JULIE!!

If you are REALLY paying attention to my blogs you know that yesterday I put about 5 exclamation points after Billy Collins' name in my title, and today I have only 2 exclamation points after Julie.   While I was interested in seeing and hearing the great Julie Andrews,  I wasn't anticipating her visit nearly as much as Billy Collins.  Having said that, I can say that she and her daughter were very impressive and I'm so glad I got to hear this iconic performer.  My earliest memories of Julie Andrews were in the albums my dad had of the original Broadway casts of My Fair Lady and Camelot.  I actually played a Julie Andrews song at my dad's memorial service.  He loved her voice, and that is how I learned to love her too.  I remember the TV special "Julie and Carol at Carnegie Hall" and I remember particularly the number about Dallas that they sang.  My dad eventually had that album too.


Of course then there was Mary Poppins where she starred with our favorite hometown hero of Danville, Illinois,  Dick Van Dyke.  Somehow we felt like we knew Julie because DVD was from our home town!


So there she was looking FABULOUS!!!  And her daughter is bright and vivacious and they have quite an impressive body of work in children's literature on which they have collaborated.   Her grandchildren were in the audience as well.


She was lovely, and I'm glad I got to see her.  This is Dame Julie taking her seat this morning!

And while I'm at it. . . . this is Billy.   As you can see, I sit in the same spot every day.  Over on the side.  I can get pretty close to the stage and see the speakers in profile.

I know. . . it's blurry.  But Billy is the one in the light colored suit.  I love me some Billy Collins!

This is a view from the Afterwords Cafe on the Plaza.  From my table I can look diagonally across Bestor Plaza and see my mint green house all the way across.  The red brick building you see is the library, and my house is barely visible to the right of it.  There's a white house that kind of looks like a light house in this picture right in front of my house which is between that one and the library.  This is how close I am to the center of the Chautauqua world!

This is another "house of the day!"    This one is along the brick walk which you can see.  The Brick Walk connects the center of the grounds for the distance of at least a half mile.  One can walk to all the major buildings on the grounds using this path which is restricted to walking traffic only.  This is the path I take to go to the Hall of Philosophy to see the afternoon lectures.

And while we're at it again. . . here's Jared playing the huge Massey Organ. . the largest outdoor organ in the world.  I get to hear this organ play every day!

My Reader's Theater class ended today.  I really enjoyed it again.  I'll probably sign up for this one every year.   I listened to the 2:00 lecture for the first time this week.  Love hearing Bishop John Shelby Spong talk about the Bible.  And I'm not a Bible kind of gal.  But he makes so much sense and I marvel at how much this largely church involved community flocks to hear someone who is known for his challenging the teachings of the Bible while still valuing it as a source of spiritual guidance. 

I cannot believe that we are already up to transition day tomorrow!  Week 1 is officially ended and the big turn over comes tomorrow for those that are leaving.  A former colleague of mine from my Garfield Elementary School days, retired librarian Ruth Thorpe was here for the first time this week and fortunately stayed only a block from my place, so I got to see her in passing several times.  I was too busy to be able to share a meal with her, but it is fun to have my worlds collide like that.

A week and a half into my librarian job I will have to say that even though I'm  not able to do all that I have done in the past in the course of a week here, my life has expanded exponentially with this job.  I love the colleagues I work with, and I'm getting to know many many choir members.  It's all good from where I stand in this situation.

Tomorrow I make the trek to Wegmanns and then to run some errands for the choir.   All is exceedingly good in my Utopian summer home!

BILLY!!!!!

I should never skip a day blogging up here.  There's too much to tell for 2 days.  I guess I'll just do highlights!


Yesterday's lecture was Roger Rosenblatt and Meg Wolitzer.  How have I missed this author?  She was hilarious and real and funny and everything she read from her books was something I'd want to read.  Note to self:  my book club selection the next time I host will be  The Position, by Meg Wolitzer.  Although any of her books sound great.


Reader's Theater class has one more day to go.  I've enjoyed it, although I skipped class today to see Billy Collins.  We were in the middle of a play by Tracy Letts called "Superior Donuts" which I was loving.  Luckily the instructor let me bring the play home so I could read how it ended.


Because TODAY was Billy Collins Day.   And it turned out even better than I thought.  Because I think I related that Tuesday's lecturer had a flight cancellation, so Thursday's lecturers were able to fill in.  Which left an opening for today.  And Billy Collins stepped up to the plate to be interviewed by Roger Rosenblatt in addition to being the weekly featured author at 3:30.   Two doses of Billy.  If you did not Google my "Three Blind Mice" selection which I recommended last time, then by all means do that.  Also Google a poem called,  "Another Reason Why I Don't Keep a Gun in the House."   His poems are just too wonderful for words.  And hearing him read them was heaven today.


