Nice Daily Om for today - let's dance!
http://www.dailyom.com/articles/2009/21400.html
12.17.2009
12.04.2009
reba dipped the ladle for a taste of her creation
I fortuitously made this last night and am having it for lunch again today while I watch the SNOW falling outside. Yes it is snowing in Houston for the second December in a row! This recipe makes a lot of soup and could easily be halved, but I have just learned it does reheat quite nicely. Posting the recipe on my blog so I don't forget how I made it. My broc/cheese soup recipe has been evolving for years but I think I got to the definitive version last night. Yum.
1 onion, chopped
3-4 stalks celery, chopped
3-4 carrots, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
2 heads broccoli, cut into large florets
1-2 T butter/marg
2-3 T flour
4 veggie bullion cubes
4 cups water
4 cups plain soy milk or milk
4 oz cream cheese, softened
4 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
For smoother soup, chop the onion, carrots and celery in a food processor.
Steam broccoli until dark green and soft (not al dente, needs to be done).
In a large soup pot, saute onion, carrots, celery, and garlic in butter or margarine until onions are soft and onions are translucent. Add water and bullion cubes and bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer while doing the next step.
In a small saucepan or skillet, whisk together flour and 1-2 cups of the milk. Stir or whisk often over medium heat until the mixture thickens and looks like cream gravy.
Add the milk/flour mixture and the rest of the milk to the soup pot. After this point you don't really want it to boil any more so keep the heat low-medium. Stir or whisk to mix well and avoid any lumps. Add the cream cheese and sharp cheddar and stir until all is melted. Add the broccoli and stir/mash (I use a potato masher for this step).
Season w/salt and pepper to taste.
1 onion, chopped
3-4 stalks celery, chopped
3-4 carrots, chopped
4 cloves garlic, minced or pressed
2 heads broccoli, cut into large florets
1-2 T butter/marg
2-3 T flour
4 veggie bullion cubes
4 cups water
4 cups plain soy milk or milk
4 oz cream cheese, softened
4 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
For smoother soup, chop the onion, carrots and celery in a food processor.
Steam broccoli until dark green and soft (not al dente, needs to be done).
In a large soup pot, saute onion, carrots, celery, and garlic in butter or margarine until onions are soft and onions are translucent. Add water and bullion cubes and bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer while doing the next step.
In a small saucepan or skillet, whisk together flour and 1-2 cups of the milk. Stir or whisk often over medium heat until the mixture thickens and looks like cream gravy.
Add the milk/flour mixture and the rest of the milk to the soup pot. After this point you don't really want it to boil any more so keep the heat low-medium. Stir or whisk to mix well and avoid any lumps. Add the cream cheese and sharp cheddar and stir until all is melted. Add the broccoli and stir/mash (I use a potato masher for this step).
Season w/salt and pepper to taste.
8.25.2009
Sunrise, sunset...
I got this email from BirthdayAlarm.com today. Jeez. I mean I didn't need a reminder but seeing it in print sure feels weird. I was 21 when Jordan was born. Can we take life off fast forward for a while? Maybe just a teeny little pause?
----------
April
Jordan's birthday is on Sunday August 30th. Jordan will be 21 years old.
Click below to choose one of our specially recommended birthday greeting cards and we will send it on Jordan's birthday...
http://www.BirthdayAlarm.com/
Kind Regards,
BirthdayAlarm.com
----------
April
Jordan's birthday is on Sunday August 30th. Jordan will be 21 years old.
Click below to choose one of our specially recommended birthday greeting cards and we will send it on Jordan's birthday...
http://www.BirthdayAlarm.com/
Kind Regards,
BirthdayAlarm.com
7.03.2009
I can't stand it but I can't do anything
So...at 10:56pm on Wednesday night I closed my blog saying "I'm really tired." I went to bed, couldn't sleep for a while and then it felt like I had just dozed off when I woke up to the sound of Jordan screaming "Help!" This was just after 1:00am. Spoiler alert: I'm still really tired.
After shaking off the haze Tim and I found Jordan on the floor of his bathtub with the shower as hot as it goes, shivering and moaning from pain and dry heaving uncontrollably. It was like some kind of heroin withdrawals, which I've only seen in movies, but that's how the rest of the night felt. We coaxed him out with towels and Tim dried him off while I averted my eyes and tried not to freak out and then we spent the next few hours in a bedside vigil while moaned and writhed and puked up electric green slime every 30 minutes like clockwork (despite a dose of phenergen at 2am). I held dreadlocks and wiped his face and rinsed the bucket while Tim called his friend Jesse to find out what the hell they'd been doing earlier that night (playing basketball, no food, no drugs, no drinking) and brought wet washcloths and went out for gatorade (blue, resulting in one slightly turquoise batch of slime). At 5:16 I called his doctor's answering service and was told to call back if I hadn't heard anything in 30 minutes. At 5:46 I called back and was told I should get a call back soon. Shortly after 6:00am his doctor called, listened to my story and sent us to the St. Luke's satellite emergency room thing on Holcombe.
