed to this world" and when I lived in a large urban area - I thought that phrase mean the BIG sins like sexual immorality - having a foul mouth - lying, stealing, cheating, etc etc. But now living in a non-urban area - I've discovered that "not being conformed to this world" has a realm of possibilities. For example, in Atlanta, my life revolved around my worrying about my weight, whether I had make-up on, whether I could afford high-quality clothes, keeping my car sparkling clean, getting my hair done in a high-end salon, and earlier - keeping the yard well-manicured, participating whenever a group of people had lunch together... blah blah blah. Now - I haven't washed my car in two months - we drive on dirt roads between fields of corn, sugar beats, and winter wheat. Nobody seems to understand the "healthy eating movement" - everyone is solidly built - and farmers all show the effects of a hard life in their lined faces - but neither they or their wives are keeling over from not eating sprouts and organic smoothies. In fact everyone around here over the age of 60 seems to be healthier than some urban people in their 40s. A subjective remark to be sure - but true none the less. Just maybe - to not be conformed to this world - means more than just avoidance of breaking the ten commandments or "lusting in your heart" after an attractive woman or man. Maybe it means something like getting off your high horse and stop trying to maintain a mask of sophistication. Maybe it means - it's ok to look like yourself instead of a Barbie doll with wicked cool clothes, a painted make-up face, and hair to dye (sic) for. Maybe it's ok to be a young woman in her late 20's getting rounder and softer after 3 or 4 kids and having a hard-working husband who loves her. Sorry folks but there is no zero-population, 2.0 kids in this part of the world. Here, couples seem to marry young, have several kids, and grow old together - all the while not washing their cars every week and letting their hair go gray (I'm working on it, Lord).
And here are my pictures of life in utopia...
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| Port Austin Farmer's Market |
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| Lighthouse Road, Point Aux Barques, Michigan |
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| Doe and Yearlings - Point Aux Barques State Park, Michigan |
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| Autumn Fields |
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Hwy 53 - The Road to Bad Axe, Michigan |
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Still Learning After All These Years
After moving to a small farming community on the shores of Lake
Huron, I decided I needed to obey the biblical injunction to "assemble"
with other Christian believers.
I am by nature a reserved person preferring to stay at home and piddle around rather than to socialize. In fact it's become a rather significant life choice resulting in a lack of close friends. I'm not even sure I know what a friend is. The last one I had was in 1980 something - my friend Darlene. We are still friends though we spent several years out of contact. But she lives on the west coast and I am now in the mid-west. The distance is hardly conducive to maturing a friendship with all the gives and takes that friendship requires to be a true thriving relationship.But we do talk on the phone and keep up with each other's health issues and life challenges. I never fail to hang up the phone and think, "Gosh I wish we didn't live so far apart. I miss her!".
Back to my original thought - that of "getting involved" in a local church. Now here is the thing. I was introduced to another single woman when I moved here. It was fun getting to discover a new area and having someone to "pal" around with. But the days turned into weeks and gradually my normal life's rhythm returned. Jumping in the car and taking off began to disrupt what little routine I had been trying to build. But my new friend - and rightly so - was confused by my withdrawal from social contact. I found myself constantly having to do the boyfriend/girlfriend break-up dance to the tune of "It's Not You - It's Me" - and tiring of having to justify why I don't answer my phone all the time (I usually don't know where it is) or why I don't call to cry on her shoulder when I'm feeling blue (because I don't DO that with anyone except my daughter-in-law). The more I was expected to stay in constant contact - the more I withdrew. But unfortunately, God doesn't allow us the luxury of withdrawing from other human beings so that we can pamper ourselves and do only what we want, when we want.
After starting to attend church, I looked for ways to be of service to the Lord. I don't feel any specific call on my life - "Therefore", I thought, "I'll just find something that needs to be done or where a volunteer is needed - and I'll do that for now." And I started volunteering all over the place; Working with young readers to improve their reading skills, offering to babysit for a single mother when she was stuck for childcare, participating in the Youth for Christ weekly evening get-together s for the local young people in surrounding communities, taking pictures of church members for the church directory, doing childcare during weekly bible study... and the list goes on. And I joined a quilting group as a way to force myself out of the house. All of these activities have something in common - they have forced me to leave the house - talk to people - and let others know me. And this is what I found - there is a comfort level in being unknown - you can slip in and out quietly without making real contact. But where there is comfort - there is also stagnation. You avoid accidentally revealing your insecurities - you can keep a mask over your face and avoid too close a connection. And you can keep from getting too close to anyone. Only the thing is that God wants sincere people - without pretense or deception. He calls us to expose our flaws and insecurities - and in doing so - we find healing in the acceptance of other imperfect human beings.
