I am at work and the tune "Praise the Lord and pass the Ammunition" is going through my head. There is no real reason why but I am wondering if it has something to to with Iraq or just work in general.
I am always amazed at how a song can transport me back to a time in my life. The memories attached to the song are crystal clear. In the past few days I have heard the following:
Round About/Yes- "borrowing" my older sister's Yes album, staring at the art work and being amazed by the song.
Baker Street/Gerry Rafferty - 7th grade pool party. First makeout session on a lounger by the pool.
Don't look Back/Boston - yellow corduroys, plaid levi's shirt sitting on David Nelson's lap in a big lounge chair, feeling triumphant that I got him yet very nervous about what was to come next.
Goodbye Stranger/Supertramp - just the very defiant nature and confidence of this song was my anthem in jr. high
James Taylor's Greatest Hits (Carolina in my Mind and Something in the Way she Moves) - Being in Buffalo and finding mascara on my boyfriend's pillow when I went for a visit. Laying there debating whether I should drive 3 hours back to Binghamton.
Kiss From a Rose/ Seal - 2 memories here, Being at a ballpark before anyone was there, and the sound was being tested. This song came on and I was lost in it. Warm summer day, standing on the field at Camden Yard enjoying the music. AND a snowy night in a hotel room with a non-boyfriend who told me that if we listened to that song while we were together, that I would never be able to hear it without thinking of him and that night. He was right.
Anything by Rush or Robert Earl Keen reminds me of my husband. Crazy how the two are NOTHING alike! I guess they represent him as boyfriend and then husband. :-)
More on music memories in another post, maybe I will swing through the eighties...how I loved my jean jacket and all the buttons I had on it!
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
The smell of wet earth
I love the day after a good rain. The air is fresh. The tree trunks are dark from the drenching. The grass and new growth glows with light green brilliance. I can't seem to walk from point A to point B without pulling a weed, flinging it across the driveway where it will wilt in the the sun and annoy my husband later. He likes a clean driveway. I like a weed free flower bed.
I spent last weekend moving plants that were not thriving when I originally planted them. After a day in the garden my hands look like I have gotten in a fight with a wet cat. If you have ever tried to bathe a cat, you know what I am talking about. I never seem to remember to wear gloves even though I have a wonderful long pair that go all the up to my elbows. Husband got me those for a birthday. I feel like a cowgirl gardener when I wear them, they just need some fringe on them. I also have a pair of thin deer skin ones. I can really feel the weeds and get way down in the dirt to yank their nasty deep roots out with them. But instead I end up with dirty fingernails, fire ant bites and scratches. Battle scars happily won in my gardens.
My neighbor had a big pile of cedar mulch delivered a few weeks ago. As I come home from work, I stare longingly at the big pile of mulch. I must have been doing this way too much because I had a dream about mulch. Nothing sexy but just that I have my own big beautiful pile of cedar mulch that I am going to lay on the garden. I finally confessed to my neighbor that I was coveting her mulch (not a sin according the the 10 commandments). She laughed and shared her source. I need to make that call today!!
I spent last weekend moving plants that were not thriving when I originally planted them. After a day in the garden my hands look like I have gotten in a fight with a wet cat. If you have ever tried to bathe a cat, you know what I am talking about. I never seem to remember to wear gloves even though I have a wonderful long pair that go all the up to my elbows. Husband got me those for a birthday. I feel like a cowgirl gardener when I wear them, they just need some fringe on them. I also have a pair of thin deer skin ones. I can really feel the weeds and get way down in the dirt to yank their nasty deep roots out with them. But instead I end up with dirty fingernails, fire ant bites and scratches. Battle scars happily won in my gardens.
My neighbor had a big pile of cedar mulch delivered a few weeks ago. As I come home from work, I stare longingly at the big pile of mulch. I must have been doing this way too much because I had a dream about mulch. Nothing sexy but just that I have my own big beautiful pile of cedar mulch that I am going to lay on the garden. I finally confessed to my neighbor that I was coveting her mulch (not a sin according the the 10 commandments). She laughed and shared her source. I need to make that call today!!