I'll interject at this point that this is the same ER I visited twice during the 2006-2007 holidays when I was sick and my doctor was on vacation. I have nightmarish memories of myself writing in pain and puking uncontrollably and being miserable there while we missed Christmas and New Years and New Monsoon in Denver. I actually changed doctors and took my entire family to a clinic with four doctors on staff instead of one in hopes of avoiding that type of situation in the future. If you're thinking I was extremely unhappy to be sent back to the very same place with Jordan this morning, you're thinking right. Tim and I both had some pretty nasty dejavu going on.
So, we pack Jordan and his puke bucket and a towel into the car (because, you know, the van won't start right now) and head across town for the ER. Miraculously he didn't yack on the way. Luckily we beat the rush and had only one person ahead of us, so he managed to get into a room pretty quickly where he could lay back down. Mixed blessing there since he's 6'5" and the "beds" are about 5'10" but it was better than the chairs in the waiting room. They took blood and started an IV and we settled in for the next wait. He didn't have fever (good) and his blood pressure was normal (awesome) and he wasn't puking (zofran in the IV). They did an EKG which came back good. When the doctor finally came around with the results of his tests, he told us his levels related to the pancreas looked bad and he would need a CAT scan to check it. Next thing you know there's a new grumpy nurse pouring three huge glasses of "lemonade flavored" contrast fluid for him to drink. She tells him he needs to drink one glass, drink another in 30 minutes, and another 30 minutes after that and they'll come back to get him for the scan. I blurted out "Are you kidding me?" at that point, which I'm sure endeared all of us to Nurse Grumpy (we also had the sing-song Nurse Happy helping us to counteract it, which was working a little for me but apparently made Tim want to smash things, so there you go).
At best, that contrast stuff is pretty nasty. When you've been vomiting and heaving non-stop for almost 12 hours and haven't managed yet to keep down water, I don't think it's happening. We knew this instantly. It took one giant neon green puke, a dose of phenergen in the IV, and about an hour of "no, he hasn't been able to drink any more" to convince the ER staff. They finally put contrast into his IV (really? that was an option???) and wheeled him out and did the scan. I don't know exactly what they saw, but no cysts in the pancreas or liver, just the ones in the kidneys that we're well aware of already, so that was good news.
A couple of calls to his doctor and another hour or so later, we left with two prescriptions (one for pain, one for nausea) and a diagnosis of pancreatitis. He managed to keep down half a glass of water and stand up, so they decided we could take him home instead of to St. Luke's to admit him. He's supposed to have clear liquids for the next couple of days and go back to see his doc for more tests next week. No strenous exercise, no fatty foods (no tex-mex! that's the WWs #1 food group!), no alcohol. We dropped off the prescriptions on the way home and were all in bed and passed out by 11:00am.
When we all woke up around 4:00 he had a smoothie and some broth (miracle soup from Hunan Village -- the vegetarian wonton). He's held it all down since the contrast in the ER, and has eaten some jello and slept a lot and is even saying he's hungry now and is feeling much, much better. He hasn't even needed either of the prescriptions.
It's so hard to watch someone you love suffer and not be able to help them. I mean, I make a mean bowl of jello, so I guess I'm helping there, but all night long and for the hours in the ER it was just as excruciating as ever not to be able to make the hurt go away. Title today is a line from a Toad song that we just got to hear live on Tuesday night and that kept running through my head all morning.
"And you find yourself here in another room
where everything moves so slow, so tired...."
Yikes! I probably shouldn't end with that phrase again. I was going to, and it wasn't even planned. Listen up, universe, I was just quoting a lyric this time. Seriously.
After shaking off the haze Tim and I found Jordan on the floor of his bathtub with the shower as hot as it goes, shivering and moaning from pain and dry heaving uncontrollably. It was like some kind of heroin withdrawals, which I've only seen in movies, but that's how the rest of the night felt. We coaxed him out with towels and Tim dried him off while I averted my eyes and tried not to freak out and then we spent the next few hours in a bedside vigil while moaned and writhed and puked up electric green slime every 30 minutes like clockwork (despite a dose of phenergen at 2am). I held dreadlocks and wiped his face and rinsed the bucket while Tim called his friend Jesse to find out what the hell they'd been doing earlier that night (playing basketball, no food, no drugs, no drinking) and brought wet washcloths and went out for gatorade (blue, resulting in one slightly turquoise batch of slime). At 5:16 I called his doctor's answering service and was told to call back if I hadn't heard anything in 30 minutes. At 5:46 I called back and was told I should get a call back soon. Shortly after 6:00am his doctor called, listened to my story and sent us to the St. Luke's satellite emergency room thing on Holcombe.
I'll interject at this point that this is the same ER I visited twice during the 2006-2007 holidays when I was sick and my doctor was on vacation. I have nightmarish memories of myself writing in pain and puking uncontrollably and being miserable there while we missed Christmas and New Years and New Monsoon in Denver. I actually changed doctors and took my entire family to a clinic with four doctors on staff instead of one in hopes of avoiding that type of situation in the future. If you're thinking I was extremely unhappy to be sent back to the very same place with Jordan this morning, you're thinking right. Tim and I both had some pretty nasty dejavu going on.
