I didn’t have a picture nearby but the ball sits with me. That starts my stream of consciousness. Beach ball. Summer. It is still in the 80s, I’m sure at this time. The bugs will invade within the hour as they have been for the past few evenings. Ugh! The bugs make me wish for snow!
Summer used to be my favorite season. That was when I could go to the beach or pool to swim. I love being in the water. I wasn’t a beach bunny that liked to be out on the sand getting a tan. If I could I would be swimming. Diving down to the bottom. Swimming on the bottom as long as my breath would last. I even remember having tea parties on the pool floor. Just thinking all this is helping my body temperature lessen.
Walking on the sand at the beach. The delightful cool wet sand after the heated sand that seemed to release muscle aches but then started burning the soles of my feet. The water lapping up to my feet with foam and sometimes seaweed. The sand leaving from under my toes as if it were alive. The cold water nearly causing pain, definitely causing me to screech. And then I would hear the transistor radio of someone on shore my favorite summer song. I knew it was summer when I heard it.
My next to favorite song that reaffirms summer is:
Thank you for helping me cool off and remember my favorite memories of summer past. Maybe sometime we will be able to enjoy all that again. Meanwhile. memories will have to do the job.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “song.” First, find a picture–the closest one to you. Your prompt is the title and/or the lyrics of the first song that comes to mind when you look at the picture. Have fun!
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “ch.” Find a word that starts with “ch” and use it as your prompt word. Bonus points if you start your post with that word. Enjoy!
Well, my first thought, if we are streaming, is:
Ch-ch-ch-changes is what we are all dealing with. Remember all the TV psychologists that were preaching about the time it takes to form a new habit? Yeah, that is where we are. Adjusting and reminding ourselves to do the things it takes to keep ourselves and others healthy. It is scary. If not personally, then for loved-ones.
I remember as my grandparents and then my mother lay in the hospitals very ill about thirty years and more ago. I wouldn’t bring my four youngsters around for fear that they might have a cold or something that would be caught by my sickly elders. There was no COVID19 then. I couldn’t bear the guilt should I through my recklessness if they would die. How could anyone not want to try and keep everyone healthy? I don’t understand the childish tantrums.
Well, I do understand the frustration. It is adjusting to the habits and changes that trying to stay healthy and hopefully not make others sick is sometimes overwhelming. It makes me have nightmares. I find myself writing a lot. Especially thinking about, what if this is the last time… What if I won’t see another friend or family member, regardless if it is me or them that go… There is not much in the way of a will, as, what do I have, anyway? Still, I think about things and realize that I wouldn’t want the things. I want my loved one. What if they get the stroke version or the toe-gunk or the having to be on ventilators. Death may not be the worst. Maybe it will be the suffering they, or I will deal with.
All the more stress is added to just getting food into the house. Remember when we could go to the store, hug friends if we meet them there. Stand and talk for hours in the vegetable section. Sure you’d have to get out of the way of other shoppers but they’d smile and just go around. Then the hardest thing was making sure you got everything on the list, because who wants to go to the store more often than once a week. For us, it was twice a month. We’d drive to the city 90 miles away to do the whole thing. With this, we do all the shopping in two little stores in a frontier town. Imagine grocery shopping at the convenience store. Not bad for picking stuff up for the weekend barbeque. But for daily meals with any healthy values it is very hard to do.
Oh, we all know how scary that march into the house and putting it all away is. And then the counting days from the last outing for 14 days. These are habits we didn’t learn. They are still not fully formed habits. Had it been so easy as to just washing our hands more, that would have been a hard new habit to squeeze into our every day. But all of the rest of this is hard for all of us. The sanest people are having problems with it. We are running for our lives, the lives of the medical folks who will be taking care of us or our loved ones. We have to keep reminding ourselves of that. The changes sometimes seem beyond our reach.