I am by nature a reserved person preferring to stay at home and piddle around rather than to socialize. In fact it's become a rather significant life choice resulting in a lack of close friends. I'm not even sure I know what a friend is. The last one I had was in 1980 something - my friend Darlene. We are still friends though we spent several years out of contact. But she lives on the west coast and I am now in the mid-west. The distance is hardly conducive to maturing a friendship with all the gives and takes that friendship requires to be a true thriving relationship.But we do talk on the phone and keep up with each other's health issues and life challenges. I never fail to hang up the phone and think, "Gosh I wish we didn't live so far apart. I miss her!".
Back to my original thought - that of "getting involved" in a local church. Now here is the thing. I was introduced to another single woman when I moved here. It was fun getting to discover a new area and having someone to "pal" around with. But the days turned into weeks and gradually my normal life's rhythm returned. Jumping in the car and taking off began to disrupt what little routine I had been trying to build. But my new friend - and rightly so - was confused by my withdrawal from social contact. I found myself constantly having to do the boyfriend/girlfriend break-up dance to the tune of "It's Not You - It's Me" - and tiring of having to justify why I don't answer my phone all the time (I usually don't know where it is) or why I don't call to cry on her shoulder when I'm feeling blue (because I don't DO that with anyone except my daughter-in-law). The more I was expected to stay in constant contact - the more I withdrew. But unfortunately, God doesn't allow us the luxury of withdrawing from other human beings so that we can pamper ourselves and do only what we want, when we want.
After starting to attend church, I looked for ways to be of service to the Lord. I don't feel any specific call on my life - "Therefore", I thought, "I'll just find something that needs to be done or where a volunteer is needed - and I'll do that for now." And I started volunteering all over the place; Working with young readers to improve their reading skills, offering to babysit for a single mother when she was stuck for childcare, participating in the Youth for Christ weekly evening get-together s for the local young people in surrounding communities, taking pictures of church members for the church directory, doing childcare during weekly bible study... and the list goes on. And I joined a quilting group as a way to force myself out of the house. All of these activities have something in common - they have forced me to leave the house - talk to people - and let others know me. And this is what I found - there is a comfort level in being unknown - you can slip in and out quietly without making real contact. But where there is comfort - there is also stagnation. You avoid accidentally revealing your insecurities - you can keep a mask over your face and avoid too close a connection. And you can keep from getting too close to anyone. Only the thing is that God wants sincere people - without pretense or deception. He calls us to expose our flaws and insecurities - and in doing so - we find healing in the acceptance of other imperfect human beings.
Moving On
Originally blogged sometime in 2013.
Seven years ago I was fired from my job. I was 52 and recently diagnosed with ADHD. At the same time I was having multiple health problems. Each day was more difficult than the day before just getting out of bed and dragging myself to work. Laying awake at night dreading the morning. God seemed so very far away.
First my huskies went to foster homes which later became permanent, the cats too except for one, my car which I painstakingly cleaned and polished was picked up and returned to the finance company, then my house was sold at auction. The best furniture went to my son and the rest went in storage. I laid on a mattress in the empty living room next to my last dog and stared at a wall while my friend and her daughter packed up what was left in the house.
I tried working 9 months after my job loss - doing contract work. I was let go because of my health problems. I filed for Social Security Disability and was turned down so with borrowed money, I retained an attorney and we filed an appeal of Social Security's denial. It took 3 years to get a court hearing during which time I had zero income and had to borrow money for food, medication, whatever was needed.
Seven years later, the physical health problems have been pretty much resolved after 3 major surgeries. I lived with my oldest son for 4 years off and on, a year and a half was spent with a nephew, a year and a half with my sister, 6 weeks with my younger son. The emotional issues are still rearing their ugly heads now and then. I find it hard to lay the past to rest with all it's losses. In my mind's eye - I look for a time when I have my own home again. Room to move without tripping over debris stacked on the floor, desk top or rolling over something stacked on one side of the bed. But it's time to move on.
Seven years ago I was fired from my job. I was 52 and recently diagnosed with ADHD. At the same time I was having multiple health problems. Each day was more difficult than the day before just getting out of bed and dragging myself to work. Laying awake at night dreading the morning. God seemed so very far away.
First my huskies went to foster homes which later became permanent, the cats too except for one, my car which I painstakingly cleaned and polished was picked up and returned to the finance company, then my house was sold at auction. The best furniture went to my son and the rest went in storage. I laid on a mattress in the empty living room next to my last dog and stared at a wall while my friend and her daughter packed up what was left in the house.