Monday, March 10, 2008
Monday Morning Blues
It was dark when I got up this morning. It was 7:23. I am not used to the time change yet. It was drizzling out but I could see impressive lightning coming our way from the north. Took a quick shower. And with hair still wet, hustled out to feed horses (well horse, while the other is training away from home). Good thing because the sky opened up and the rains came down hard just as I got to the feed shed. RAIN: reason # 14 why I never "do" my hair.
Husband volunteered to take sonny-boy into day care today so I had a whole half hour of adult music and dream time on the commute in. Unfortunately, the rain was so bad that I really could not retreat into dream world. Thank heavens for AWD!
So now I am at work trying to figure out how to leave the security of steady pay, family health benefits and a job I am not crazy about, to find out what I really want to do with my life. I wonder if I am being immature to think I should be able to find something I love to do and get paid to do it.
Husband volunteered to take sonny-boy into day care today so I had a whole half hour of adult music and dream time on the commute in. Unfortunately, the rain was so bad that I really could not retreat into dream world. Thank heavens for AWD!
So now I am at work trying to figure out how to leave the security of steady pay, family health benefits and a job I am not crazy about, to find out what I really want to do with my life. I wonder if I am being immature to think I should be able to find something I love to do and get paid to do it.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
It all starts here
So I have been wondering how many people create dialogues with real and imaginary people while driving to work, swimming laps or just daydreaming.
I do it all the time. I think it is a form of self therapy, much like blogging is. The purpose of this blog is to get my thoughts down into words. Solidify them. I don't think this will matter to anyone but me but that's fine.
I keep dreaming about a neighbor of mine. He is nice and not single. I am also nice and not single. In the dreams this does not matter one bit. Today I heard some things about him that made him more real, more human than the dream neighbor. nothing horrible but it just made me see that the grass is not greener on the other side of the fence.
In my imaginary conversation with him today he asked me about my relationship with my husband.
"I know he loves me"
"How long have you been together?"
"Geez, 15 years this Fall. Maybe we have become too comfortable with each other?"
"What would you like?"
"I want to be appreciated. I want him to do things to let me know I am appreciated. Not get flowers or anything but just little things."
"Such as?"
" Give me an ice cold beer, take the top off and wrap it in a napkin so my hand does not get wet, like you did last night. Or today when the landscape guy came by to give me an estimate, he took his sunglasses off to let me see his eyes. Maybe that is not appreciation but it was special in a way. Personal maybe."
"Have you told him any of this?"
"Have you ever tried to tell someone who is very sensitive that they are insensitive? They always put it back on you."
I do it all the time. I think it is a form of self therapy, much like blogging is. The purpose of this blog is to get my thoughts down into words. Solidify them. I don't think this will matter to anyone but me but that's fine.
I keep dreaming about a neighbor of mine. He is nice and not single. I am also nice and not single. In the dreams this does not matter one bit. Today I heard some things about him that made him more real, more human than the dream neighbor. nothing horrible but it just made me see that the grass is not greener on the other side of the fence.
In my imaginary conversation with him today he asked me about my relationship with my husband.
"I know he loves me"
"How long have you been together?"
"Geez, 15 years this Fall. Maybe we have become too comfortable with each other?"
"What would you like?"
"I want to be appreciated. I want him to do things to let me know I am appreciated. Not get flowers or anything but just little things."
"Such as?"
" Give me an ice cold beer, take the top off and wrap it in a napkin so my hand does not get wet, like you did last night. Or today when the landscape guy came by to give me an estimate, he took his sunglasses off to let me see his eyes. Maybe that is not appreciation but it was special in a way. Personal maybe."
"Have you told him any of this?"
"Have you ever tried to tell someone who is very sensitive that they are insensitive? They always put it back on you."
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