Last Saturday night, Tom and I went to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers in concert.
Even though the RHCPs have been around for a long, long time (they are nearly our age, after all) . . . and I've been a fan of their music for a long, long time . . . I laughed with Tom and my friends that we'd be among the oldest people at the concert.
And, well. . . we were.
But it didn't matter. It was great! Awesome, in fact.
Today, I'm sharing "Day Two" of my "31 Things" project. As you can see, I've decided to forego the scrapbooking element . . . replacing it with a song from the Soundtrack of My Life instead. At some point, I plan to post all 31 entries as a separate "pages" feature to this blog. For the time being, I'll just share a post now and again.
DAY TWO: MORNING
Soundrack: I Say a Little Prayer (Aretha Franklin)
My morning routine. . . is very routine. While the time I wake up – and the intensity of the getting-up-and-out activity level – varies depending on what my day holds, it is, essentially, the same routine each day. (I can get completely ready to leave the house in less than a half hour if I need to, but I usually stretch things out for longer than that.)
(The view from my bed when I first wake up. We live high on a hill, so I never bother with the blinds. I like to wake up to the sunshine.)
What do I do. . . every morning?
I wake with my alarm (which sounds much like the warning system at a nuclear facility, I’m afraid. . . it’s the only thing that works to get me going!); I don't mind the being up . . . but I have a hard time with the getting up.
After a “snooze bar” (or two), I get up an immediately brush my teeth (because I really hate the way my mouth tastes when I wake up).
I let Jenny out and feed her (unless Tom is up before me, and then he takes care of that one).
Coffee! Two cups. . . with a dollop of cream.
Then I hit the shower,
dry my hair; do my make-up, and get dressed.
I make my bed every day, without fail. I really hate having an unmade bed.
Eat breakfast . . . same old cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds) every single day. . . with a handful of dried cherries and a sliced banana. (I share the banana with Jenny.)
And then. . . I’m off! For whatever the day brings!
Today, I'm sharing "Day One" of my "31 Things" project. As you can see, I've decided to forego the scrapbooking element . . . replacing it with a song from the Soundtrack of My Life instead. At some point, I plan to post all 31 entries as a separate "pages" feature to this blog. For the time being, I'll just share a post now and again.
DAY ONE: JEWELRY
Soundrack: Peaceful Easy Feeling (The Eagles)
I love jewelry. I always have. Some of my earliest memories . . . are of my mom’s jewelry. Clip-on earrings. Shiny brooches. Matching necklace-and-bracelet sets. I used to love it when she would let me “play” with her jewelry box. . . when she would show me different pieces and tell me their stories.
I had my own jewelry box as a girl. It was one of those little boxes with a music-box ballerina that turned and played a little song when you opened it. I loved it. I thought it was so special. I remember being intrigued with just when that ballerina would “shut off.” I used to try to close the box very, very slowly while peeking inside to see if I could see just when she stopped. Then I would open it really, really quickly to see if I could trick her into a slow start. I kept my own special jewelry in there. I had a monogram “K” pin made of Genuine Redwood. And a Santa Claus Pin with a light-up red nose. A few little-girl lockets and bracelets. A charm bracelet. And a few other oddments that I had picked up here and there. I loved all of my jewelry!
As I got older – probably fifth grade or so – girls around me started to get their ears pierced. I so wanted pierced ears! There was a girl in my fifth grade class. . . her name was Linda, and she was very quiet. We weren’t really friends, but her desk was near mine. I remember that she had very, very blond hair – and pierced ears. It all seemed so exotic to me, then! Pierced ears! Linda wore these little mouse earrings with blue jewel eyes. I coveted those mice! I wanted them! I begged to have my ears pierced.
But my parents said NO.
As I grew a bit older, my desire for pierced ears grew stronger. By seventh grade, EVERYone had pierced ears. Absolutely EVERYone. (Really!) I was obsessed! I wanted to wear big hoops and dangling, filigree earrings that would hang down to my shoulders! (Gone were the days of cute little mice earrings.) Whenever I shopped, I spent all my time admiring the earrings. All of my friends exchanged earrings for birthday and Christmas gifts. I was so left out! I begged.
But my parents said NO.
