One of Those Fried Days

It was a wild and wacky week at work. Home alone and tired — and happy to be both. So I watered the lawn and read a bit and fell asleep in my comfy reading/napping chair.

I woke up at 8:53. OMG!! I was late for work! I am always the first one there — by 7 a.m. — because I'm an early riser. The early bird. (So shoot me. I like worms.) And at my age, I NEVER oversleep.

So I called the office and voicemail answered — our Executive Director. OMG!!! She wasn't in and neither was my coworker! But wait. That couldn't be right.

Oh. It was Saturday morning. Whew.

OMG!!!! I had to be at Walmart in 30 minutes to meet a volunteer and sell raffle tickets. I hadn't even had a shower!!!

Ran into the bathroom and turned on the water. Peeled out of my clothes. And realized it was Fried-Day night. OMG. Whew again.

Who could sleep after that?

I'll probably oversleep. Again. Which I never do.

June

Well, they hauled off and piped in our open irrigation ditch, practically without notice. I was not happy. I LOVED that little concrete stream of constant river water all summer long. We still have the water, but we can't see it or hear it.

Now it's just dirt. The trees along it are gone; the river rock border is gone; it's all gone. I guess after grass—or at least something green—grows, it'll be fine and much easier to keep mowed and neat looking. Seems small consolation now.

So, what's good, you might ask. I have sold some stuff, finally breaking the procrastination. However, didn't sell much and the venue I used did not work out. Still, it was a psychological and emotional triumph; I started and made a little money and don't miss what I sold. Even my oak secretary desk I've had for 50 years. Yikes. Everything must go!!

For now, summer is getting into full swing here in the high desert. Watering, mowing, cleaning up, and fixing things that need it. Always something!

My sister and I will drive back to Missouri (hoping for the best, not misery) at the end of June/4th of July to visit our family. We have all been a bit estranged, so it will be a good time to reconnect...or it will be the longest road trip and visit of all our lives!

We have nieces and nephews and spouses and their kids that we have never even met. It's a family reunion with the four of us Frantsen Firsts also coming back together for the first time since Dad died in 1997. Should be about 21 of us, and we'll have old friends drop by, too. First Grandson Ben will drive over from Georgia with his wife and two daughters. The others all still live in MO. Should be a grand time. We'll see....

At the very least, it'll be one for the books. Our get-togethers always are, in one way or another, and not always the most fun or pleasant. Maybe we've all grown up a bit and can make it good for everyone. Then it's up to the Next Gen to keep on keeping on and staying in touch...or not.

Blogger: The Missing Year

Yikes. I knew it had been a while since I blogged, but a whole year?! I am shocked, yes, shocked! that it's been so long since I wrote. I had a hard time even finding myself, so to speak.

I've been writing, but not blogging; thinking, but not doing. Gotta do. So I'm back. With a vengeance . And a bad haircut.

I went in for a trim and shaping and got the Marsha's Haircut Massacree. Still, I didn't cry. I know hair grows. Two days later, a little local newspaper I write for called and said they wanted to take a photo of me -- for the cover.

I'm too old for this shit. 

It's all so high school/old school. But bad haircuts never die...they just kill.

The reason for the photo is an article on The Beatles that I wrote last year about their 50th anniversary, just now making it to print. Actually, the focus of the article is Karen Kosinski, a woman who went to Liverpool and got a master's degree in The Beatles. But I'm in there, too, with a personal part about 1964 and what the lads meant to me as a teenager.

1964. I remember getting a similar bad haircut back then, compliments of my dad, who thought cutting girls' hair was like cutting boys' hair. Since then, I've mostly gone with the "Give me lots of hair, long beautiful hair" philosophy of the Age of Aquarius. Damn the torpedoes and trends -- full hair ahead! Teach me for forgetting my roots.

So, you may see me tonight with an illegal smile...and also on the full-color cover of the Beacon Senior Newspaper for March, with distribution far beyond my wildest nightmares on a bad hair...day? I wish I were a dream for a day or even just the cover girl of the month.  

But some things last forever, as in newsprint. And the Internet. And the apparently everlasting sagas of bad haircuts. (Don't these people get training?)

O h, well. Next up on the playlist: David Crosby's "Almost Cut My Hair." I'm listening.

Year One for Mama

Mama, what do you wish when you see a falling star
Or when you blow the candles out on your birthday cake?
Do you wish you'd followed different dreams when you were still a girl
Or are you happy with the way things are?
Mama, what do you wish when you listen to your heart?