I tried working 9 months after my job loss - doing contract work. I was let go because of my health problems. I filed for Social Security Disability and was turned down so with borrowed money, I retained an attorney and we filed an appeal of Social Security's denial. It took 3 years to get a court hearing during which time I had zero income and had to borrow money for food, medication, whatever was needed.
Seven years later, the physical health problems have been pretty much resolved after 3 major surgeries. I lived with my oldest son for 4 years off and on, a year and a half was spent with a nephew, a year and a half with my sister, 6 weeks with my younger son. The emotional issues are still rearing their ugly heads now and then. I find it hard to lay the past to rest with all it's losses. In my mind's eye - I look for a time when I have my own home again. Room to move without tripping over debris stacked on the floor, desk top or rolling over something stacked on one side of the bed. But it's time to move on.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Why I can't update my blog
The thing about getting older and dealing with the current state of internet technology is that I can't remember email accounts and passwords without my "password book" - which I can never find when I need it. I estimate that if anyone found that indispensable article - the world would know the unfortunate size of my under-panties in 13 seconds as well as my sisters MasterCard number and expiration date.
I originally started a blog about ADHD and the after-effects of the diagnosis at age 52... loss of job, home, dogs, car, etc. and the next 6 years spent living with a nephew, a son, and children while I tried to get back on my feet. Of course all of those things didn't happen just because someone told me there was a reason why I didn't think like other people - it just coincided with a number of health issues and was the proverbial straw that pushed me over the cliff - to mix metaphors.
Anyway, it took me 3 days of reading Blogger help files and attempting to remember all of my 33 email address accounts and passwords to find the right one linked to my blog. Fortunately for the rest of western culture, I finally got things hooked up and I am now back in the land of the marginal blogger.
Watched "Social Network" about Mark what-his-face who started Facebook. If I wanted to let my nasty nature have free reign I could blog a lot of vindictive stuff about other people too - however - being the hypocrite that I am I prefer to keep my nasty side under wraps and pretend I'm too nice to think the things I think but wouldn't dare put in print much less speak aloud. Speaking of which it occurs to me that the only things people like to read about are nasty things about other people...
Why is it - do you think - that reality TV for the most part is composed of people living together or in relationships of various sorts that absolutely squander their four-letter vocabularies when describing or just generally talking about their "friends". My two sons in their teenage years thought Jerry Springer was just the height of sophistication. I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief when they finally left the contrived trash of afternoon television for the evening venue of clean athletic competition - namely the WWF. Who could blame them after all - did anyone not love the gentlemanly behavior and athleticism of Stone Cold Steve Austin? But I digress...
I originally started a blog about ADHD and the after-effects of the diagnosis at age 52... loss of job, home, dogs, car, etc. and the next 6 years spent living with a nephew, a son, and children while I tried to get back on my feet. Of course all of those things didn't happen just because someone told me there was a reason why I didn't think like other people - it just coincided with a number of health issues and was the proverbial straw that pushed me over the cliff - to mix metaphors.
Anyway, it took me 3 days of reading Blogger help files and attempting to remember all of my 33 email address accounts and passwords to find the right one linked to my blog. Fortunately for the rest of western culture, I finally got things hooked up and I am now back in the land of the marginal blogger.
Watched "Social Network" about Mark what-his-face who started Facebook. If I wanted to let my nasty nature have free reign I could blog a lot of vindictive stuff about other people too - however - being the hypocrite that I am I prefer to keep my nasty side under wraps and pretend I'm too nice to think the things I think but wouldn't dare put in print much less speak aloud. Speaking of which it occurs to me that the only things people like to read about are nasty things about other people...
Why is it - do you think - that reality TV for the most part is composed of people living together or in relationships of various sorts that absolutely squander their four-letter vocabularies when describing or just generally talking about their "friends". My two sons in their teenage years thought Jerry Springer was just the height of sophistication. I breathed a tremendous sigh of relief when they finally left the contrived trash of afternoon television for the evening venue of clean athletic competition - namely the WWF. Who could blame them after all - did anyone not love the gentlemanly behavior and athleticism of Stone Cold Steve Austin? But I digress...
The Bionic Knitter
I'm definitely showing my age, I've finally decided. A few days ago I was horrified to catch my face at a 45 degree angle and the flabby thing that hangs under a chickens beak was hanging underneath my chin. I shuddered in horror. How in the world did this happen. Do i know anybody with $10K free floating around so I can get a face lift?
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