So, we pack Jordan and his puke bucket and a towel into the car (because, you know, the van won't start right now) and head across town for the ER. Miraculously he didn't yack on the way. Luckily we beat the rush and had only one person ahead of us, so he managed to get into a room pretty quickly where he could lay back down. Mixed blessing there since he's 6'5" and the "beds" are about 5'10" but it was better than the chairs in the waiting room. They took blood and started an IV and we settled in for the next wait. He didn't have fever (good) and his blood pressure was normal (awesome) and he wasn't puking (zofran in the IV). They did an EKG which came back good. When the doctor finally came around with the results of his tests, he told us his levels related to the pancreas looked bad and he would need a CAT scan to check it. Next thing you know there's a new grumpy nurse pouring three huge glasses of "lemonade flavored" contrast fluid for him to drink. She tells him he needs to drink one glass, drink another in 30 minutes, and another 30 minutes after that and they'll come back to get him for the scan. I blurted out "Are you kidding me?" at that point, which I'm sure endeared all of us to Nurse Grumpy (we also had the sing-song Nurse Happy helping us to counteract it, which was working a little for me but apparently made Tim want to smash things, so there you go).
At best, that contrast stuff is pretty nasty. When you've been vomiting and heaving non-stop for almost 12 hours and haven't managed yet to keep down water, I don't think it's happening. We knew this instantly. It took one giant neon green puke, a dose of phenergen in the IV, and about an hour of "no, he hasn't been able to drink any more" to convince the ER staff. They finally put contrast into his IV (really? that was an option???) and wheeled him out and did the scan. I don't know exactly what they saw, but no cysts in the pancreas or liver, just the ones in the kidneys that we're well aware of already, so that was good news.
A couple of calls to his doctor and another hour or so later, we left with two prescriptions (one for pain, one for nausea) and a diagnosis of pancreatitis. He managed to keep down half a glass of water and stand up, so they decided we could take him home instead of to St. Luke's to admit him. He's supposed to have clear liquids for the next couple of days and go back to see his doc for more tests next week. No strenous exercise, no fatty foods (no tex-mex! that's the WWs #1 food group!), no alcohol. We dropped off the prescriptions on the way home and were all in bed and passed out by 11:00am.
When we all woke up around 4:00 he had a smoothie and some broth (miracle soup from Hunan Village -- the vegetarian wonton). He's held it all down since the contrast in the ER, and has eaten some jello and slept a lot and is even saying he's hungry now and is feeling much, much better. He hasn't even needed either of the prescriptions.
It's so hard to watch someone you love suffer and not be able to help them. I mean, I make a mean bowl of jello, so I guess I'm helping there, but all night long and for the hours in the ER it was just as excruciating as ever not to be able to make the hurt go away. Title today is a line from a Toad song that we just got to hear live on Tuesday night and that kept running through my head all morning.
"And you find yourself here in another room
where everything moves so slow, so tired...."
Yikes! I probably shouldn't end with that phrase again. I was going to, and it wasn't even planned. Listen up, universe, I was just quoting a lyric this time. Seriously.
7.01.2009
don't stop 'til you get enough
Here's what I did in the past week, as in the 7 days preceding this one...some of it in order, some not:
I'm really tired.
- worked 1/2 a day then threw my sparkly stuff in a backpack and flew to Denver
- saw the String Cheese Incident private sound check show at the Ogden Theater with Tim, Jordan, Randy and about 896 more of my closest friends (and it was soooooo sweet)
- had a lovely lunch at Pete's Kitchen in Denver with Tim, Jord, Rdub, Doo & Laura
- got stuck on the plane for almost 2 hours at the Denver airport waiting for the thunderstorm to stop so our flight could take off
- made a scary emergency landing in Oklahoma City met by fire trucks on the runway because "we've lost the auto-pilot, auto-thrusters, and several other systems, and that's all the information we're going to give you at this time" (that was our captain speaking ladies and gentlemen)
- spent hours in the Will Rogers World Airport with Frontier trying to figure out what to do with us after our plane hadn't actually crashed, then the last part of the night at a hotel they finally managed to put us up in
- read My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult (why would I do that to myself???)
- flew back to Houston on what I hope was my final flight on Frontier...
- took a really, really long nap
- had one last dinner with Jen and cried when she left my driveway on her way out of Houston
- saw Moses Guest rock the Continental Club with their new drummer
- partied with my peeps until about 4am after the MG show because I live at the party house and it happens whether I want it to or not
- watched hours of Michael Jackson videos on VH-1 Classic
- worked worked worked trying to keep my new project on schedule (it almost is!)
- went with Tim to pick up our antique lawyer's library back from Tamara's house and spent some time talking to her mom and Christy in the empty house and missing her more than ever
- slept past 9:30am for the first time in as long as I can remember
- met with my focus group clients for an and a half in spite of my geeky headset being broken
- turned down an offer for one of our favorite DJs to play my backyard in August (too hot out there in the party shack in the summertime....boooooo)
- tentatively booked another Susan Gibson show for October - YES!
- went on a Rock Band tour AND shopping spree with Jord, Tim, Stine, Hoops and Salak
- learned that I enjoy Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka quite a lot with Sprite, but not as much with snowcones...not because it doesn't taste good but because of the headache later
- saw Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix and realized that I've never seen the one before it so I'm sure glad I at least read them in order
- had a blast at the Toad the Wet Sprocket show at House of Blues (it's true, I actually had fun at the HoB)
I'm really tired.
5.29.2009
Feelin' Free
Tamara just came to tell me goodbye.
