Listeme

We are a musical family.  The Richardses are, and the Richards-Van Pelts-McPhees are.  I've been playing the clarinet for 37 years now.  (37 years!  I don't think I've done many things longer than that -- eating and reading, maybe.)  I adore the clarinet.  I adore all woodwinds, but the clarinet is so versatile and so perfect.  It has been my instrument forever.  My focus for all of those years has been classical music.  That's what I have been doing, and that's what has made sense. So what is the banjo about?  It's weird, jangly, metallic, heavy.  My shoulders are still getting used to it. My fingers are raw!  I know nothing. To be proficient at the banjo will take me years.  To make beautiful music will take longer.  That's some of its appeal.  It takes me out of my comfortable musical genres and into genres that some of my ancestors loved.  I don't want to only build on what I know. I know noth...

I've decided to finally merge the two mirrored blogs. You can find Listeme here: Listeme See you on the other side of the looking glass...

This has been a very long week -- perhaps 16 or 17 days, at least. I have been offered -- and accepted -- my younger sister’s finished basement for the next year and a half. This will be a major cost-saver for me and a big help for her (she has two toddlers and is expecting a baby in August.) So that was a humongous start to the week. My other sister and her teenaged son have had to make some really hard decisions. She gave me permission to quote her: “spent yesterday at the hospital with my son. about eleven hours. sitting here writing and rewriting this entry trying to find just the right words. how to explain-- he is not healthy. he is mentally ill. he is not safe at home. none of this really covers it. so here's one image from the day. we walk into the east wing at maine med escorted by security. the very nice guard LOOKS like a skinhead but actually has incredible kindness and compassion for my snarly boy. he tells us gently that he has to check ian for weapons and sharp o...

January 6 . I’m way behind. I have only ONE resolution for 2006 so far (no fast food), but I’ve reminded myself that resolving should be done more often than once a year. (I’ve also already refined the no fast food rule: soda through the drive-thru does not count, nor does Starbucks. I’m still undecided about Subway, but I’m leaning towards saying it’s okay.) One of the stories I wrote at Odyssey was rejected on New Year’s Eve. I had a lot of hope in that story. Often rejections are something to file away, deal with, consider… and then I move on. This one was a real kick in the teeth. I’ve been really transparent about the writing and submission process with John. In the past I’ve been pathologically private about the whole process. So perhaps having him see it, see my flawed writing, see my vulnerability (he was beside me when I opened the email rejection letter) -- this was quite a stretching experience for me. And curiously, even though I felt quite raw at the time, talki...

Tonight, I went over to the house to share Chris’s birthday cake with the gang. When I arrived, Greg and Tina were decorating one of their Christmas trees. Due to some communication issues, the accumulated family ornaments had not been divided up yet… but there were Greg and Tina, trimming the tree. What the heck was I supposed to do? It’s not that any one ornament was so dreadfully important that I had to make a stand and claim it. But I had none. They had all of the ones from the marriage and family. Amazing how fast the adrenaline leaps when it comes to things like dividing up Christmas ornaments. Should I make a scene? Remember, the ornaments at this point are mostly already on the tree! Bah. So I said, kind of quietly, “I guess you didn’t get my voicemail about the ornaments?” I guess they hadn’t. So we did some very polite wrangling, me and my ex-husband and his brand-new wife, although she occasionally went into the other room. I would have given a whole lot to be abl...

Yes , we all survived Thanksgiving! Actually it was grand. I shall make a proper post, with pictures and everything. Summary points: The first aid kit was used, but not too much. The yams were once mashed, twice burned, once scraped, and uncomplained. The piano, flute, clarinets, and guitar were all used. Well. They were played. The nearly complete OED was VERY useful.

This is the third (or fourth or tenth) November in a row that I have wandered through in a fog. I pooh-pooh things like “seasonal affective disorder” but… it is definitely true that fall can be a challenge for me. Less sunlight = bad. The older I get, the more the cold affects me. Sometime around now (the week before Thanksgiving), I start to perk up. “What is that I smell?” Autumn leaves and pumpkin pie, that’s what. And I do so very much love Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is not about gifts or dressing up or impressing people. It is about sharing and loving. Oh, yeah, I’m definitely perking up. I’m getting downright sappy. Of course, there IS an awful lot to do in the next week… We’re renting a house/cottage/charming-sounding place in New York, approximately halfway between here and there, and our kids are ALL joining us. I think it will be great and noisy and chaotic and a little scary and great. I am starting the pies today.