I was particularly joyful to wake up this morning having gotten a good night's sleep.  The late-in-the-day-cough, which is the final stages of the cold I have had, has kept me from getting a good night's sleep.   In desperation, I drove last night to the local grocery, intent on getting the ingredients to an all natural, home made cough suppressant recipe.   The recipe promised to taste "horrible" and these were the ingredients:  1/4 tsp Cayenne Pepper (need I go on?), 1/4 tsp ground ginger,  1 T honey,  1 T apple cider vinegar, and 1T water.  Hey. . . I was desperate!   So I go up and down the aisles collecting the ingredients and growling about how expensive this little home remedy was going to be and how it better be worth it, when I went by the "Cold Remedies" aisle of the grocery.  From somewhere down that aisle a voice was beckoning me.  "Ruthie. . . . . .come down here!"   And truth be told, at that point, a good bottle of Nyquil was sounding pretty good.   So I went down the aisle, thinking that for sure the Nyquil was calling, and if a bottle of cold remedy could actually manifest itself as a human voice, who was I to resist????  So I get down to where the Nyquil was, and right next to it was a bottle that said:  All Natural Cough Syrup.  I checked the ingredients on the bottle and they were (I am not making this up), cayenne pepper, cinnamon (not ginger), honey (buckwheat as it turns out), apple cider vinegar!!!  And it promised to taste great!  A no-brainer????  I think so!!!  So I bought it and brought it back to the condo and sucked down a couple of teaspoons and it did taste great!  And it helped.  But Ricola drops helped too.  And I got a good night's sleep!  And I woke up almost chipper!!!  Haven't been chipper in over a week!   Boy chipper feels good when you have not felt that way for awhile.   A perfect compliment to Billy Collins Day!


Lots of choir work, but also Jared's noon-time recital on the mighty Massey organ yesterday.  I did NOT need to turn pages which was a huge relief since I wasn't sure at the time if I'd be able to do it without hacking my brains out and spoiling everything!


I have yet to go to the gym.  But now that chipper's back, and my class ends tomorrow, I'm hoping to carve out time for that.


Tonight Nancy and I went to see the movie Hysteria.  My first movie of the season and I nearly wept with joy to be back in the Chautauqua Cinema to see this lovely and funny movie about the invention of vibrators for women in the late 19th century!  You heard me right.  Fabulous movie.  Makes me curious about my grandmothers though. . . . . 


Tomorrow's final lecturer: None other than Dame Julie Andrews and her daughter being interviewed by Roger Rosenblatt.  There will be HUGE crowds for this one.


Week one is cranking down. . . . but I'm cranking up!

MAKING CHOICES

Today I skipped the 10:45 lecture.  It was supposed to be Rosenblatt and cartoonist Jules Feiffer.  But Feiffer's plane couldn't leave NY.  So the guests for later in the week, Derek and Sissela Bok were substituted.  It sounded great because I could hear roars of laughter from the Amp.  However, after doing library business, I decided to go to the Farmer's Market and get some homemade gazpacho to have in the refrigerator.  When I lived in the denominational houses and didn't have my own kitchen, I would go to the Farmer's Market every day for my meals for the day.  On the way to the FM I passed the House of the Day:

I love this house because of its square shape and the really cool wrap-around porch on both floors.  Not sure of the "circa" but it's an old one.  Only about a block from the front gate on Center Ave.


At noon I went to the Hall of Christ to see Jared's tracker organ concert.

This impressive structure is the Hall of Christ, originally built to be a place to study the life of Christ.  It never became that and is one of the only buildings on the ground that is winterized and air-conditioned.  So it's used for concerts and lectures mostly.  We rehearse the Motet Choir there on Tuesday nights.  Inside is the tracker organ.   A tracker organ is totally mechanical instead of electronic.  The organ is very old an came from a church in Nyack, New York.

It is the perfect size for this building.  It has been restored to it's original Victorian color scheme.  A spectacular little organ.  The blower runs now on an electronic motor, but it still has the original large wheel that was pumped by someone to get the air into the pipes before electricity!

This is Jared playing and demonstrating the organ.  I love these little mid-day concerts.  Later tonight we rehearsed here for our Motet Choir.


As I was walking back to my apartment I passed the Hall of Philosophy which I featured yesterday, although I only put a picture of the crowds around it.  This is what it looks like empty:

People will gather in it and then around it on the grounds for as far as the eye can see.  This is for afternoon lectures and also this is where the authors speak on Thursday afternoons.  I will see Billy Collins here in a couple of days.