I was listening to Michael Franti, again, thinking of her. Everyone who knows Tamara has heard Franti (and most of her friends have CDs to prove it), and the WWs can proudly take credit for turning her on to him and sharing a love for his music and message. Today is a beautiful sunny Friday and the last day of school for teachers. Tam would be stopping by later today to celebrate with Tim, I'm quite certain. The official start of summer calls for some PT (porch time)! Tim took Songs from the Front Porch to play in the van, so I had to move to another CD. Yesterday was Yell Fire, today Everyone Deserves Music. I put it into our big stereo in the front room, not the little one I normally use, because I was in the front room typing at the red desk and not in working in my office. Four songs into the CD is Never Too Late. The first verse goes:
Don't fear your best friends
Because a best friend would never try to do you wrong
And don't fear your worst friends
Because a worst friend's just a best friend, that's done you wrong
Don't fear the nighttime
'Cause the monsters know that you're divine
And at that point, it stopped. The CD stopped playing for about 10-15 seconds. I was about to get up and see what was happening when it started playing again right where it left off.
Don't fear the sunshine
'Cause everything is better, in the summertime, summertime
And then it stopped again. I waited. I kept typing. I waited longer. I laughed a little and said "Tamara!" out loud and it started up again. Immediately. With the chorus, that goes:
It's never too late, to start the day over
It's never too late to pick up the phone
It's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulder
It's never too late to come on home, come on home
I cried my way through the rest of the song and listened while Franti and Tam reminded me not to be afraid and to make sure everyone I love knows it. Here are the rest of the words:
Don't fear the water
'Cause you can swim inside you within your skin
Don't fear your father
'Cause a father's just a boy without a friend
Don't fear to walk slow
Don't be a horse race, be a marathon
Don't fear the long road
'Cause on the long road you got a long time to sing a simple song, sing along
It's never too late, to start the day over
It's never too late to pick up the phone
It's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulder
It's never too late to come on home, come on home
Don't fear your teacher
'Cause if you listen, you can hear music in a school bell
Don't fear your preacher
If he can't find heaven in a prison cell
Don't fear your own self
Payin' money to justify your worth
Don't fear your family
Because you chose them a long time before your birth
It's never too late, to start the day over
It's never too late to pick up the phone
It's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulder
It's never too late to come on home, come on home
Hold to your children
Hold to your children
Hold to your children
Let 'em know
The CD played on and I went into the bedroom to get my cell phone and found a message from my mom, who had called while I was in the shower this morning to tell me that my sister Amy had told her about Tamara and she was calling to offer the three of us love. My mom knows exactly how much Tamara means to this family and I could hear in her voice that she is, like any mom, truly feeling my pain. I started to cry finally. I've been the one in shock, leaking little tears here and there while Tim and Jordan have sobbed and I have been the shoulder. But it was time for me to cry now and I was home alone, broken, sobbing on the bed listening to Franti. And then, again, I wasn't. The CD had stopped and I wasn't sure how long I'd been crying in the silence. I went to see what was going on and it had apparently skipped several tracks. Still not playing, but it was stuck on track 7. I grabbed the CD cover to find that Track 7 is Love, Why Did You Go Away? It wasn't playing...just stuck there, but the song of course was singing in my head "We really wanted you to know, we never wanted you to go..."
At this point I was sure it was Tam and not my CD or CD player, but just in case there was any doubt, I left it alone. I sat on the bed again and cried a little more and wondered if I should call Tim. And then the music started again. Not Track 7 or 8 but at the beginning of Track 9, which played through to the end. Track 9 is Feelin' Free. I've always loved that song because of the infectious, exuberant chorus and never paid so much attention to the lyrics of the verses. But this time, I did, and this is what they say.
I want to thank you for the seeds you've planted in me
I want to thank you for the earth that roots my feet
I want to thank you for the sun that greens my leaves
I want to thank you for the mystery, mystery
But it seems to me that I'm about to be Feelin' Free now
Take a bow when you feel like a superstar
Shake your pants when you show what you feel inside your heart
Throw your hands in the air when you feel like love is your need
When you can't feel a thing just hold on to me
Please remember me when I close my eyes
Please remember me when I scream my silent cries
Will you remember me when I'm not doing my best
Will you remember me when my spirit needs to rest
And it seems to me that I'm about to be Feelin' Free now
Take a bow when you feel like a superstar
Shake your pants when you show what you feel inside your heart
Throw your hands in the air when you feel like love is your need
When you can't feel a thing just hold on to me
I danced and cried and danced and laughed and danced around the living room in the sunshine through the rest of Feelin' Free and Love Invincible that followed and shook my pants and and took a bow and threw my hands in the air and sang out loud and yes, Tamara, of course, yes, I will always remember you. Always teaching, this time another lesson for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"Touch us with the morning sun, when we feel impossible, show us what is possible, teach us love invincible."