I was too chicken to pierce my ears myself, and my friends weren’t daring enough to do it for me, either. So you know what I did? I pretended to have pierced ears! I collected . . . pairs of things. Buttons. Beads. Pieces of wire. And I glued them to my ears!!!!! One of my friends even gave me broken earrings from her collection to help me with my ruse! Every morning before school (in secret, of course), I used Elmer’s Glue to glue junk on my ear lobes! It was tedious. It was ridiculous. But I achieved the look I wanted!
Ultimately, my mom caught me. She was irritated with me. . . and she thought I was silly. . but she took pity on me. She decided that I must really, really want my ears pierced if I was desperate enough to glue crap on my ears every morning. She relented, and I got my ears pierced for my 14th birthday.
Finally!
All these years later, I still love jewelry. I have a great big stand-on-the-floor jewelry box (sadly, no ballerina!) full of all kinds of jewelry-treasures. (Although I don’t have my monogram “K” made from Genuine Redwood any more, or the light-up Santa Claus pin, I do still have several pieces of jewelry from my old ballerina jewelry box still lurking about!)
Every day, I wear my wedding ring . . . and 2 pairs of earrings (because I love my pierced ears so much I got them double-pierced in college). I often wear a bracelet (or two or three), and sometimes a necklace. Nothing special, really. But things I love!
(And, just for the record, I let my own daughter get her ears pierced the first time she asked – when she was about 10 or 11!)
(Wow. Animation has come a long way since my childhood!)
I always have at least one project that doesn't take too much concentration on the needles. You know. . . a project that you can do while watching television, or talking on the phone, or traveling as a passenger in a car.
The Honey Cowl totally fit the bill! Sugar, sugar!
What a perfect project . . . in a perfect yarn! Oh, honey, honey! You are my candy . . . cowl . . . and you've got me wanting you!
It was a squeaker! The final score was 27-25. Although Black Cardi was on the board first and held the early lead, Tote Bag just kept charging! Black Cardi, however, scored at the final buzzer to take it all in this season's March Madness!
If you'd like more details on the Black Cardi (named for my favorite Beatles song), you can click here for all the yarny-knitty details on Ravelry.
As for the Tote Bag, it is the Frenchy Bag pattern from Amy Butler. As usual, the Amy Butler pattern is fabulously detailed and well-written. This bag is pretty straightforward and, with the exception of one or two tricky-bits, would be very do-able for an advanced-beginner sewer. I made the bag as a birthday gift for my friend, Sandie, and I'm pleased to say she loves it! (There is a little glitch in one of the lining seams -- a tiny little pucker I chose to ignore. It haunts me still. I can see Miss Helzer, eye-brow raised in That Way, wordlessly handing me a seam ripper.)
CONGRATULATIONS to Sheri, who was the big winner in my random drawing of all March Madness voters. I'll be sending Sheri an exciting March Madness prize package. (Just for the record, Sheri popped over to vote after reading Mary's blog. Thanks, Mary! And . . . she voted for the Tote Bag!)
CONGRATULATIONS, also, to three March Madness "runners-up" (because you can't have a March Madness contest without having a "Final Four" line-up!): Carole, Elaine, and Sara. A little prize will also be on the way to each of you.
THANKS TO ALL OF YOU for playing along with my March Madness fun!
So many times, I hear people . . . dispair. . . that it's their birthday.
Another year older.
No spring chicken.
Past their prime.
Beats the alternative.
Well. Today, let me assure you . . . having a birthday . . . and turning a year older. . . is a privilege. Not a problem.
It's my birthday, too, yeah!
I never used to like to celebrate my birthday. I didn't want to draw attention to myself. I still don't, really. But I do like to acknowledge the day now -- more than ever.
We're gonna have a good time!
I'm going to fill my day with things I love doing. My turbo-kick class. Lunch with a friend. A little knitting. Maybe some gardening (a first for my birthday!). Dinner with Tom. And, tomorrow, a birthday dinner with my family -- where my Mom will make me the same birthday dinner I've requested since about age 8 (lasagne, "grass salad," and German chocolate birthday cake).
Take a cha-cha-cha-chance!
And I'm going to use this gift of another year . . . to try some new things, think big thoughts, move in new directions, live happy, and not waste a minute.
Because . . . getting older . . . really DOES beat the alternative!
This week, Carole's got us . . . movin' out! Hit it, Billy!
I've had my share of moves over the years. Across town and across country. I've moved myself with U-Hauls. I've been "moved" by relocation companies. And I've depended on the kindness of friends and relatives to help me move.
