Today's blog is composed of forgotten bits of poetry from one of my many journals.
From Nov. 2005
The subtle process of poetry
Is lately rather lost to me
I scratch a few pathetic lines
Wishing for more inspired rhymes.
Always interrupted by dog or cat
Or by laundry, or supper, or such as that.
My work has dwindled down to naught
Or exists merely in the realm of thought.
From March, 2008
The quiet world
Is so rudely awakened
By the screech of my
Voice waking up and stretching.
Soon, if God is merciful, my throat
will clear,
The notes will come forth in their liquid brilliance
(As I promise you, they have done.)
Just now, though, unwelcome bits of allergy or sleep are
Making the notes squawk like an oboe
With a bad reed.
But when it works, oh, what joy,
What release.
The music flows out, warm and sweet and smooth,
Taking me soaring oh, so high.
Autumn Thoughts From a Few Years Back
Autumn has finally come - the trees are turning at last.
The days are bright but cool, the nights are actually cold.
Halloween is coming. The night of ghosts and frights.
We may be plagued with little goblins, but maybe not. Hard to say.
So many pictures lately of stylish, sleek, modern houses.
They look so cold and unfriendly to me.
I like cozy places.
Places with overstuffed furniture and lots of books ,
Lots of pillows and blankets
And a well-provisioned kitchen with a teakettle on the stove, and teacups and bowls and things handy.
Furnishings with history, things with love and memory attached;
Things that give a house a SOUL, make it a HOME.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
I Know I Should Make Myself Write, But...
It's late. I'm tired. I've been lurking around on social media sites wasting time. This is the second of three long days for me. I worked today, and then had Cathedral choir rehearsal this evening. Yesterday I didn't work, but I had Master Chorale rehearsal. I also have to work in voice practice on most days, and most days I don't manage to do it. Must not ignore the gift. Must work to make it better. I keep telling myself that.
I have been told I have a talent for poetry, and on some subjects I can write well. Most of the time I ramble.
When one has a talent, however rough, one is expected to make something of it. Music is beautiful, and transporting when you get it right. The hard work it takes to get it right is a very rough slog. Often quite painful. Vocal exercises, especially for a soprano, can be grueling, and you will have NO friends or family members left if they once hear you practice. (I've been told I peeled paint, but my voice coach said the effect she sought was wrought by those very irritating exercises.)
However, once you put in the work, and you get into a real piece of music, especially if it is one of the classics, you begin to feel at one with the whole universe. The music moves you, moves through you, reaches out to others, flows back to you - it's magical.
That experience can be had in choirs as well. It is even more meaningful because choral music is a group effort, you must listen to each other, and blend with each other. I am privileged to sing with an exceptional choir at St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral in Oklahoma City. Most of us in Cathedral choir have been singing together for many years now. We blend very well, we seem to pick up new things fairly quickly, and when we get to sing a piece we know well, it is a moving experience. It gives me goosebumps. Master Chorale has a lot of potential to be that good. If we all work a little more on our own with those large choral works, it will be easier to put together at rehearsals. We have a lot of good voices, and a fearless, determined director.
Writing for me has always been more of a challenge than anything musical. I can FEEL the music. The writing is also something I feel, but I haven't had a poem present itself to me in a long time. Most of my poetry is not that profound. It is just a shorter way to communicate a feeling or even a sort of emotional story. These blog posts have become more of a journal than anything else.
The hard slog of writing is even harder for me than the work of vocal exercises. I don't have a performance looming to force me to work, but I don't want that. It is a release of angst, a way to send a statement out into the universe saying "I feel this way. Have you ever felt this way?"
On rare occasions, the universe answers.
Tomorrow is my eight hour day at the library. I love my job, I love my coworkers, and I even love some of our customers, but eight hours on my feet is a LONG day. (Especially when you are a vintage work of art like myself!)
Here's hoping tomorrow is a productive day.
I have been told I have a talent for poetry, and on some subjects I can write well. Most of the time I ramble.
When one has a talent, however rough, one is expected to make something of it. Music is beautiful, and transporting when you get it right. The hard work it takes to get it right is a very rough slog. Often quite painful. Vocal exercises, especially for a soprano, can be grueling, and you will have NO friends or family members left if they once hear you practice. (I've been told I peeled paint, but my voice coach said the effect she sought was wrought by those very irritating exercises.)