I was listening to Michael Franti, again, thinking of her. Everyone who knows Tamara has heard Franti (and most of her friends have CDs to prove it), and the WWs can proudly take credit for turning her on to him and sharing a love for his music and message. Today is a beautiful sunny Friday and the last day of school for teachers. Tam would be stopping by later today to celebrate with Tim, I'm quite certain. The official start of summer calls for some PT (porch time)! Tim took Songs from the Front Porch to play in the van, so I had to move to another CD. Yesterday was Yell Fire, today Everyone Deserves Music. I put it into our big stereo in the front room, not the little one I normally use, because I was in the front room typing at the red desk and not in working in my office. Four songs into the CD is Never Too Late. The first verse goes:
Don't fear your best friends
Because a best friend would never try to do you wrong
And don't fear your worst friends
Because a worst friend's just a best friend, that's done you wrong
Don't fear the nighttime
'Cause the monsters know that you're divine
And at that point, it stopped. The CD stopped playing for about 10-15 seconds. I was about to get up and see what was happening when it started playing again right where it left off.
Don't fear the sunshine
'Cause everything is better, in the summertime, summertime
And then it stopped again. I waited. I kept typing. I waited longer. I laughed a little and said "Tamara!" out loud and it started up again. Immediately. With the chorus, that goes:
It's never too late, to start the day over
It's never too late to pick up the phone
It's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulder
It's never too late to come on home, come on home
I cried my way through the rest of the song and listened while Franti and Tam reminded me not to be afraid and to make sure everyone I love knows it. Here are the rest of the words:
Don't fear the water
'Cause you can swim inside you within your skin
Don't fear your father
'Cause a father's just a boy without a friend
Don't fear to walk slow
Don't be a horse race, be a marathon
Don't fear the long road
'Cause on the long road you got a long time to sing a simple song, sing along
It's never too late, to start the day over
It's never too late to pick up the phone
It's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulder
It's never too late to come on home, come on home
Don't fear your teacher
'Cause if you listen, you can hear music in a school bell
Don't fear your preacher
If he can't find heaven in a prison cell
Don't fear your own self
Payin' money to justify your worth
Don't fear your family
Because you chose them a long time before your birth
It's never too late, to start the day over
It's never too late to pick up the phone
It's never too late to lay your head down on my shoulder
It's never too late to come on home, come on home
Hold to your children
Hold to your children
Hold to your children
Let 'em know
The CD played on and I went into the bedroom to get my cell phone and found a message from my mom, who had called while I was in the shower this morning to tell me that my sister Amy had told her about Tamara and she was calling to offer the three of us love. My mom knows exactly how much Tamara means to this family and I could hear in her voice that she is, like any mom, truly feeling my pain. I started to cry finally. I've been the one in shock, leaking little tears here and there while Tim and Jordan have sobbed and I have been the shoulder. But it was time for me to cry now and I was home alone, broken, sobbing on the bed listening to Franti. And then, again, I wasn't. The CD had stopped and I wasn't sure how long I'd been crying in the silence. I went to see what was going on and it had apparently skipped several tracks. Still not playing, but it was stuck on track 7. I grabbed the CD cover to find that Track 7 is Love, Why Did You Go Away? It wasn't playing...just stuck there, but the song of course was singing in my head "We really wanted you to know, we never wanted you to go..."
At this point I was sure it was Tam and not my CD or CD player, but just in case there was any doubt, I left it alone. I sat on the bed again and cried a little more and wondered if I should call Tim. And then the music started again. Not Track 7 or 8 but at the beginning of Track 9, which played through to the end. Track 9 is Feelin' Free. I've always loved that song because of the infectious, exuberant chorus and never paid so much attention to the lyrics of the verses. But this time, I did, and this is what they say.
I want to thank you for the seeds you've planted in me
I want to thank you for the earth that roots my feet
I want to thank you for the sun that greens my leaves
I want to thank you for the mystery, mystery
But it seems to me that I'm about to be Feelin' Free now
Take a bow when you feel like a superstar
Shake your pants when you show what you feel inside your heart
Throw your hands in the air when you feel like love is your need
When you can't feel a thing just hold on to me
Please remember me when I close my eyes
Please remember me when I scream my silent cries
Will you remember me when I'm not doing my best
Will you remember me when my spirit needs to rest
And it seems to me that I'm about to be Feelin' Free now
Take a bow when you feel like a superstar
Shake your pants when you show what you feel inside your heart
Throw your hands in the air when you feel like love is your need
When you can't feel a thing just hold on to me
I danced and cried and danced and laughed and danced around the living room in the sunshine through the rest of Feelin' Free and Love Invincible that followed and shook my pants and and took a bow and threw my hands in the air and sang out loud and yes, Tamara, of course, yes, I will always remember you. Always teaching, this time another lesson for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"Touch us with the morning sun, when we feel impossible, show us what is possible, teach us love invincible."
5.20.2009
what a good girl
I wake up scared, I wake up strange,
I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever gonna change...
I wake up wondering if anything in my life is ever gonna change...
5.14.2009
Excuses, excuses, what's the matter with me?
I just have to post something. January?!
I've been blogging away, just not for myself, but for my incarcerated friend Freddie. He's spent a month in Harris County Jail waiting to be transferred to TDC and mailed me journal entries to post. See http://friendsofffreddie.blogspot.com for more on that. So there's one little excuse. I like to try to call them reasons but they sound more like excuses. And who am I even making excuses to? Myself I guess, I mean it's not like anyone else is reading this. Ah well.
Another excu...er, reason for the non-posts is that I wrote a few that never saw the light of day. I have this thing where I don't like to post when I'm crazy. Go figure! So instead of blogging about it I've just been quietly having my midlife crisis, or a nervous breakdown, or something of the sort.