It's been a year since I put my song on YouTube, and so far it's garnered a pretty respectable, for what it is, hit count of 4,150+...and counting. Peanuts to some, but I'm happy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6sJfrr5r6Kk

I've even gotten some nice comments from across the sea -- Ireland (it's a great crying-in-your-beer-over-your-sainted-mother song) and Norway. Interesting on two levels, since my husband has Irish roots and I, Norwegian.

I think I got those through my connection with Till Zuidema, a cowriter from the Netherlands. Here's our first collaboration:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcua0_0qN74

Anyway, thanks for listening!

Pitching a Hit

I write words
Put music to them
And toss the songs into the wild
Of Nashville.

I have infinite faith in the power of the Universe
To starve my hopes but feed my dreams.

I've been regularly pitching my three little demos and some lyrics without music to folks in the biz. Long shots, to be sure. But I've got a feelin', a feelin' deep in side, oh yeah. (Beatles) This is the year I get into gear and focus more -- much more -- on creating, no matter the cost.

My energy's returning, desire is burning, and I'm still learning how to channel it all into a laser beam of intention, action, and success. Wish me luck!

Every Single Day

The Year

What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That's not been said a thousand times?

The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.

We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.

We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

There's a couple more stanzas to this poem , but I don't like them. These seem to touch on the hopes and fears we have for new years.

Of course, hope starts out as the strongest emotion of each year, and, with luck, each new day. Because all we really know we'll have each year is each day we're lucky enough to live.

And I think that's exactly what I'll focus on -- living the happiest, healthiest, best I can every day. There's my sappy yet sincere wish for my new year.

What's yours?

Time Changes Everything

He brought me a tree
And strung it with lights
He's trying real hard
To make everything right.

My husband and I had lost connection, not affection for each other. So we decided after 5 weeks of separation and just talking and seeing each other rarely, to spend a few days together over the long Christmas weekend.

He surprised me with a little Christmas tree, knowing I love them most as part of Christmas. Love to sit in the dark with no other lights on other than the tree. We decorated it, and I'll enjoy it every day until it comes down.

We talked some, played music and games some, and watched movies. Just had a fun, relaxing time together. We'll see how things progress; so far, so good. Counseling helps; reading helps; time helps.

Till and I ended up in third place in the "Make 'Em Laugh" category of Broadjam.com's contest with our song 'Til I'm 93! We're happy.

So onward to a new year, the symbolism of which is more hopeful this year than others.

My mother would have been 85 today. Happy Birthday, Mama! I love you and still wish you were here.

Twenty's Plenty

TWENTY’S PLENTY.

Today’s the day I stop denying

Knowing love’s been slowly dying.

I’m so done that it ain’t even funny.

Honey, TWENTY'S PLENTY.

This is the chorus to a song I wrote a couple years ago -- when I'd been married about 20 years. I guess my separation has been brewing for some time. Still, after 25 years together, it's a weird, sad, and uncertain thing to not be living with the person you've lived with for so long.

As if I'm the first person to go through it! First time for me, so it's fresh.

Singer-songwriter Till (see prior post) entered our first experimental song in a contest, and we did pretty well! I've finally found someone to write with -- we click and will steam ahead...maybe even 'Til I'm 93! (the name of our song).

Till and Tillie -- T 'n T -- the bomb; dynamite, explosive. What a hoot!

Go to her site and take a look/see/listen: http://www.tillsounds.nl/Home.aspx

And stay tuned; lots of changes in the air.

Grab for the Gusto

Through every season, turn, turn, turn.
From every lesson, learn, learn, learn.
Everything changes, churn, churn, churn.
But where there is life, burn, baby, burn.

This is fun: I belong to SongU.com as a way to learn more about songwriting, pitch my songs to real industry people, keep me motivated and moving, and taking advantage of fun opportunities that they provide.

Currently, that's called "Over and Under," in which they match you with someone in another country, and you write a song together. By December 15. Long-distance, to say the least.

And I got matched with a cool woman named Till. (Those of you who know one of my nicknames is Tillie may find that amusing.) We have e-mailed and Skyped already.

She's much more accomplished than I; she can do it all -- write lyrics, compose music, and sing. Whew! Lucky for me.

And she's in Amsterdam. Eight-hour difference in time. Good thing I'm an early bird. She caught me this morning on Skype. I told her I'd just gotten up (5:30 a.m.); she said she had too (lunch time!). There's a real musician for you!

Anyway, we will ponder growing old as a theme -- not a new subject to this blogger -- and see what happens. Stand by for a link to another song later this year.

"Mama" is doing great on YouTube! Thank you very much.