I was never a Bowie fan but here are the words to the song:
David Bowie Lyrics
“Changes”
I still don’t know what I was waiting for
And my time was running wild
A million dead-end streets
And every time I thought I’d got it made
It seemed the taste was not so sweet
So I turned myself to face me
But I’ve never caught a glimpse
Of how the others must see the faker
I’m much too fast to take that testCh-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Don’t want to be a richer man
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Just gonna have to be a different man
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence and
So the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They’re quite aware of what they’re going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Don’t tell them to grow up and out of it
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Where’s your shame
You’ve left us up to our necks in it
Time may change me
But you can’t trace time
Strange fascination, fascinating me
Changes are taking the pace
I’m going through
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Oh, look out you rock ‘n rollers
Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes
(Turn and face the strange)
Ch-ch-changes
Pretty soon now you’re gonna get older
Time may change me
But I can’t trace time
I said that time may change me
But I can’t trace time
Almost. That is the best thing I can say. I was excited, as a former music major, to see a picture book about the orchestra. But on the first page, I got disappointed. Two of the instruments named were not shown.
The text wasn’t rhythmic or as fun as it could be. And I think it still needs a good editor.
The pictures were fun and I wanted the story to be as fun.
Still, I would have read it to my children. I think I could have made it more fun with sounds of the instruments lined up to actually introduce each part. It could be a fun story, if cleaned up a bit, to a field trip to a concert or an educational segment about Peter and the Wolf, and possibly pulling out triangles and fun band percussion instruments. and a good old march around the classroom.
My deepest disappointment was the piano not named as it was being called a pipe organ (not usually in an orchestra, and no pipes).
Still, the book could have hope with a bit more clean up.
Remember how we all talked about dogs and the zoomies the other day? I wonder if they are having a cathartic reaction to something in their lives. I love a good dance it out (when no one is looking), a quick run around the yard (again when no one is looking–I hope).
It is too bad we all so close to our neighbors. I think a good scream it out or sing at the top of our lungs would be quite cathartic for all of us. It seems the only time I can do that is on a car trip by myself. Me and Babs doing Yentl or other Broadway musicals can bring me back to me.
Sometimes baking bread will do it with the punching down the dough. I think any physical burst of energy can pull out a lot of emotions without spending tons on psychiatrists and meds.
Another thing I love to do is watch shows like Beaches. That good cry at the end can clear out the cobwebs.
Lately, and this is a bit embarrassing to me, (wow! look above at all the cathartic embarrassments!) if I’m feeling a lot of hopelessness about the world, especially the rulers of the world (notice how vague that is!) I love watching non-stop disaster movies. The plots are similar, stupid rulers making stupid decisions for their own good and scientists that are being paid to find certain answers with no regard to truth, then the rulers say not to panic, which in turn becomes panic. Those we relate to live through it all or are emotional heroes.
And right now it seems knitting and binging horror/weirdness shows get me by until I can dance it out again.
About a half hour into our drive Thursday we realized something dreadful. We forgot my cd case. There was a hole in our truck the size of this:
That meant YIKES!!!!
What is a road trip without music?
Obviously, we didn’t have time to turn around and get my case. I know you more hipster types will say what about your phone? We live in the middle of nowhere, remember? Hardly a satellite ray gets through all this nothingness. And our phones don’t hold much of anything so downloaded music wouldn’t help either.
“I guess we’ll just have to talk to each other.” My honey said. We laughed. And then for most of the hour and a half drive to the next city, we said a few words to each other.
We ran into the store full of hopes of CDs. And it was time for dog and people relief. When I could, I walked to the electronics department, asked if they had CDs. There was a sales display with mostly DVDs but in the back were two CDs. Peter Frampton and Lionel Richie. No offense to the PF fans, but I chose Lionel Richie’s CD because a lot of his best songs were there. I could picture myself singing these for a while. Hello!
By the time we got to Portland, I was hoarse and beginning to tire of RL. But he got us there and helped me not get out of the car during the traffic jam stops.
We knew we would need more music to get through the five hours going back, even though we chose a different route to enjoy. Both ways were beautiful scenery for the eyes. Hubby and I had fun in spite of ourselves. But about three hours in, I longed for something else to sing. I thought about what I didn’t have in my case at home and John Denver and The Supremes came to mind. I figured if I found them they would be cheap, like the RL, only $5!