Our evening concert was The Swingle Singers.  I remember my dad having their records and that I loved their ability to sing Bach using only their voices and syllables.  My love for the music of Bach started with that album.  Now this is a much newer generation of Swingles.  They sing much more contemporary stuff.  But they threw in one Bach piece tonight as well as a breathtaking version of Clair de Lune.   Such unbelievable vocal artistry.  Thoroughly enjoyable.


So now I'm exhausted again and headed for bed.  Cool weather, cooler nights! I need the extra blanket!!!  Sorry. . . . . almost everyone I know who is in the throes of a heat wave!!!

FIRST "ROUTINE" DAY

I got my picture issues figured out today so if you could not view the pictures from the last two days, you should be able to now.  Thanks to my loyal readers who let me know when it wasn't visible, and then when it was!


House of the day:

This beauty on Miller Avenue has such a beautiful garden which really doesn't show up in the picture.  This is circa 1875, very typical of some of the homes here.  Upstairs deck and side porch, along with the color scheme and porch make it a quintessential Chautauqua home!  This is about 2 blocks from my house!


Today the Motet choir (the one that is smaller and sings for the weekly services) performed for the first time at the morning church service.  I was able to croak out the anthem and the call to worship, but very impressively mouthed the words to the hymns.  I bet the congregation really thought I was singing.  


Finished my library business in time to get a seat for the very first "lecture" of the season, which was really an interview by Roger Rosenblatt of Norman Lear, who will turn 90 years old this year!  He was still sharp as a tack.  So much fun to hear him interviewed.  He was writing and producing cutting edge TV for a very long time.   


After that I went to the book review for Billy Collins' book,  "Hororscopes for the Dead,"  which is the book of the week.   The review itself was not my cup of tea, but others seemed to like it.   The book review took place on the porch of this building. . the impressive Alumni Hall.  It's gorgeous inside!

This picture does not do this building justice.  I was sitting in the sunshine on the lawn to the left of the sidewalk you see here and the reviewer was on the porch.  Later today I attended my first Reader's Theater class in the upstairs ballroom of this building.  I have taken several writing classes here.  I love this building!


On the way to the 12:15 review, people were already gathering at the Hall of Philosophy to get seats for the 2:00 afternoon lecture by one of the most popular lecturers that comes to Chautauqua: Retired Bishop of the Episcopal Church: John Shelby Spong.  I have heard him before.  He has much to say about traditional interpretations of biblical text.  He has been labeled a radical and a heretic because he ordained the first woman from the Church of England, and later when he ordained the first openly gay priest.  He believes that the Bible has been used to support prejudices and to mask violence.  Up here people FLOCK to hear what he has to say.  I don't know if I will be able to make these lectures with my work schedule, but I will have the opportunity to buy CD copies of the lectures which I may do.  I have heard him in years past.

This is a view from Alumni Hall looking across the hundreds of people who are sitting on the lawn listening to Bishop Spong in the Hall of Philosophy, barely visible by the white columns in the distance.  It's so amazing to see the huge quiet crowds straining to hear every word of a great speaker!


At my Reader's Theater Class we began reading a play about the discovery of DNA.  There were more readers than parts, so I decided to volunteer to rest my voice and just listen.  Perhaps I'll read tomorrow.  I really enjoy reading through plays!


My cohorts in the music library gig, Nancy and Jean, joined our "boss" Jared, the organist/choir director for dinner at Andriaccio's Italian Restaurant outside the grounds tonight.  We spent a couple of hours there having a great dinner and discussing choir business.  I'm really getting to know Jared this year.  He is a virtuoso organist/pianist. What treasure to listen to him play each year.  On Wednesday he'll give an organ recital on the mighty Massey, and yours truly will be his page turner!   That is really something!


One of the best parts about today is that it was cool enough for everyone to be walking around in sweatshirts.  Only 3 days ago it was sweltering.  Several big storms that went through over night changed all that.  We have a week of 70's coming up in stark contrast to the 100 degree temperatures predicted in Afton and Washington, DC!


It's been a rich and full day for sure.  I'm hitting the hay to get up tomorrow and go again! 

THREE TAPS 2012

It is after 11 and I've just returned from a librarian's meeting. I'm delighted to say that the first weekend with two performances by the big choir (The Chautauqua Choir) went off without a hitch!  We received kudos all around from the choir for our efforts.  Feels great!


The Sunday service today started with the traditional Three Taps of the Gavel which officially opens the season.  


Here's the massive amphitheater as people were starting to arrive:

This is the view from the choir loft and the place was almost filled for the morning service.  Capacity: 5000!  This is an old wooden building with old wooden benches.  The organ sounds fabulous in this building.  Jared the Organist/Choir Master opened the season with a piece by Olivier Messiaen called Vision of the Eternal Church.  This was really special to me because I played it on my junior recital in college and I don't think I have heard it since.  As a special treat, Jared gave me his copy of the music, which he downloaded off the web.  Things have changed since the late 60's!!