I've been in one place now for nearly nine years (and that last move came compliments of a relocation package with packers and movers and unpackers, even), but my kids have not. I've moved kids in and out of dorm rooms and campus housing too many times to count, and last summer, I helped Erin move to Pittsburgh.
So. Yeah. I'm qualified to address this particular Ten on Tuesday topic.
My Ten Tips for Moving (with input from Tom):
Sort through your stuff before (or even as) you pack. Get rid of ANYthing you don't want to deal with in your new place. This is your Big Chance! Thin out. Have a garage sale. Donate to Goodwill. Recycle. Just don't move something you don't need or want! (And if you have professional packers move your stuff, just know that they will pack EVERYthing you have. Even full trash cans. Everything.)
Get familiar with your new place BEFORE you move. It's great if you have the time (and luxury) to paint or change out the carpet before you actually move in, but, at the very least get in and measure windows, check whether or not you need to bring a shower curtain with you, and have some idea about where you want to place your big furniture and belongings.
Designate a "safe spot" to hold the items you want to bring with you to have immediately when you move in. During our last move, for example, we desginated the bathtub as the spot to store things we didn't want packed into the moving van (medications, documents and records, overnight bags, tool kits, etc.). When you're in the midst of a move -- with other people pitching in to help or moving you -- it's a good idea to have one central location to store things you DON'T want to lose track of! Your "helpers" will know that one spot is off limits.
Treat your movers well (whether they're professionals you've hired OR your friends and relatives)! Feed them. Provide water or Gatorade. TIP THEM WELL! They'll be so much more willing and helpful if you do.
Create a tool kit of those items you'll need at hand while you're moving and unpacking -- and keep them with (or near) you all the time. Tape measure. Box cutter. Packing tape. Markers. Water. Toilet paper. Clipboard/note paper. Pen. Cell phone. Screwdrivers.
Locate local fast food and chain restaurants you can trust right away! When Tom and I first moved to Michigan, we had to eat at "Clock Fine Foods" (the "Fine" was a stretch) for three days straight because we couldn't find more standard fare for awhile. (Of course, this was in the pre-GPS days and internet days. . . but still. Find your best options right away.)
Once your "stuff" is "in" -- set up and make your bed first. Before you do any other unpacking. Because it's great to be able to settle in to a comfortable (and civilized) place to sleep when you finally get to turn in for the night! (And, really, who wants to make up a bed when they're hours beyond bedtime and emotionally drained?).
Set up your electricity, cable, and internet services in advance of the move so they're set up and ready to go on moving day.
If you're moving yourself, be sure to rent a dolly. It's totally worth the extra (minimal) expense.
Relax. Try not to get too overwhelmed. It will all sort itself out. Eventually!
Ten on Tuesday topics like this week's -- Ten Soungs That Put You in a Good Mood -- really throw me for a loop. On the one hand. . .
it's fun and easy. Because my brain is crammed with songs.
But on the other hand. . . it's really a challenge. Because I obsess. I shuffle songs in my mind all day long. I feel like John Cusak's character in High Fidelity, over-thinking the songs for his mix-tapes.
Anyway, it's time to put myself out of my misery -- and just list ten songs that make me happy when I hear them:
Midnight Train to Georgia -Gladys Knight & the Pips
The Joker - Steve Miller Band
Get Back - The Beatles
Hotel California - The Eagles
Vertigo - U2
Maggie May - Rod Stewart
Paint it Black - The Rolling Stones
What if God Were One of Us - Joan Osborne
Little Jeannie - Elton John
China Grove - Doobie Brothers
(And here's my list of "Honorable Mentions." I know. I know. I can't help myself. These were the rest of the songs in the running! Skateaway (Dire Straits), Here Comes the Sun (George Harrison), Rikki Don't Lose That Number (Steely Dan), Open Arms (Journey), More than a Feeling (Boston), One Week (Barenaked Ladies), Rhiannon (Fleetwood Mac), Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen), Mind Games (John Lennon), Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay (Otis Redding), Cinnamon Girl (Neil Young), Billie Jean (Michael Jackson), Band of Gold (Freda Payne), Only Want to Be With You (Hootie and the Blowfish), Penny Lane (The Beatles), Viva La Vida (Coldplay), You're So Vain (Carly Simon), Jackie Blue (Ozark Mountain Daredevils), Free Man in Paris (Joni Mitchell), Teach Your Children (CSNY), I'm on Fire (Bruce Springsteen), Vogue (Madonna), Paradise by the Dashboard Lights (Meatloaf), Kodachrome (Paul Simon), Light My Fire (The Doors), Layla (Eric Clapton), Oliver's Army (Elvis Costello), Margaritaville (Jimmy Buffet.)