Today I hung out with my nieces , Julianna and Sophia. I have evidence. One large glass vase full of “perfect” autumn leaves and four pinecones with “lots of sap! They need lots of sap!” I have no idea what made her think sap was a plus. I will be looking for tips in about a week; how does one best get sap off of glass? Nine apples, each with exactly one bite out of them. Nine. One bite each. Two index cards covered with glitter crayon portraits. Lower drawers of my office furniture… rearranged. A Dora the Explorer book and three others that I’m not sure I recognize. Cute ponies. Pastels. Sort of a small bruise-type thing under my left eye. That Sophie doesn’t know her own strength. What a great day!

Cape Cod Scrabble Tournament, 2005. Have I mentioned I love this game? I went 6-6 this tournament, and that says so very little about how the games actually went. Sometimes, just like in many other pursuits, I feel off or sluggish or just out of it. This weekend, I felt on. On on on. I felt fierce and smooth and sharp-edged. So take the six losses and feel that rush. Things just keep falling into place. My ex-mother-in-law, a woman I have always admired and always will, asked me how I was doing yesterday, and I said immediately that I am coming to a place of equilibrium and peace. Pretty amazing to feel this way; to an outsider, it must look very different. I’m heading into my forties, newly divorced, rather job-free (ha ha), living too far away from John… but we have the beginnings of plans and a base so solid you wouldn’t believe it even if I rambled on for hours, so I won’t! What is the next step? The question came from an unlikely source, but honestly, it is a great ques...

Sometimes life is exhausting . Even when it is good, it is exhausting. Some new additions: a super-duper mega-great zoom lens for my camera. I’m thinking of taking photography classes. You know, in my spare time. Sagan.

So tomorrow is a special day. It is John’s birthday. It will be the first time I get to be with him on his birthday, the first of many. It is probably no surprise that I think John is wonderful. He is very smart and funny and a tiny bit crazy -- crazy enough to think I’m great, for instance. He is a fellow magpie, pockets and shelves full of shiny finds. He plays with puns and poetry. He explains things better than anyone I have ever known. He is fun to be with on a rainy day, on a hike up a mountain in too much sun, in a shopping mall, on a long car ride. He has great ideas. Happy birthday, John. Thank you for sharing it with me.

Greg is getting married on Saturday. We are all still learning our roles in this new family situation. After some trial and error, Tina and I have discovered that talking through the blended children issues is best done by the two of us. We are both able to be direct, to put our vulnerabilities on the table, and just talk. We can do that. Mother to mother to stepmother. My respect for her grows. Our parenting styles are nearly opposite, but she is willing to listen, to remember that my role is vital, that I may be different, but different isn’t wrong. And I’m willing to do the same. She loves my children. She doesn’t always understand them. Well, neither do I. So the future is hard to make out, but it seems as though we are on the right path. Congrats, Greg and Tina. I wish you much joy and fun and love in your life together.

Daniel is living alone for the first time in his life. So I’m compiling some advice to him. Take care of yourself. This means more than just pampering yourself. Make sure you eat healthily. Buy fresh vegetables. Eat them. Clean sometimes. This is not for your guests, although they will appreciate it. This is for you. You deserve a nice environment. Cook a nice dinner for yourself once in a while. Eat it not in front of the computer. Pretend you are trying to impress someone. Make it tasty and beautiful. Don’t forget multivitamins. Enjoy time by yourself, but don’t forget other people -- for their sake and your own. Even hermits need human contact. Fresh air. Fresh air. Fresh air. Do something you love every day. Keep up with world events. Read a newspaper or check cnn every day. Seriously. I’m not sure if the Daily Show counts, but I won’t quibble. Hm. These are pretty good. I should make sure I’m following them all myself.