However, once you put in the work, and you get into a real piece of music, especially if it is one of the classics, you begin to feel at one with the whole universe. The music moves you, moves through you, reaches out to others, flows back to you - it's magical.
That experience can be had in choirs as well. It is even more meaningful because choral music is a group effort, you must listen to each other, and blend with each other. I am privileged to sing with an exceptional choir at St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral in Oklahoma City. Most of us in Cathedral choir have been singing together for many years now. We blend very well, we seem to pick up new things fairly quickly, and when we get to sing a piece we know well, it is a moving experience. It gives me goosebumps. Master Chorale has a lot of potential to be that good. If we all work a little more on our own with those large choral works, it will be easier to put together at rehearsals. We have a lot of good voices, and a fearless, determined director.
Writing for me has always been more of a challenge than anything musical. I can FEEL the music. The writing is also something I feel, but I haven't had a poem present itself to me in a long time. Most of my poetry is not that profound. It is just a shorter way to communicate a feeling or even a sort of emotional story. These blog posts have become more of a journal than anything else.
The hard slog of writing is even harder for me than the work of vocal exercises. I don't have a performance looming to force me to work, but I don't want that. It is a release of angst, a way to send a statement out into the universe saying "I feel this way. Have you ever felt this way?"
On rare occasions, the universe answers.
Tomorrow is my eight hour day at the library. I love my job, I love my coworkers, and I even love some of our customers, but eight hours on my feet is a LONG day. (Especially when you are a vintage work of art like myself!)
Here's hoping tomorrow is a productive day.
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
An Unintentionally Lazy Day
Dear Universe,
I really did mean to get up and get a lot of things accomplished today. Unfortunately, Texas has very thoughtfully been sending us LOTS of cedar and juniper pollen, and well, getting my head into operational condition this morning was NOT easy.
I did, however, manage to dispose of a few crapalanches around the house. Funny, you can't really destroy a crapalanche, you just end up moving its parts around. The removal of the major crapalanche that was my desk has caused the growth and/or appearance of crapalanches in other areas. Most notably the side cabinet in my desk and the office closet. I have not been brave enough yet to tackle those, but I did remove one from my beside cabinet, and from the interior of the fireplace cupboard.
The walk was accomplished this morning, though due to the activities of the city's large waste removal truck (dubbed the Terminator) I had alter my route a bit and evidentlly Endomondo thought this crossing of the road shaved a LOT off my distance. My time was also a bit shorter, so maybe the silly thing was right for once.
The oil change for the car has been postponed yet again. I just didn't think driving all the way to Norman and sitting around in a Ford dealer's waiting room was in the cards for my pounding head today. By the time the head stopped pounding and I got the walk done, it was too late. I'm off Friday, we'll try again then.
Now I must do a few clerical things (like balance the checkbook with the last statement) and make some birthday cards for fellow staff members at the library. That is usually fun, but getting the printer to cooperate is sometimes a challenge. (This printer knows it is on the way out, as my laptop is now the only computer in the house that will speak to it. No Windows 7 drivers available for the poor thing.) So I guess this should be finished and the laptop hauled once again out of hibernation and set up. (I just got it put away after it kindly donated part of its stored memories to this new machine.) It was getting dust in it, it had sat upon the craptastic desk for so long.
Master Chorale rehearsal tonight. We are starting work on the Faure Requiem and the Rutter Requiem. (Pray for us.)
Thank you for your patience with me.
I really did mean to get up and get a lot of things accomplished today. Unfortunately, Texas has very thoughtfully been sending us LOTS of cedar and juniper pollen, and well, getting my head into operational condition this morning was NOT easy.
I did, however, manage to dispose of a few crapalanches around the house. Funny, you can't really destroy a crapalanche, you just end up moving its parts around. The removal of the major crapalanche that was my desk has caused the growth and/or appearance of crapalanches in other areas. Most notably the side cabinet in my desk and the office closet. I have not been brave enough yet to tackle those, but I did remove one from my beside cabinet, and from the interior of the fireplace cupboard.
The walk was accomplished this morning, though due to the activities of the city's large waste removal truck (dubbed the Terminator) I had alter my route a bit and evidentlly Endomondo thought this crossing of the road shaved a LOT off my distance. My time was also a bit shorter, so maybe the silly thing was right for once.