But, NO. The only thing that appealed to me was a Beatles CD. It looked like it had a couple discs so I thought the $19 worthwhile. (Turned out one of the discs was a DVD). Ah, but I needed something for Hubby. I found a Celtic Woman that I didn’t think we had in either of our cases. By the way, he has a case, too. But I was the driver so the music needs to be there for ME!
I can’t tell you how happy that Beatles CD made me. I was rockin’ out and proving that I could remember most of the words. I missed friends–Kay, and her sisters and times of dancing and acting silly back in the day. And my Potpourri (<–a group I sang with a long time ago) friends and our harmonizing Beatle toons on our way to and from the recording studio. Yep, you heard me right. The group was making a Christmas madrigally tape for friends and family. So Beatles and CW were expensive but worth the buy. I grooved to the Beatle CD until we were nearly home. 27 songs!!!
Then it was dark and I needed something soothing and to give my voice a rest:
Yeah, nope. I needed to pull over to the side of the road just to fully enjoy these voices and songs I could sing along with. I highly recommend everyone getting this–and the Beatles one. The Lionel Richie–well it was good for a long time but I bet I won’t listen to it again for a while.
By the way, my go-to music is usually Broadway musicals like Into the Woods, Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, etc. Or books on CDs.
I watch this show every year. Thinking about how if I just apply myself to something assuming I never have to stop I could become proficient. Now that my piano is in the living room I need to get rid of all the psychic garbage that keeps me from it and just do it like every day is Groundhog’s Day. Think of the things we could learn if we just followed Phil.
Take a look at that object. That is my address. I know it looks like a musical instrument that I learned how to play, a bit, when I was in junior high, sixth grade I think. You might even think of it as my own TARDIS. Though it is rather a variable, sometimes bigger on the inside but soon smaller than the inhabitants.
If I’ve counted correctly, I have lived in 21 addresses. Maybe four of them are just the right size. But with family and a few friends and four-leggeds, the insides of these places grow and shrink at the oddest rates. Can you hear the music of the bellows?
When we moved here three Autumns ago, the living room was empty. It has squares of carpet that made me want to play hop-scotch or dance there was so much room. I had my own piano room/hobby room and most of the time I enjoyed that room, but Winter came. Hear the music as we moved into the bedroom to save the electric bill. So that room started collecting things that didn’t fit in the bedroom.
When Spring came, I looked forward to company coming. With no living room furniture, I felt sad. But a kind soul found us sofas and soon the living room had friends and family. I liked working out there where the soft sofas called me. So the piano room is used less.
Suddenly, my son is in a situation where he needs somewhere to live. So this week I’ve been busy pulling books and things out of that room and trying to find homes for everything that was in there. So remember the empty living room? Boxes! Piano! Bookshelves!
So the address has taken the squeezing–push the button on the top if you don’t want to hear the music! Or is that my accepting sigh? I haven’t seen my son for years! So I am happy to see him and think it will be fun to have him around. Just, oh there’s the sigh again, sad to see the space squish. At least this address is full of space outside, and lots of sky!
With the prompt of the day, Silence, I couldn’t resist this:
For those who aren’t aware of Doctor Who… What planet do you live on?
Why is it that we equate silence with the sound of crickets? Anyone who has lived in places of many crickets knows that is a LOUD obnoxious sound! (I year in Coalinga, California taught me this.)
Simon and Garfunkel come to mind here as quieter sounds of silence.
I’d like to think that we have moments of silence out here in the boondocks. But there is a small airport within a mile from us. There are cows and coyotes and chickens and turkeys and a small amount of traffic in front of our house. The ambient noise is wind–Mariah?
Silence is Golden–wow! We in the rebellious 60s were yelling silence a lot!