So I do have good things to say tonight. It's NEW MONSOON WEEKEND! Two nights of my favorite band at one of the most fun venues ever, which, astoundingly, is here in Houston. Yay for Monsoon at the Cafe!
Tapir asked us to host a preparty here in the party shack out back featuring music by none other than the Psychodillos. It's the return of the hippie stage mom! Jordan is the 'dillos bass player. My kid has the funk.
The party shack out back aka Club DubDub aka the infamous Jellyphish Lounge is having a big month. I just had a personal moment of awesomeness out there last weekend when one of my all time favorite musicians -- Susan Gibson -- literally played my own back yard. Holy crap! Seriously. I'm kind of still in awe. And look at this, she even inspired me to blog. I guess I should really thank Jpo the SuperMerchGirl! Here's the poster April (not me, Wilcox) did for that show.
Big big weekend ahead!
I've been blogging away, just not for myself, but for my incarcerated friend Freddie. He's spent a month in Harris County Jail waiting to be transferred to TDC and mailed me journal entries to post. See http://friendsofffreddie.blogspot.com for more on that. So there's one little excuse. I like to try to call them reasons but they sound more like excuses. And who am I even making excuses to? Myself I guess, I mean it's not like anyone else is reading this. Ah well.
Another excu...er, reason for the non-posts is that I wrote a few that never saw the light of day. I have this thing where I don't like to post when I'm crazy. Go figure! So instead of blogging about it I've just been quietly having my midlife crisis, or a nervous breakdown, or something of the sort.
So I do have good things to say tonight. It's NEW MONSOON WEEKEND! Two nights of my favorite band at one of the most fun venues ever, which, astoundingly, is here in Houston. Yay for Monsoon at the Cafe!
Tapir asked us to host a preparty here in the party shack out back featuring music by none other than the Psychodillos. It's the return of the hippie stage mom! Jordan is the 'dillos bass player. My kid has the funk.
The party shack out back aka Club DubDub aka the infamous Jellyphish Lounge is having a big month. I just had a personal moment of awesomeness out there last weekend when one of my all time favorite musicians -- Susan Gibson -- literally played my own back yard. Holy crap! Seriously. I'm kind of still in awe. And look at this, she even inspired me to blog. I guess I should really thank Jpo the SuperMerchGirl! Here's the poster April (not me, Wilcox) did for that show.
Big big weekend ahead!
1.25.2009
son, can you play me a memory?
Look what moved into our house this weekend!!! A baby grand piano!!!!
Linda & Don (Tim's parents) were getting rid of it, about to sell it in a garage sale, when I asked if we could please pretty please have it and she said yes. I can't thank them enough! (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) And great big thanks to Tim for letting it move in with us. You rock, honey.
It's been years since I had a piano in my house and I couldn't be more excited. Yes, I play...well sort of. I took piano lessons for years, starting in first grade and ending sometime in high school...most of that time under duress (but thanks, Mom and the infinitely patient Mrs. Maher). I was never great, but I could play well enough as long as someone forced me to practice (again, thanks Mom). I even accompanied my junior high and high school and church choirs on a few songs before it was all said and done. One summer in college (the first time, at Trinity) I took private piano lessons from the amazing Andrew Mihalso, who pushed me beyond what I thought my limits were and taught me once again that if I practice, I can play. Which leads me to the conclusion that I have another new year's resolution to add to my list this year: Practice the piano. (OMG! Am I 9?)
[Actually I have two to add to the list because I forgot this one: Get a passport. I know, right?]
I've been sad for years that we didn't have a piano in the house while Jordan was growing up. I wanted my turn to be the mom that forced him to practice and suffered my way though years of torture hearing him sullenly plink and plunk away. I wanted this because I suspected the musical talent that was lurking inside him, that didn't make its way out until he picked up a guitar in the 8th grade. I'm still bummed he didn't get force fed the music theory and foundation that piano lessons would have given him, but I'm so glad he'll have a little time in the house with this piano before he flies the nest. I even have a milk crate full of dusty old piano lesson books collected from my mom, myself, and my little sister Amy (also forced through years of lessons, but fewer years than me because somehow she always got her way better than I did). Come to think of it, Jordan does owe me a makeup piano class (does he EVER). Maybe I'll make him sit through one from me.
My childhood piano, which was my mom's childhood piano first, ended up back at Nana's house and then briefly in storage until it finally settled in Mom & Mario's garage. For the past several years I had been waging a campaign to get that piano; first with my mother, who didn't want to part with it, and then with my husband, who thought it was too unattractive to have in our house. It was just an old console piano and wasn't in the greatest shape, but it was a piano! I finally convinced him I could work it in and we were working on finding movers when we had to move out of our house on Cranston and into this one. After that I had to start over with the convincing, and in the meantime Hurricane Ike came calling and the piano was just one of the many things that sat under five feet of seawater in that garage when the storm surge hit Galveston's West End. I finally had to let it go...no piano for me. Four short months later, my in-laws have a freak fire, a giant garage sale, and there is a baby grand in the corner of my living room. Life is full of surprises!