The oil change for the car has been postponed yet again. I just didn't think driving all the way to Norman and sitting around in a Ford dealer's waiting room was in the cards for my pounding head today. By the time the head stopped pounding and I got the walk done, it was too late. I'm off Friday, we'll try again then.
Now I must do a few clerical things (like balance the checkbook with the last statement) and make some birthday cards for fellow staff members at the library. That is usually fun, but getting the printer to cooperate is sometimes a challenge. (This printer knows it is on the way out, as my laptop is now the only computer in the house that will speak to it. No Windows 7 drivers available for the poor thing.) So I guess this should be finished and the laptop hauled once again out of hibernation and set up. (I just got it put away after it kindly donated part of its stored memories to this new machine.) It was getting dust in it, it had sat upon the craptastic desk for so long.
Master Chorale rehearsal tonight. We are starting work on the Faure Requiem and the Rutter Requiem. (Pray for us.)
Thank you for your patience with me.
Sunday, January 6, 2013
The Thing That Mystifies Me About Oklahoma
OK, as a girl born and raised in Los Angeles County, CA, I must admit that when the Air Force decided to send us to Oklahoma after four years in Germany, I was unhappy. I had all the usual stereotypes firmly in mind, and some of them are worse if you grew up in California, where "Okie" was often synonymous with "poor and backward."
After being here awhile, I realized that people here are not backward. They are very intelligent about this harsh land that they have been trying to tame for the last 100+ years. They are more astute observers of weather than anyone I have ever seen. The true pioneer spirit lives on here, also. Life can be tough, none know it better, and therefore, you take care of your neighbors when they need you because tomorrow you might need their help. The arts flourish in Oklahoma City and in Tulsa. Everywhere you go here you find people who are involved in music or in making other kinds of art. Yes, there are the redneck stereotypical people too, but fewer than you would expect. And even those folks will help a neighbor or a stranger in need.
This is what mystifies me about the politics currently in this state. Here are people who see a need and set about to fill it. They hear about a natural disaster, or a tragedy somewhere else, and they pray, and they send money, and often they go themselves and help feed people. Yet, the politicians they elect are most often the worst sort of cynical tea party curmudgeons you could ever hope to find.
Look at the voting on aid for victims of Sandy. It would greatly surprise me if there were not at least one group of Baptist men from Oklahoma who took their mobile kitchens out and fed people in that area. I would be astounded if folks here didn't reach out through their churches, and as individuals to send what they could to help. It's the way folks are here. (Look at the local response to the Murrah Bombing in 1995. The "Oklahoma Standard" was all about the way the greater community called and asked "What do you need?" and set about providing it.) Yet, our Congressional delegation, when asked to support funding for relief for the victims of a major storm, refused. How many times has Oklahoma had to ask for aid? Come on, folks, be consistent. Let some of the tax dollars you'll be paying anyway go toward something you would fund on your own as well. Help your neighbors. You have needed their help many times in the past, and you will again.
From the tone of the political rhetoric spewed by the delegation from Oklahoma, you would expect that people here are angry and unfriendly. It isn't so. They are kind, polite, friendly, the sort of people who, even in a big city, know the names of the people who wait on them regularly in local businesses, and ask after their families. The kind of folks who will stop to help a stranger change a tire.
This is a place where, even though it is a large metropolitan area, I can't go to the store without seeing a person who comes into the library where I work. My church is 10 miles away, in Oklahoma City, and still, I see people from church in the library. (And Episcopalians are certainly in the minority here.)
I just can't reconcile the tenor of the politics here with the behavior of the majority of the people.
After being here awhile, I realized that people here are not backward. They are very intelligent about this harsh land that they have been trying to tame for the last 100+ years. They are more astute observers of weather than anyone I have ever seen. The true pioneer spirit lives on here, also. Life can be tough, none know it better, and therefore, you take care of your neighbors when they need you because tomorrow you might need their help. The arts flourish in Oklahoma City and in Tulsa. Everywhere you go here you find people who are involved in music or in making other kinds of art. Yes, there are the redneck stereotypical people too, but fewer than you would expect. And even those folks will help a neighbor or a stranger in need.
