This says it all, includes so many…
Category: memory
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “a song from your childhood.” Think of a song from your childhood and just write. Have fun!
It just so happens that I have been editing that part of my memoir this week. I was always singing. So Mom put me with her piano teacher, Mrs. Skinner.
There was a primer. It was green. In the first few pages, we’re tracings of my five year old hands labeled with fingering and the first ten notes of the piano staff. Thumbs, middle C, pinkies F left hand, G right hand. The first song was Typewriter. There was the Windsock song. I hum it when we walk near our little airport. I don’t quite remember all the words. But my hands still remember how to play it.
Then there was the Eskimo song. Once again, the words escape me, but muscle memory is strong!
My favorite song was Mister Dragon 🐉🐲 (those emojis came up while typing–I couldn’t resist!)
Mister Dragon, tail a-wagging,
All you say is Boo!
Mister Dragon, Tail a-wagging,
I’m not scared of you!
And I can still play it! That book was so much fun. Mrs. Skinner had me color the pictures. When I learned a song, she pulled out her box of stickers. Some of the pages had so many stickers on them you could barely make out the music.
With all the moves, and giving piano lessons to my own students, that book is gone. And I can’t seem to find that book, even on Google. Does anyone remember it? I’d at least like to include pictures and the name of the book in my Memoir, Moving.
Ah, now that earworm is loose!🐉🐲🎵🎶🎼
Mono Lake is one of the most enchanting places on Earth. On a solo drive from Southern California to Reno it captured my imagination during a rest stop at sunset. I wish I had taken pictures. The tufa looked like fairy castles and the little flies were the fae. Please click on the underlined Mono to see a bit of wonder. As I pulled into the scenic view “Time to Say Goodbye” was playing on my Camry’s CD player.
Here’s another view of Mono Lake:
Be glad I chose not to tell you about my non-kissed mononucleosis. The lake is far cheerier !🤪
I have always thought that Christmas Eve is the coziest day of the year.
Maybe I have to take that back. As a child it was full of angst. But my brothers and I had a system. We could look through the heater on the wall between the bedrooms area and the Christmas tree/living room area. Yep, saw the bikes one time.
Though most of the best presents didn’t come until after our bedtime.
But just before bed Dad would read us The Night Before Christmas. I loved the man in the kerchief and lady in the hat the narrator spoke of. Little did I know I would one day live where it would get cold enough to wear a hat to bed.
There was hot chocolate and candy canes. Sometimes we went to church. But mostly Dad would read the story of Mary and baby Jesus and tuck us in for the long winter’s nap. Oops. I just realized I had it backwards. It’s “With Ma in her kerchief and I in my hat.” Sorry about that.
Even when my kids were young I tried to follow the tradition. No dividing heater. Hot chocolate, fire in the window of the propane heater. Warm and full of love. The next day my folks would play Santa by bringing more gifts than my husband and I could possibly afford. I called my kids the richest poor kids around.
For us that quiet cozy night was preparing us for the loudest day possible.
So many memories. They bring the inner cozy with them.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “—amble.” Add letters to the beginning of “-amble” to make another word or use it as is in your post. Enjoy!
Writing my memoirs is like ambling back through my life. 72 years of shambles and rambling through brambles. Ouch! or take a gamble with this choice or that. Though it is fun to revisit with my grandparents and aunts and uncles, revisiting death or car accidents can sometimes feel like it just happened even if it’s been decades since the actual occurrence. Still smelling the cedar of my grandparent’s closets or the ever-present scent of laundry soap can make me feel warm and secure. I have learned new ways to find my center.
Remember that friend you went to Renaissance Faire with? Remember a day of laughing while sitting in a creek on a hot day? So many memories to take that stroll. I do love a good amble!
I found this interesting about age groups learning languages. I hope those who are not on Duolingo can read it, too.
The dragon is looking like a dragon.
My new NaNoWriMo goal to add another 20k to the memoir.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “where.” Use it any way you’d like!
Where Was I 20 years ago? Well, the train ride into work was weird. They were saying things like how those who were going to transfer to the L.A. train probably should look for another ride. I wasn’t a social commuter. I read and eventually wrote on my Palm Pilot keyboard during the hour long ride.
As I strolled down the aisle between gray motes called work stations, I noticed one co-worker had a small television on and a group of workers looking. I glanced and saw what I thought was a special effect in a movie and moved on to my desk. Then I started hearing some say they needed to go their relative worked there. What? Where? Irvine, CA became a scary place for me. I was an hour from home, by train.
Once the coworker with the TV told me what happened, the bosses came through and told us all to go home. It seemed New York had reached us in southern California.
We were off for several days. The train ride was never as fun as it had been before. Everyone was scared as to what might happen next. I think it was the beginning trigger of a huge depression for me. There were other things that happened that made it worse but that’s anther story I don’t think belongs here.
After the fear of the moment the pride in our fellow heroes who rose above the crazies. That was when I found pride in the country where I live. I wish we could still have that unity we had then. Where is the love? Where?
.
Up in the sky, way over there,
Those thoughts that fly
When I need them most
Are having a hey day!
Down in that valley, yes, right here,
We try to carry on,
Spiriting up
Getting things done
Having down to Earth fun.
A lack of sleep night had me scurrying for words when talking to family. But I had my ups and downs in the day getting lots of recorder things done, piano practice, even scales with fingers running up and down the keyboard.
A couple boxes got unboxed. The first signs of the heat showed up. Though in comparison with those west of here our temps were down, I don’t think we got to the predicted 95. Not looking forward to the triples due tomorrow through Wednesday. Too hot to be productive when there is no AC. Well, we have fans and a little window AC. But not the whole house kind.
Keep cool everyone!
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “up/down.” Use one, use them both, but try to put one in your first sentence. Bonus points if you use the other in your last sentence. Have fun!
Thanks for the fun prompt, Linda G. Hill!
Some of the hardest times in my life were some of my best times. They are the times that I learned the most. They are the times I found love and lost love while facing myself. For me, one of those times was Speech class. It was way back when my age (71) was reversed. 16-17 years old. 10th grade. A TERRIFYING class. Yet the teacher was so fascinating. We debated using Robert’s Rules of Order; we argued and passed to legalize marijuana, prostitution, equal rights, and so many more restrictive laws and lean into misogynistic, bigoted ways. The arguments were from both sides as we were required to argue them from either side as the teacher assigned. I found all of it so exciting. Listening to everyone’s speeches intrigued me. The teacher’s input fascinated me. But one guy, who was a year ahead of me, was wow! I can’t even come up with a word that described his ability to take a topic and unfold something that seemed cut and dried to an eye-opener set of reasoning that left me breathless.
Somehow he ended up my boyfriend. For three whole months, I got to see how this guy thought in every way. Then he went back to his original girlfriend, who he is still married to, as I understand it. So I feel good at this age that he got such a sweet person to devote his life to. I feel lucky to have known him for that short time, but the Speech class became even harder for me after our break-up. Speech-making turned me into a puddle of sweat and nervousness. Seeing that beautiful man every day brought me to tears nearly every day.
Even after two years of Speech class, I find speeches the most horrid things to do. I did get to the point where I could do a little acting, I did like my drama class. And at one point, after a great amount of grief, I got to the point of loving to sing solos, anywhere. But it has been so long ago now that I think I’d have to relive the whole process to get up and sing alone. Give me a choir or chorus—no dancing or giving long speeches. I’ll save those for times when no one is watching!
Per Linda G. Hill–
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Darswords 
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