"You can't just sit there and wait for people to give you that golden dream. You've got to get out there and make it happen for yourself." -- Diana Ross
It's March. Women's History Month. I typically acknowledge this special month. . . even though I have a problem with women's history having to be assigned a month. I know. I know. I've struggled with this over the years, and I've just decided to go with it. A month is better than no month at all.
So. Women's History Month. A time to celebrate the legacy of women. This year, I've decided to acknowledge and honor those women who've had role in my life; women who've contributed to who I am today.
The other day, I started thinking about . . . music. As you've probably figured out, I always have a song running through my head. I listen to music in my car. When I work at my computer. In my kitchen. When I work out. Heck, I even work for music organizations! And I wondered where this came from. . . when did that Soundtrack of My Life begin?
My sister is like this, too. Some of my best memories of our earlier times are of the two of us, huddled around some radio or another, waiting to hear one of our favorite songs. (Procol Harem, Di?) My sister even had one of those rare and coveted part-time jobs in high school -- working for the local record store. . . spinning vinyl. . . every day!
So, where did this come from? Not our parents. No. The influence of music started early. . . and came from other sources.
Hit it, Supremes. . .
When we were little girls, my sister and I had two sisters as our babysitters: Helen and Donna. I used to get pretty excited when Helen or Donna came over to babysit us (although Di hated for our Mom to go anywhere; she wasn't happy about babysitters) . . . because they were nice. And cool. It would have been the mid-sixties when Helen came; later in the sixties when Donna came. They had bubble-flip hairdos. They wore paisley dresses. Donna had real go-go boots. When you see the screaming girls who loved the Beatles or the Stones. . . well, that could've been Helen or Donna.
Helen used to come over and tune in the radio. She loved Motown. Diana Ross and the Supremes. The Temptations. Martha Reeves and the Vandellas. The Four Tops. She listened. We listened. I loved it!
I remember that Donna was more outgoing than Helen. Very bubbly and giggly. She was our sitter one summer, when my mom had just gone back to work part time. She would come over and tune the radio to Larrrrry Luuuuuujack, a DJ in Chicago. She loved Freda Payne's "Band of Gold." She would listen for it all day on the radio, and then we'd all dance around the house whenever it played. Donna had a little '45 record carrying case, and she would bring her carefully-organized record collection to our house sometimes to play on my little record player. Donna taught me to dance. The Twist. The Freddie. The Monkey. The Pony. She was awesome!
Donna and Helen provided my introduction to "rock-n-roll". So different from the music of my parents! So cool! So hip! They introduced me to Motown and Top 40 and popular radio stations. . . so much a part of my own love of rock-n-roll and pop music. The very beginnings of . . . the Soundtrack of My Life!
And, then. . . there was Nee-Cie!
"Nee-Cie" (short for Denise) was the youngest daughter of some friends of my parents. Nee-Cie was probably about 3 or 4 years older than me -- and I felt so lucky to be able to spend time with her. She was So. Cool. Nee-Cie would invite me into her room. . . her teen-ager room. . . her cool-beyond-belief teen-ager room! . . . and let me catch a glimpse of her totally-groovy 13-year-old existence in 1968. I remember just . . . breathing in her coolness. Posters on her wall! Make-up carefully arranged on a dressing table! SEVENTEEN magazine! A pink fuzzy rug! It was like . . . having face-time . . . with Marcia Brady!!!
Nee-Cie was far beyond a '45 record collection. She played entire record albums for me! Nee-Cie introduced me to the Stones. Jefferson Airplane. The Doors. But, mostly, she shared her love of the Beatles. I remember sitting on the floor in her room - on the pink fuzzy rug - as she carefully instructed me in all things Beatles. She filled me full of Beatle-lore, showed me pictures, relayed stories, played me songs, wrote out lyrics . . . and then quizzed me on all of it. Just to make sure I really understood.
And me? I just sat there, playing with her Spirograph, taking it all in -- thrilled, feeling pretty cool, and adding to the Soundtrack of my Life.
And so today, all these many years later, I acknowledge the Legacy left me by Helen, Donna, and Nee-Cie: A love of pop music and a constant awareness of . . .what's playing on the radio!
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