An absurd little bird

...is popping up to say cuckoo. Cuckoo! Cuckoo! This is me dipping my toe back into the blogging pond. Helloooooo! Anyone out there?

I've missed this, missed you.

The Sound of Music is in the air around here ever since Sam began his role as Friedrich, the oldest von Trapp boy, for his middle school musical not long ago. He rocked it. Plus, he was a true team player and all around good sport*.  Here are a few selected moments for the grandparents and others who asked. Please excuse the iphone video quality (and if only I had turned the camera the right way...).

Oh, and I want to give a shout out to Madi, our Maria, who was amazing.
Hard to believe that's a 13-year-old girl singing those notes. 

Listen carefully for a Friedrich solo at the end:

My mom and aunts loaned many of the dirndls shown here. Thank you!
Another Friedrich solo here:* 

*First, they gave him the high notes, which is not necessarily thrilling news for a 13-year-old boy. Sam has a pretty low speaking voice but he has a terrific ear and falsetto so they made him gave him the opportunity to use it. The director said that his favorite part of the whole play was when Sam did the octave jump for: Good night! (you can hear my chuckle and scattered applause on that last video if you listen closely).

Good sport item #2: They rented the sailor costumes from a theater and when they arrived one of the boys' outfits was too small for both of the boys. By a few years. Since the other (younger) boy was a little bigger width-wise, Sam got stuck with the small one. You'll see. There are some Winnie-the-Pooh moments.

Good sport item #3: Take a look at the play clothes made from curtains. They made floral suspenders and pinned them to their shirts. Tightly. He was, however, delighted that he escaped wearing lederhosen. You've got to draw the line somewhere.

I have never

This* found a tender spot in me today and I wanted to pass it along in case you found it as lovely as I did, whether you think of it as a love letter from your mama or a lullaby for your babies:

I have never loved someone the way I love you 
I have never seen a smile like yours 
And if you grow up to be king or clown or pauper 
I will say you are my favorite one in town 

I have never held a hand so soft and sacred 
When I hear your laugh I know heaven’s key 
And when I grow to be a poppy in the graveyard 
I will send you all my love upon the breeze 

And if the breeze won’t blow your way, I will be the sun 
And if the sun won’t shine your way, I will be the rain 
And if the rain won’t wash away all your aches and pains 
I will find some other way to tell you you’re okay

*My mom sent me the link to this beautiful song today, written and sung by My Brightest Diamond (Shara Worden) for her son. According to the notes by the filmmaker, "After the concert I finally dared to ask her what I wanted to ask her that morning, to sing us this lullaby that struck me down. It’s Sunday morning, a morning of hangovers. The whole hotel seems suspended in the air. We ask her to get to the bar, to make it sing for her, to sing for her son (for whom she had written this song). We erase ourselves. She, she doesn’t. After we're done filming, I cry. She cries too."

She found it on Krista Tippets' On Being blog, which I LOVE.

Time Travel Music

Tomorrow Maddy and I are going to the Boston Ballet's production of Prokoviev's Romeo & Juliet. Years ago (um...23 years? can that be right?) I was a sophomore at one universaity and G was a student at another university several hours away. We weren't the Montagues and Capulets but we were in the very beginnings of liking each other very very much, torn apart by miles and college mascots and student poverty.

(This is not us^)

Well. My mom also really liked G and took pity on our separated plight. She bought the family tickets to Romeo & Juliet, offered one to me and one to G, and we all met in the middle in Salt Lake City. I gussied myself up for an evening at the ballet in a black velvet skirt borrowed from my roommate and a high collared blouse (paging Laura Ashley...); G suited up and looked especially dashing. We were unabashedly thrilled to see each other, G and I, grinning and blushing and sending off all sorts of young love vibes, I'm sure.

Can music break your heart wide open? I think yes. Hat tip to Prokoviev. I can't listen to that music without time traveling to that perfect night.

. . .

Which made me think. What other songs take me directly to certain moments in my life? What songs would have to be on my life's soundtrack? Here are a few I came up with, listed chronologically. Keep in mind I didn't really have control over which songs would become important; some of them are pretty silly. The song chooses us, not the other way around! (Here's a link to the playlist if you happen to want to listen to any of these.)