Besides being excited about playing again and Jordan having the chance to learn to play, I have another reason to be stoked about a baby grand in the house: this place attracts more than its fair share of talented musicians. If you're someone who has enjoyed musical magic here with me, stop and think about the potential ivory ticklers you may get to witness up close and personal. I bet you have the same smile on your face that I do as I'm writing this. Let's hope there are tapers in the house.
When the piano got here on Saturday, I opened the bench to find it full of an odd collection of music, as old piano benches are wont to be. I've said before that I don't believe in meaningless coincidences, yes? Included in the random lesson books and sheet music, most of which looks like it came with the piano when the in-laws bought it, are several things that made me gasp in astonishment. The two that got me the most:
1) Songs for the Shepherd by Keith Green, an amazing collection of beautiful music that was a favorite of my Texas fam for years. We owned this book once but lost it somewhere along the way, maybe in our own piano bench. Amy and Mom, I have a new (old) copy!
2) Mozart's "Ah, vouse dirai-je, Maman" 12 Variations for Piano. Better known as Mozart's 12 variations on the tune to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Best known to me (and Mom!) as the piece that Dr. Mihalso had me learn for my piano recital at the end of that summer at Trinity. Are you freaking KIDDING me?
It is definitely time to practice!
Linda & Don (Tim's parents) were getting rid of it, about to sell it in a garage sale, when I asked if we could please pretty please have it and she said yes. I can't thank them enough! (THANK YOU AGAIN!!!) And great big thanks to Tim for letting it move in with us. You rock, honey.
It's been years since I had a piano in my house and I couldn't be more excited. Yes, I play...well sort of. I took piano lessons for years, starting in first grade and ending sometime in high school...most of that time under duress (but thanks, Mom and the infinitely patient Mrs. Maher). I was never great, but I could play well enough as long as someone forced me to practice (again, thanks Mom). I even accompanied my junior high and high school and church choirs on a few songs before it was all said and done. One summer in college (the first time, at Trinity) I took private piano lessons from the amazing Andrew Mihalso, who pushed me beyond what I thought my limits were and taught me once again that if I practice, I can play. Which leads me to the conclusion that I have another new year's resolution to add to my list this year: Practice the piano. (OMG! Am I 9?)
[Actually I have two to add to the list because I forgot this one: Get a passport. I know, right?]
I've been sad for years that we didn't have a piano in the house while Jordan was growing up. I wanted my turn to be the mom that forced him to practice and suffered my way though years of torture hearing him sullenly plink and plunk away. I wanted this because I suspected the musical talent that was lurking inside him, that didn't make its way out until he picked up a guitar in the 8th grade. I'm still bummed he didn't get force fed the music theory and foundation that piano lessons would have given him, but I'm so glad he'll have a little time in the house with this piano before he flies the nest. I even have a milk crate full of dusty old piano lesson books collected from my mom, myself, and my little sister Amy (also forced through years of lessons, but fewer years than me because somehow she always got her way better than I did). Come to think of it, Jordan does owe me a makeup piano class (does he EVER). Maybe I'll make him sit through one from me.
My childhood piano, which was my mom's childhood piano first, ended up back at Nana's house and then briefly in storage until it finally settled in Mom & Mario's garage. For the past several years I had been waging a campaign to get that piano; first with my mother, who didn't want to part with it, and then with my husband, who thought it was too unattractive to have in our house. It was just an old console piano and wasn't in the greatest shape, but it was a piano! I finally convinced him I could work it in and we were working on finding movers when we had to move out of our house on Cranston and into this one. After that I had to start over with the convincing, and in the meantime Hurricane Ike came calling and the piano was just one of the many things that sat under five feet of seawater in that garage when the storm surge hit Galveston's West End. I finally had to let it go...no piano for me. Four short months later, my in-laws have a freak fire, a giant garage sale, and there is a baby grand in the corner of my living room. Life is full of surprises!
Besides being excited about playing again and Jordan having the chance to learn to play, I have another reason to be stoked about a baby grand in the house: this place attracts more than its fair share of talented musicians. If you're someone who has enjoyed musical magic here with me, stop and think about the potential ivory ticklers you may get to witness up close and personal. I bet you have the same smile on your face that I do as I'm writing this. Let's hope there are tapers in the house.
When the piano got here on Saturday, I opened the bench to find it full of an odd collection of music, as old piano benches are wont to be. I've said before that I don't believe in meaningless coincidences, yes? Included in the random lesson books and sheet music, most of which looks like it came with the piano when the in-laws bought it, are several things that made me gasp in astonishment. The two that got me the most:
1) Songs for the Shepherd by Keith Green, an amazing collection of beautiful music that was a favorite of my Texas fam for years. We owned this book once but lost it somewhere along the way, maybe in our own piano bench. Amy and Mom, I have a new (old) copy!
2) Mozart's "Ah, vouse dirai-je, Maman" 12 Variations for Piano. Better known as Mozart's 12 variations on the tune to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Best known to me (and Mom!) as the piece that Dr. Mihalso had me learn for my piano recital at the end of that summer at Trinity. Are you freaking KIDDING me?
It is definitely time to practice!
1.23.2009
don't give up on me, I won't give up on you
Michael Franti singing Hey Now at the Peace Ball 2009...inspiring and challenging. Of course I totally love his story about the helicopter taking off. Hey hey hey, goodbye!