This is what mystifies me about the politics currently in this state. Here are people who see a need and set about to fill it. They hear about a natural disaster, or a tragedy somewhere else, and they pray, and they send money, and often they go themselves and help feed people. Yet, the politicians they elect are most often the worst sort of cynical tea party curmudgeons you could ever hope to find.
Look at the voting on aid for victims of Sandy. It would greatly surprise me if there were not at least one group of Baptist men from Oklahoma who took their mobile kitchens out and fed people in that area. I would be astounded if folks here didn't reach out through their churches, and as individuals to send what they could to help. It's the way folks are here. (Look at the local response to the Murrah Bombing in 1995. The "Oklahoma Standard" was all about the way the greater community called and asked "What do you need?" and set about providing it.) Yet, our Congressional delegation, when asked to support funding for relief for the victims of a major storm, refused. How many times has Oklahoma had to ask for aid? Come on, folks, be consistent. Let some of the tax dollars you'll be paying anyway go toward something you would fund on your own as well. Help your neighbors. You have needed their help many times in the past, and you will again.
From the tone of the political rhetoric spewed by the delegation from Oklahoma, you would expect that people here are angry and unfriendly. It isn't so. They are kind, polite, friendly, the sort of people who, even in a big city, know the names of the people who wait on them regularly in local businesses, and ask after their families. The kind of folks who will stop to help a stranger change a tire.
This is a place where, even though it is a large metropolitan area, I can't go to the store without seeing a person who comes into the library where I work. My church is 10 miles away, in Oklahoma City, and still, I see people from church in the library. (And Episcopalians are certainly in the minority here.)
I just can't reconcile the tenor of the politics here with the behavior of the majority of the people.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
More New Year Stuff and Thoughts on Connectedness
So, one of the last things that happened in the old year was that my faithful desktop computer started having the unfortunate habit of rebooting itself without warning. (Often in the middle of a project.) I have been using my laptop (also not a spring chicken) for most of my writing and social networking, but the keyboard drives me nuts, and I couldn't really get decent video or sound on either machine. SO, I am now typing this on my brand-new, super deluxe desktop unit. It is a Toshiba, an all in one with all the important hardware in the monitor itself. It is a touch screen, but I have the wireless keyboard, (one of the best I have ever used) and the wireless mouse. It comes with a top quality dvd player and great sound. (It even has a remote control so I can watch my dvds from the comfy chair instead of the almost comfy desk chair. It is much easier to knit in the comfy chair. ) I have hope that the new computer will make me more likely to write in this blog, because it makes it much more pleasant to do so, but given my history, I will not hold my breath.
The other ongoing new thing is my attempt to use Twitter. I have successfully set up an account, and I have about 6 followers, about half of which are trying to sell me something. I "follow" a lot of people, mostly celebrities whose work I admire because I want to know what new project is coming up that I might want to see/hear/read. I have no idea if anything I mention these folks in ever gets to a place where they can see it. I often feel like I am talking to myself on Twitter. (This blog is pretty much that way, too. I don't think anybody much reads it but me.) That's OK, though. I was the youngest child by 12 years, so I spent a lot of time alone. I am used to talking to myself.
I would like to apologize to those I may have unintentionally bombarded with posts trying to get a link and a few words to explain it to go out together earlier today. Sheesh! I am far from a technological incompetent, but some software makes me feel that way. It is doubtful that Greg Francis or Ron Perlman will ever read my rambles here, but I AM sorry if my ineptitude made a nuisance of me. That is the last thing I would wish to do. All I was trying to do was help a friend, a screenwriter, who is part of a project that is eligible for a grant if they get enough "likes" for their video. Anne Lower is very talented, and deserves to catch a break right now. She has had successes, but I think this would mean a lot to her. Here's a link to the project As for my trying to help, you know what they say about good intentions...
OK, time for what I am SUPPOSED to be writing.
Walking yesterday morning and thinking about how the trees looked against the bright winter sky. Like fine black fingers reaching toward the crystal blue sky. The air was cold, crisp, and sweet. That is one thing I like about Oklahoma. Nowhere near as much crud in the air as there was in L.A. when I was growing up there. You can hear yourself think walking around a small suburban neighborhood in Moore, Oklahoma. There are noises, but in the mid-morning on a weekday, it is pretty quiet. The only exception is when the stupid train decides to come through. There is one exception to the clear air. Pollen. (Thanks ever so much, Texas, for sharing all your cedar pollen with us. I never had allergies before I moved to Oklahoma. I think maybe the smog killed the pollen in L.A., but I can't be sure... I left in '89.)