1. Help (The Beatles): I vividly remember dancing in front of our sofa to this song, kicking up my legs with every "Help!" 
2. Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue (Crystal Gayle): This was on the radio when I went with my dad to pick up our babysitter and I suddenly realized it wasn't "doughnuts make my brown eyes blue."
3. Annie's Song (John Denver): I thought this was for me. True.
4. Copacabana (Barry Manilow): My friend Teri, my brother Matt and I would put together whole lip-synched, choreographed programs. Copacabana was featured often. I was a showgirl.
5. Adagio for Strings (Barber): This was the first classical piece I remember being floored by. My parents told me it was played at JFK's funeral and I played it over and over on our turntable. I liked how sad it made me feel. Sometimes I could even muster tears.
6. We Make a Beautiful Pair (Shenandoah): My mom played the harp in the HS musical productions and this was one of my favorites. We had the sheet music and Matt and I would sing it together. Years later I sang it with my mom and sister Nancy at my wedding brunch.
7. Don't You Want Me (The Human League): One summer my cousin Isaac and I sang this as a duet over and over. It reminds me of swimming pools and hot un-airconditioned cars and singing my heart out.
8. The Gap (Thompson Twins): I went to a girl's camp called Academy for Girls (kind of an EFY but just for girls). Our group did a dance to this song for the talent show.
9. Almost Paradise (Mike Reno/Ann Wilson): My mom would tell you I played this NONSTOP on a family trip to Mexico. She would be right. I was really in love with love.
10. Rhapsody on a Theme from Paganini (Rachmaninoff): The neighbor boy would play this at the end of his piano practicing, his signal that I should come over. Me and Pavlov's dogs, so easily trained and conditioned. 
11. O! Mio Babbino Caro from Gianni Schicchi (Puccini): My first date with G was after this opera; I was an usher and he played the bass in the orchestra. It was dreamy.
12. Romeo bids Juliet Farewell (Prokofiev): See above.
13. The Promise (When in Rome): To counterbalance all the gushing, I'll confess that this was playing on the stereo in the car during one of our worst dates ever. I was irritated, he was clueless and bewildered why I was irritated. We survived.
14. Bullet the Blue Sky (U2): I ran to this song every single day in London for six months. Whenever I hear "pelting the women and children" I can smell car exhaust and feel like running really hard around a park.
15. Could I Have This Dance (Anne Murray): The awesome and quirky big band at our wedding reception played this for our first dance. So kitchy, so corny. We laughed and went with it.

Okay, that's enough for now.

So, friends. What about you? What music makes you time travel to a specific moment, a certain memory?

. . .

Today I'm grateful for blue skies, pears on the early side of ripe, putting things in perspective, and this song (from the classic An Affair to Remember) that my mom always sang us as a lullaby

Now I see...

Sam learned this on the ukelele for Maddy because it's one of her favorites.
I made him re-enact singing it for her for the first time because my camera didn't catch the audio the first time.
Hence, the hint of reluctance on his part.

I adore it.

(Via the awesome 8mm app & my iphone camera.)

p.s. Sorry about the finger sneaking in there. Also, church is already canceled tomorrow, thanks to Irene. Everyone stay safe out there!

Midsummer playlist

 

Yesterday was a completely quiet day around here, just Louie and me. I thought I would spend all day with my nose to the writing grindstone but instead (in a classic case of productive neglect) I decided to clean the studio, organize my computer, and create a few playlists.  Suddenly that felt very urgent, you know?

This playlist is full of songs I'm listening to this summer, mostly recent music but also a few summer classics from years gone by. You can listen to the whole thing on Spotify* if you have it but, if not, here's a list in case you are also trying to avoid deadlines like me:

1. Barton Hollow ~ The Civil Wars
2. Jungle Drum ~ Emiliana Torrini
3. North ~ Chris Merritt
4. Towers ~ Bon Iver
5. Romeo & Juliet, 39, Romeo bids farewell ~ Prokofiev
6. Someone Like You ~ Adele 7. What is Love? ~ Howard Jones
8. Charlie Darwin ~ The Low Anthem
9. Awake my Soul ~ Mumford & Sons
10. O Mio Babbino Caro ~ Gianni Schicci
11. Human Orchestra ~ Mark Bradshaw
12. It's Oh So Quiet ~ Bjork
13. Poison & Wine ~ The Civil Wars
14. Via con me ~ Paolo Conte
15. Pumped Up Kicks ~ Foster the People 
16. Sugar ~ Chris Merritt
17. Mama, You Been On My Mind ~ Jeff Buckley
18. Doctor! Doctor! ~ Thompson Twins
19. Ghostwriter ~ RJD2
20. Some Things are Meant to Be ~ Little Women musical
21. Gravity ~ Sara Bareilles
22. Don't You Remember ~ Adele 

Taking a closer look now, there are some themes there, I think.  Fun. Love. Warmth. Some mellow nostalgia. A little melancholy there at the end. Yup, that's this summer from the view in my shoes, pretty much.  