It was lots of fun thinking of these songs. But really. Have you noticed that true silence can’t happen? Even if there is no sound. That is when you can hear your heart beating louder than a drum and the breathing noises and swallowing noises. the embarrassing stomach growl and oooh the worst, the fart. And the only place you notice all those noises is in church or maybe worse, yoga class. So maybe there is no such thing as silence? Or does it pass us by like those guys on Doctor Who? Maybe we need to litter our skin with hash marks when we notice?
I can hear Babs singing it right now. I never saw Cats but in voice-class, this was a favorite. I loved that class. Because I got to take it eight times (four for voice and four for accompaniment–which I was allowed to still use for voice. I hated accompaniment. My eye-hand coordination is worse when stressed and being the one playing on stage nearly killed me. I loved singing. I was afraid at first but soon was able to use the butterflies to my benefit.
After eight semesters I was able to take voice lessons from the teacher. I LOVED that! Soon I was able to sing with friends or alone at churches and other events. I loved hanging out with my musical friends, singing harmonies, playing musical games. Ah! Memories!
When I had to move from the area life took over and all that went by the way-side. If I had to sing solos now I would be a nervous wreck. But I miss it. I must find a way to add making music to my daily schedule.
I’m not good at being audience. I can’t sit still long enough. But in those days I got to be in a couple musicals, My Fair Lady – chorus and Oliver (Old Sally). I like singing in the chorus. I got to be the screechy high soprano because most couldn’t get the notes. I’d like to think I was okay. Mostly it was fun being a part of the production. Musicals are my favorite type of music. I like my music to come with stories. I like acting it all out. No talking parts for me. Makes me too nervous. I can remember song words, not spoken.
Into the Woods, Phantom of the Opera, Yentl, and Les Miserable are among my favorites. What are yours?
This could be the most challenging of the #AtoZChallenge. I wanted to go with the easy, xylophone, or x-ray, but couldn’t think of enough to fill a sentence much less a small blog post. So I went to my online dictionary and ran across words I knew but needed a refresher. So I exited the dictionary with a minor idea. Let’s see if it works.
Are you a xenophile or a xenophobe? The roots of the words are easy in this case. xeno=people especially foreign or exotic. Phile=lover of. Phobe=afraid of. A lot of us don’t think about it much. We tend to think we like everyone.
That would be true for me. I like to think I like all people. But throw me into a room with more than two people I don’t know and I go into a panic with sweats and shakes. One on one, I am fascinated by all people and their stories. If I get to know them well enough I can handle them in a bigger group of folks I know.
Parties? Church? Can’t handle the crowds at all. Even the nicest of groups like the Unitarian Universalists, probably the least judgmental of church groups I’ve ever been in, too many and I am a basket case looking for the nearest exit. (See what I did there?)
I get my xenophile fix by reading about people from other places and walks of life. I think everything you read that stretches your understanding reduces the possible cases of xenophobia.
But Hey! I learned to play the xylophone before I learned the piano. It had many colored keys like my first little piano. I was and am a little upset that adult pianos are black and white. Mine is pretty and I love rooms of black and white, I would love a room of those colors and a black baby grand, with the tiled look going into the indoor pool of the same colors. Now that is seXy! But red and yellow black and white and brown and purple, blue and green, this started out a song but the dream of this piano/xylophone overreached! Oh, but the piano room with the wood as the main feature could use a glockenspiel! Ooh! Xylophone vs glockenspiel! There’s a topic for another day!
Notice the above paragraph has no people? Yeah, for a few seconds there I was not nervous. As much as I love people and want them in my life there are times that I could X them out and bury myself in my music or art or writing, reading–ah but sooner or later I crave social interaction. I long for long talks and learning others’ stories. Suck it up, shake and perspire, enjoy the Xeno!
Working on my series: Haven.
Doodler (zendoodle.com)
Music major: voice and piano
Mom of four great adults
Reiki II practitioner
I have been on disability/retired for 10 years now from depression, anxiety and fibromyalgia.
Empowering women with chronic conditions, invisible illness to become the best versions of themselves (relationship advice, personal growth, and inspiring stories)