ANYWAY, as I was walking, I was thinking about how connected I seem to be to the community here. I work in the public library here in Moore, and though this is a large suburb, it still feels like a small town. Whenever I go out to the store, the gas station, the movie theater, (and we have a FABULOUS one The Moore Warren) I see library customers or coworkers. I see members of the church I attend at my library, even though the church is in downtown Oklahoma City, 10 miles away. St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral
We here in Central Oklahoma have been through a lot of tough times together in the almost 20 years I've lived here. The Murrah Bombing - see the memorial website - our church suffered 8 million dollars worth of damage, too. The May 3rd , 1999 tornado- Link to NOAA here -tore apart many lives here in Moore, and we lost quite a few library materials, but that was the least of our problems. In all these cases, people here responded with care and help for their neighbors in need. They also went to the government asking for help. This is what made me SO ASHAMED of our Oklahoma delegation to Congress when they refused to support aid for the victims of Hurricane Sandy. What horrendous hypocrisy. Just because they want to stamp their little feets and say they said "NO" to more government spending. Idiots! I am proud to say that I did not vote for ANY of them, where I had the chance, I voted for their opponents. It is difficult sometimes to be an educated and thinking person in Oklahoma, especially so if one must interact with the general public and remain civil. For the most part, though, folks here are extremely nice, and will not try to force their opinions and beliefs on you. The exceptions seem to run for office. Unfortunately, they often win.
All of these thoughts led me to the conclusion that the connection must reach beyond our town and our state, it must reach out to the whole country , and beyond that, to the world. We must do a better job of living those fine principles we claim to cherish. EVERYONE ON THE PLANET is our neighbor, and Christians, Jesus told us in no uncertain terms that we must love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our mind, and with all our spirit, AND OUR NEIGHBOR AS OURSELVES. "On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." Well, this year I am going to try and reach out to more of my neighbors like the victims of Sandy. I sent a donation to www.statenstrong.com, I posted the link and asked friends to help both on Facebook and on Twitter. I talked to people at work about it. The harder part of loving my neighbor will be to be tolerant and kind even to those who behave with intolerance and unkindness. Maybe an example is what they need. Everyone needs to be loved.
Please, if you happen to read this, go to StatenStrong and see what they are doing. Maybe send a little donation. Also, look around your own community, and maybe beyond, and see what you can do to make the connections a little better by helping, or even just spreading the word that help is needed. It's one of my resolutions this year.
The other ongoing new thing is my attempt to use Twitter. I have successfully set up an account, and I have about 6 followers, about half of which are trying to sell me something. I "follow" a lot of people, mostly celebrities whose work I admire because I want to know what new project is coming up that I might want to see/hear/read. I have no idea if anything I mention these folks in ever gets to a place where they can see it. I often feel like I am talking to myself on Twitter. (This blog is pretty much that way, too. I don't think anybody much reads it but me.) That's OK, though. I was the youngest child by 12 years, so I spent a lot of time alone. I am used to talking to myself.
I would like to apologize to those I may have unintentionally bombarded with posts trying to get a link and a few words to explain it to go out together earlier today. Sheesh! I am far from a technological incompetent, but some software makes me feel that way. It is doubtful that Greg Francis or Ron Perlman will ever read my rambles here, but I AM sorry if my ineptitude made a nuisance of me. That is the last thing I would wish to do. All I was trying to do was help a friend, a screenwriter, who is part of a project that is eligible for a grant if they get enough "likes" for their video. Anne Lower is very talented, and deserves to catch a break right now. She has had successes, but I think this would mean a lot to her. Here's a link to the project As for my trying to help, you know what they say about good intentions...
OK, time for what I am SUPPOSED to be writing.