And from last night's Daily Show, here's what Fox "News" has to say about President Obama. Like John said, HOLY #*%$!!!! And Rush Limbaugh, do you even HEAR yourself talk any more??? Must be the pain pills... too bad they don't keep him from causing pain. Oh yeah and sorry in advance for the graphic at the end (although MY mental picture, to be honest, was much worse).
Yes we did, and yes we can. But let's not forget that almost half of the country would apparently rather we didn't.
And from last night's Daily Show, here's what Fox "News" has to say about President Obama. Like John said, HOLY #*%$!!!! And Rush Limbaugh, do you even HEAR yourself talk any more??? Must be the pain pills... too bad they don't keep him from causing pain. Oh yeah and sorry in advance for the graphic at the end (although MY mental picture, to be honest, was much worse).
Yes we did, and yes we can. But let's not forget that almost half of the country would apparently rather we didn't.
1.01.2009
nothing changes on new year's day
HAPPY 2009!
I don't usually make new year's resolutions. In fact, for years now I've made it a point not to make new year's resolutions. My reasons are threefold: it seems so arbitrary, I never keep them, and I don't like to be a follower. I mean, EVERYBODY makes new year's resolutions. So I can't be bothered. Instead, I make a list of goals every birthday, which is totally original and allows me to feel like a slacker loser each year on my own personal timetable.
This year, though, I changed my mind for some reason. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I lost my list of 41st birthday goals, which were in my purse journal that vanished during the post-Hurricane Ike mayhem. (Hilariously, it had an Oscar Wilde quote on the front that read "Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us." Until we lose it.) Instead of making a new list, I decided that 2009 would be my year to make some new year's...goals. Or resolutions, or whatever you want to call them. I'm publishing them here not only for public record of them (saying things "out loud" is the only way I every accomplish anything) but also just for the data security (my blog isn't going to fall out of my purse).
My Goals for 2009:
1. Type Dad's novel.
After years of shameless begging, Amber brought me a copy of Dad's novel (thank you!!!). For some reason there is no electronic copy, and we need one so I'm going to type it rather than paying someone to do it.
2. Write my answer to Dad's novel.
My dad's novel is kind of a fictionalized autobiography, if you will, and I know the next part of the story.
3. Blog more days than not.
The geek in me says that means at least 4 days a week. I have plenty to say, it shouldn't be a problem.
4. Meditate and/or do yoga in the mornings.
5. Go back to yoga classes on a regular basis.
6. Finish painting the bathroom.
7. Read at least 2 books a month.
8. Call the fam...way more often.
9. No lunchtime showers.
FYI, if you don't know, I office from home, so my commute consists of walking down the hall. Some days, it's easy to snooze again and work the morning in your PJs. After a while this can become a terribly bad habit. I'm just saying.
Reality Check:
I brewed on my resolutions for over a month, and had every intention of posting them on New Year's Day (yes, just like everybody else). As I'm writing this it's just past midnight on January 15. I'll backdate, but that's only because I love any opportunity to play with time. All I can boast of my list so far is that I have indeed finished two books already this month. As for the rest...so I'm getting a slow start. At least I'm starting?
I don't usually make new year's resolutions. In fact, for years now I've made it a point not to make new year's resolutions. My reasons are threefold: it seems so arbitrary, I never keep them, and I don't like to be a follower. I mean, EVERYBODY makes new year's resolutions. So I can't be bothered. Instead, I make a list of goals every birthday, which is totally original and allows me to feel like a slacker loser each year on my own personal timetable.
This year, though, I changed my mind for some reason. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I lost my list of 41st birthday goals, which were in my purse journal that vanished during the post-Hurricane Ike mayhem. (Hilariously, it had an Oscar Wilde quote on the front that read "Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us." Until we lose it.) Instead of making a new list, I decided that 2009 would be my year to make some new year's...goals. Or resolutions, or whatever you want to call them. I'm publishing them here not only for public record of them (saying things "out loud" is the only way I every accomplish anything) but also just for the data security (my blog isn't going to fall out of my purse).
My Goals for 2009:
1. Type Dad's novel.
After years of shameless begging, Amber brought me a copy of Dad's novel (thank you!!!). For some reason there is no electronic copy, and we need one so I'm going to type it rather than paying someone to do it.
2. Write my answer to Dad's novel.
My dad's novel is kind of a fictionalized autobiography, if you will, and I know the next part of the story.
3. Blog more days than not.
The geek in me says that means at least 4 days a week. I have plenty to say, it shouldn't be a problem.
4. Meditate and/or do yoga in the mornings.
5. Go back to yoga classes on a regular basis.
6. Finish painting the bathroom.
7. Read at least 2 books a month.
8. Call the fam...way more often.
9. No lunchtime showers.
FYI, if you don't know, I office from home, so my commute consists of walking down the hall. Some days, it's easy to snooze again and work the morning in your PJs. After a while this can become a terribly bad habit. I'm just saying.
Reality Check:
I brewed on my resolutions for over a month, and had every intention of posting them on New Year's Day (yes, just like everybody else). As I'm writing this it's just past midnight on January 15. I'll backdate, but that's only because I love any opportunity to play with time. All I can boast of my list so far is that I have indeed finished two books already this month. As for the rest...so I'm getting a slow start. At least I'm starting?
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