What's your favorite song of this summer?

. . .

*I know I told everybody to join Spotify but I should add (thanks, Sarah) that you have to request an invite by entering your email address on the site. It only took a day or two for me to get the invite. I forgot to mention that before. 

photo via dandelionandgrey

Holi again

For those of you who wondered about it, here's a video of the Holi Festival of Colors where Lauren had such a blast last weekend.  Oh, and incidentally, my cool cousin Aaron did the music for this clip. 

Doesn't that look amazing? I love the moments when the colors are thrown. So brilliant.

I need more color in my life. (There's an April Fools Day snowstorm predicted around here tomorrow. Boo.)

He rose from his sick bed

Sam had a piano recital today and we weren't entirely sure whether he'd make it, what with the whole stomach flu thing afflicting him since Tuesday, but he did it and with gusto (and a few pre-recital butterflies). Sam's awesome piano teacher has really encouraged his composing as well as his playing and so they chose this Sam original for today's performance. I give you Anxiety, with an embellishment of some guy's cough and my gritty realism (shaky) camera skills:

It made me remember piano recitals of my youth. It's where I first learned that I get sweaty hands when I'm nervous. And then I get really, really sleepy, which is the opposite of the adrenaline boost that would be helpful. I remember having odd, out-of-body thoughts like "those are my fingers playing this song. Weird. I'm really sleepy. How do I even remember the notes? DO I remember the notes?" and then I'd either stumble or, miraculously, my fingers would take over without needing my pesky brain.

I love that Sam called this Anxiety. It's like a musical map to one of his emotions. A window into his (not pesky at all) brain.

Sunshine

 

You are My Sunshine is a special anthem of love in our family.

G's Grandpa Lee has sung it to generations of Lee family babies (and grown ups, too). Probably we're not alone there. 

It's a good song.

Maybe that's why this did such a great job of warming the cockles of our snow-day, stuck inside hearts:

Oh my goodness. 

I can see why programs like Roots of Empathy have come up with the innovative idea of inviting babies and their mothers in the classroom to help prevent/reduce bullying and encourage empathy and kindness. Just softens the heart right up. 

p.s. I love studying babies but, help me Rhonda, sometimes it makes my uterus ache a little.

Love in that stable was born

Nativity Carol

Born in a stable so bare,
Born so long ago;
Born neath light of star
He who loved us so.

Far away, silent He lay,
Born today, your homage pay,
Christ is born for aye,
Born on Christmas Day.

Cradled by mother so fair,
Tender her lullaby;
Over her son so dear
Angel hosts fill the sky.

Far away, silent He lay,
Born today, your homage pay,
Christ is born for aye,
Born on Christmas Day.

Wise men from distant far land,
Shepherds from starry hills
Worship this babe so rare,
Hearts with His warmth He fills.

Far away, silent He lay,
Born today, your homage pay,
Christ is born for aye,
Born on Christmas Day.

Love in that stable was born
Into our hearts to flow;
Innocent dreaming babe,
Make me Thy love to know.

Far away, silent he lay,
Born today, your homage pay,
Christ is born for aye,
Born on Christmas Day.

~John Rutter

This fills my heart. I hope it fills yours today.

Actually this fills my heart enough to break it open a bit. I woke up feeling tender and nostalgic, thinking of those I love who are spread around the country and the world. Some are feeling alone, I know, or struggling with disappointment or grief. I'm sure the contrast of the unabashed joy of the season only makes those feelings more heavy this time of year.

So I just want to say: I love you. Love in that stable was born. Christ was born for aye.

xo

October sprucing

Oh, I love autumn. October, I welcome you with arms wide open.

Unfortunately, my front porch wasn't reflecting that love and was in need of a serious makeover. It looked more like a place to sit with a rifle slung across your lap to scare trespassers away while muttering "git off my propity" between clenched teeth. Not the welcoming message I was after. 

{Maybe my mind just goes there because we started reading To Kill a Mockingbird out loud and I've been thinking about porches and scary neighbors.}

I've had the corners folded down on a couple of catalogs for ages and, lo and behold, when I checked online they were on sale.  It was a sign, a giant green light from the universe.

Ah, much better. It's getting there anyway.  Amazing what just a couple of changes will do.

Red bench , on sale.
3-tiered wire baskets stand , on sale.
Fall cattail wreath (not pictured), not so much on sale. Hey, 2/3 isn't so bad.

Come and sit a spell, you hear?

. . . 

Listen: Theme from To Kill a Mockingbird, Elmer Bernstein

{The whole soundtrack is wonderful; it says childhood + autumn to me.}