Walking yesterday morning and thinking about how the trees looked against the bright winter sky. Like fine black fingers reaching toward the crystal blue sky. The air was cold, crisp, and sweet. That is one thing I like about Oklahoma. Nowhere near as much crud in the air as there was in L.A. when I was growing up there. You can hear yourself think walking around a small suburban neighborhood in Moore, Oklahoma. There are noises, but in the mid-morning on a weekday, it is pretty quiet. The only exception is when the stupid train decides to come through. There is one exception to the clear air. Pollen. (Thanks ever so much, Texas, for sharing all your cedar pollen with us. I never had allergies before I moved to Oklahoma. I think maybe the smog killed the pollen in L.A., but I can't be sure... I left in '89.)
ANYWAY, as I was walking, I was thinking about how connected I seem to be to the community here. I work in the public library here in Moore, and though this is a large suburb, it still feels like a small town. Whenever I go out to the store, the gas station, the movie theater, (and we have a FABULOUS one The Moore Warren) I see library customers or coworkers. I see members of the church I attend at my library, even though the church is in downtown Oklahoma City, 10 miles away. St. Paul's Episcopal Cathedral
We here in Central Oklahoma have been through a lot of tough times together in the almost 20 years I've lived here. The Murrah Bombing - see the memorial website - our church suffered 8 million dollars worth of damage, too. The May 3rd , 1999 tornado- Link to NOAA here -tore apart many lives here in Moore, and we lost quite a few library materials, but that was the least of our problems. In all these cases, people here responded with care and help for their neighbors in need. They also went to the government asking for help. This is what made me SO ASHAMED of our Oklahoma delegation to Congress when they refused to support aid for the victims of Hurricane Sandy. What horrendous hypocrisy. Just because they want to stamp their little feets and say they said "NO" to more government spending. Idiots! I am proud to say that I did not vote for ANY of them, where I had the chance, I voted for their opponents. It is difficult sometimes to be an educated and thinking person in Oklahoma, especially so if one must interact with the general public and remain civil. For the most part, though, folks here are extremely nice, and will not try to force their opinions and beliefs on you. The exceptions seem to run for office. Unfortunately, they often win.
All of these thoughts led me to the conclusion that the connection must reach beyond our town and our state, it must reach out to the whole country , and beyond that, to the world. We must do a better job of living those fine principles we claim to cherish. EVERYONE ON THE PLANET is our neighbor, and Christians, Jesus told us in no uncertain terms that we must love the Lord our God with all our heart, with all our mind, and with all our spirit, AND OUR NEIGHBOR AS OURSELVES. "On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." Well, this year I am going to try and reach out to more of my neighbors like the victims of Sandy. I sent a donation to www.statenstrong.com, I posted the link and asked friends to help both on Facebook and on Twitter. I talked to people at work about it. The harder part of loving my neighbor will be to be tolerant and kind even to those who behave with intolerance and unkindness. Maybe an example is what they need. Everyone needs to be loved.
Please, if you happen to read this, go to StatenStrong and see what they are doing. Maybe send a little donation. Also, look around your own community, and maybe beyond, and see what you can do to make the connections a little better by helping, or even just spreading the word that help is needed. It's one of my resolutions this year.
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Another New Year
Another New Year's Day, another Tournament of Roses Parade watched. This year, I am actually doing some of the cleaning I have vowed to do on this day. I have packed away most of the Christmas decorations, (early, I know, but I won't have time closer to Epiphany). I have started clearing out my office so I can actually do things in here without searching forever for what I need, or having to re-arrange the known universe in order to put something down. Also, my desktop computer died a couple of weeks ago, and I have been making do with this laptop. Matt has ordered my new computer, and it will require a different section of my desk space, so I am clearing as much off the top of the desk as possible.
This process always reminds me that I don't use my fountain pens as much as I should. They sit in their tray, all forlorn and probably in need of cleaning and new ink cartridges. I have a journal in my "reading basket" that needs attention, too. Also a poetry work notebook, and a small notebook of inspirations and writing exercises. My now neglected (yup, got Pandora on my phone) mp3 player is also in that basket. From time to time my very overworked Nook tablet lives on top of other things in that basket.
There are scores of cds of my vocal practice pieces in my cabinet that need to be organized, and there are three shelves of stuff in that cabinet that need to be reorganized and weeded. (Mostly books and cds.)