So I can finally talk about this without shuddering… much. There I was, innocently minding my own business, reading “Freakonomics” in the bathroom, and out of the corner of my eye I saw something run by. Curie and Sagan were both napping, so I was immediately alarmed. I thought maybe it was a mouse. (This should give you an idea of the size of the thing.) It was not a mouse. It was a centipede. It dashed into the laundry nook. “Aahh!” I said and looked around for help. No help was in sight. I believe in being prepared. I also believe in keeping an eye on my enemy. This presented a dilemma. I had to go find weapons without taking my eye off the creature. So I would run out of the bathroom, look around for something, anything -- where is a bazooka when I need one? -- and then race back in to see if he was still there. I did this several times. Finally, armed with a long piece of, well, bamboo (to poke with, of course), a bottle of bathroom cleaner, and a big cup, I advanced ...

Back in the old days , when Chris was learning to talk, I was still figuring out how to be a parent. I was really young, for one thing, and he was my third baby in 3 years. I suppose it is natural that at first I didn’t notice that he wasn’t talking much. Not much English, anyway. When the next baby came along, Chris was two years old. He spoke two English words, Mama and hi. By this point, I was quite aware that something was … different. This was a kid who was obviously bright. He could make complicated lego structures, inventions of his own and duplicates of ones he saw. He could take anything apart. But he didn’t speak our language. He did speak! It just wasn’t English or any other human language. He started small. He named the guys (his brothers and dad) variations of the word Ganh. It was pronounced in the back of his throat and sounded kind of primitive. Aaron was Green Ganh. Daniel was Brown Ganh. (Now, he didn’t use the color words at all when asked “what color...

A few weeks ago , Greg asked the kids three questions over dinner: Do you believe in God? Do you believe Jesus Christ was more than a man? Have you had an experience at any time in your life that made you realize God was real? So there they all were. Greg and Tina and the five ‘his and hers’ kids. Greg and Tina believe. At least one of Tina’s boys believes. My three are at various stages of figuring out what they believe -- but they know that Greg wants them to believe. They knew that after Greg gave his answers in the affirmative, after hearing Tina and Christopher give their answers in the affirmative, that Greg would be hoping that they would say yes, as well. They did not want to disappoint him. After a few minutes of silence -- a rather awkward silence, I’ve been told -- they answered truthfully. No. I’m proud of them -- not because of their answers, but because they told the truth even though they feared their dad’s reaction. And Greg was probably disappointed, but he d...

What should I pack in my evacuation kit? Assuming a disaster would allow me to pack my car, I have room for the animals. A duffle bag could hold: First aid kit (I keep a pretty decent one in the car anyway) Water Cash (paper and coin) Power bars and other concentrated food Animal food (check on concentrated forms) Cell phone and charger Knife Maps Change of clothes I’m trying to keep the above bag carryable. Not sure if that is feasible when dealing with animals. I will think about the animal plan. I generally keep a 24 pack of liters of water in the back of the car, which is not very carryable, either. With a little more time and space: Photo album Laptop (with manuscripts) (Actually this should just be a backup on CD, I guess) I like to be prepared.

Last night was the first meeting of the writing group. It is a quirky group. The other Odyssey grad seems like a good contact to have. He told me about a group led by Ted White near here. I’m thinking about looking into that one, too. I suppose I can’t be gone every evening. Anyway, this group (the one from last night) will force me to produce at least two pieces a month. That alone is worth the price of admission. Well, the price of gasoline, anyway.

This summer feels like a whirlwind even on days like today when I have not much more to do than recover from root canals and watch Scrabble nationals coverage online. (Yes, I said root canalS. I’m looking for sympathy! I am a major scaredy-cat when it comes to going to the dentist.) I’m getting ready to work hard in September. I’ve joined a new writing group, with at least one other Odyssey graduate, which I will begin on September 6. I have a lot of optimism. (I know, I keep saying I’m optimistic. Well, I am.)

What I Did On My Summer Vacation Picked berries. Went to a birthday party on a boat. Attended a nature conservation dedication. Tried to identify the birds of prey seen from the top of Mt. Lookout. (We think they were red-tailed hawks. Their scream was marvelous. I can still hear it.) Played clarinet duets! Picked berries. Snuck into Canada a couple of times. (This is a fairly verbatim transcript: Border official/guard/booth person: Where are you from? Us: Massachusetts, Virginia Border official/guard/booth person: Do you have anything like guns? Us: No. Border official/guard/booth person: Have a nice visit!) Ate. A. Ton. Waded to a little higher than my knees in that icy lake. Next visit I’ll go deeper. Came in second in the official sunset rock skipping competition. Took goofy pictures from the moving car. Picked berries. I had a wonderful time.