The stuff in the desk drawers needs to be gone through again, too. I know I will find my old stickers from TK Graphics in the back of the top drawer. There are numerous Star Trek related ones, and a couple of Beauty and the Beast stickers, too. A couple of general sci-fi fan sayings are in there, too. ("Two things are universal: Hydrogen and Stupidity." "Anything not nailed down is a cat toy" Opportunity knocks but once; Temptation pounds on the door constantly" "I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent." "Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.") These used to go on the envelopes of the letters we fans sent to each other back in those dark days before the Internet and email (or Facebook and Twitter.)
I dread this process, but I know I must begin it. I have the same paranoia my Pop always had. "As soon as I get rid of that, I'm going to need it." I am afraid my genes may work against me here. I come from a long line of packrats. I have used a lot of these things in the last year, just that there are too many things in here. Something's gotta give.
Sigh. Time to quit stalling and get back at it...
This process always reminds me that I don't use my fountain pens as much as I should. They sit in their tray, all forlorn and probably in need of cleaning and new ink cartridges. I have a journal in my "reading basket" that needs attention, too. Also a poetry work notebook, and a small notebook of inspirations and writing exercises. My now neglected (yup, got Pandora on my phone) mp3 player is also in that basket. From time to time my very overworked Nook tablet lives on top of other things in that basket.
There are scores of cds of my vocal practice pieces in my cabinet that need to be organized, and there are three shelves of stuff in that cabinet that need to be reorganized and weeded. (Mostly books and cds.)
The stuff in the desk drawers needs to be gone through again, too. I know I will find my old stickers from TK Graphics in the back of the top drawer. There are numerous Star Trek related ones, and a couple of Beauty and the Beast stickers, too. A couple of general sci-fi fan sayings are in there, too. ("Two things are universal: Hydrogen and Stupidity." "Anything not nailed down is a cat toy" Opportunity knocks but once; Temptation pounds on the door constantly" "I refuse to engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed opponent." "Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.") These used to go on the envelopes of the letters we fans sent to each other back in those dark days before the Internet and email (or Facebook and Twitter.)
I dread this process, but I know I must begin it. I have the same paranoia my Pop always had. "As soon as I get rid of that, I'm going to need it." I am afraid my genes may work against me here. I come from a long line of packrats. I have used a lot of these things in the last year, just that there are too many things in here. Something's gotta give.
Sigh. Time to quit stalling and get back at it...
Monday, December 24, 2012
Christmas Eve Already!
Good grief, where has this year gone? It seems like it was just New Year's, now it's Christmas again. I am not ready. I still have things to do. There are still packages to wrap, and cookie plates to set up, and oh, I am sure a dozen or so other things I SHOULD be doing.
There is also a snow storm threatening our city. At least this year it SHOULD let us have our Christmas Eve services without a problem Christmas Day service has already been cancelled at our church. It is supposed to be snowing and blowing already by then.
So much of my spiritual life is like this also. I am not ready. I am supposed to be preparing a place in my heart for the Christ child, waiting for the return of Christ, and I am floundering around beset by multiple details that always escape me. Time to focus and remember the important things. Love. Family. Friends. Neighbors. The people that are given to us to love and be loved by, that is what is important. The Internet has expanded that circle of love for me, and also made it easier to keep close to some of my far-flung friends and family. It is still somewhat impersonal, though, but it suits my more or less introverted nature better than large gatherings, or too many social occasions.
Speaking of those things I need to get done, I suppose I should end this. Just let me say that if you are brave enough to have read any of these blog posts, thank you, and I hope you enjoyed them.
There is also a snow storm threatening our city. At least this year it SHOULD let us have our Christmas Eve services without a problem Christmas Day service has already been cancelled at our church. It is supposed to be snowing and blowing already by then.
So much of my spiritual life is like this also. I am not ready. I am supposed to be preparing a place in my heart for the Christ child, waiting for the return of Christ, and I am floundering around beset by multiple details that always escape me. Time to focus and remember the important things. Love. Family. Friends. Neighbors. The people that are given to us to love and be loved by, that is what is important. The Internet has expanded that circle of love for me, and also made it easier to keep close to some of my far-flung friends and family. It is still somewhat impersonal, though, but it suits my more or less introverted nature better than large gatherings, or too many social occasions.
Speaking of those things I need to get done, I suppose I should end this. Just let me say that if you are brave enough to have read any of these blog posts, thank you, and I hope you enjoyed them.
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