Here's the "house of the day"  (I don't know if I'll include a house picture every day. . . but now that I have the IPhone and the capacity to take pictures and post them, it behooves me to let you see what this place looks like, a little at a time:

This is a tiny little house called Thumbelina and it sits right at the end of Bestor Plaza in the center of town.  Very typical of Chautauqua architecture .

Also, I saw this on a walk through the green part of the plaza:

I know it looks like he is peeing in the fountain, but he's just playing with one of the gargoyles that spouts water. Seeing children playing in the fountains is a very typical sight.. . . especially on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.


Tomorrow, along with the lecture series featuring Roger Rosenblatt, I begin my second season of taking the Reader's Theater Class.  I loved this class last year so I re-upped!  This is before I knew I had this library gig.  But our long meeting tonight was to lay out our hours for the coming week.  My two cohorts and I want to make sure that we all get to do what we came here to do, along with doing the job.   Tomorrow night the three of us and Jared are going out to dinner!  This is a first!   I'm looking forward to this social time with these other musician friends.


Sore throat being persistent, but getting a little better every day.  Haven't had time to go to the gym even once, but that has got to be remedied this week!


I'm completely ready for what week 1 has to bring!

CHAUTAUQUA 2012

It is Saturday:  the official arrival day of the Chautauqua community.  However, the joint has been jumping for some time now with all the getting ready preparations.  I have been here since Wednesday, as I have a new job!  Our choir librarian of many years retired at the end of last season, and given a dearth of replacement candidates, the decision was made to have an interim committee of 3 choir members share the job for one season to see just what the job description entailed.  I was approached about this a month ago, and the three of us, Jean, Nancy and myself, have reluctantly albeit willing agreed to give it a go.  So since Wednesday night, we have been hard at work checking in new music, filling folders, working on registrations and all the other many tasks that make up getting a 150+ volunteer chorus off the ground. A chorus that practiced last night (Friday), will do so again tonight and then perform twice on Sunday.


After that we prepare for the weekly Motet Choir that sings Monday - Friday.  It's not exactly the way I wanted to spend my summer.  Working in all the other things I love to do will be a challenge.  But on the other hand, being needed is always lovely and my other two buddies are fun to spend time with.  So what the heck. .  . let this new, one-of-a-kind season begin.


Above you see a picture of the very first edition of the 2012 Chautauquan Daily that arrived on my porch this morning.  Brought to me by Matt, the great delivery kid that I had last year.  You might remember from my blog last year my relating the story of his breaking his arm, but keeping his route. This year he is a manager of some kind at the paper, but still has his route.  This kid is going to be a success!


Inside this weekend edition of the paper is a run down of everything that will transpire in the coming week.  The Theme for Week 1 is "Roger Rosenblatt and Friends on the Literary Arts."  This is a theme that comes around often as author, essayist, playwright Rosenblatt brings some of his literary friends to the amphitheater each day for highly entertaining and enlightening interviews during the 10:45 lecture hour.  This week:   Monday: TV writer/producer Norman Lear,  Tuesday: Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist/author Jules Feiffer,   Wednesday: New York Times best-selling author Meg Wolitzer,  Thursday: from Harvard University, Derek and Sissela Bok.  On Friday: Dame Julie Andrews and her daughter Emily Walton Hamilton.  That's just for the first week!


The author this week is poet Billy Collins.  I first heard him read his poetry on Prairie Home Companion and I was hooked!  While you're at it,  Google "Billy Collins Three Blind Mice" and you'll find the poem he read on  PHC that impressed me so much.   I have bought his books of poetry over the years including the new one for this week:  Horoscopes for the Dead.  This is just the most wonderful book full of funny, profound verse that begs to be read aloud.  I'm so excited to get to hear him speak on Thursday afternoon.


On the performance front this week we have:  vocal group: Under the Streetlamp tonight.  The Swingle Singers (my dad had their records. . . they sang classical, mostly baroque, pieces using vocal syllables.  To hear instrumental Bach sung by this group was a delight to the ears) on Tuesday.  Wednesday night is the Family Special with Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom.  The first dance concert of the year is Thursday.  Friday is The Righteous Brothers' Bill Medley, and Gary Puckett and the Union Gap,  Saturday is the first Symphony Concert with Peter Serkin on  Piano.


The play that opens this week is The Philadelphia Story.  And there is a whole menu of movies being offered.


According to President Tom Becker:  "This small, but beautiful and historic site will come alive with song, speech, dance, pictures, films, worship, meditation, play, and so much more.  This is the preeminent expression of lifelong learning on the planet.  Welcome!"


On the friend front, I just looked up to see a woman from the choir drop off a large bag in front of my house.  Last year I had told her about my habit of buying yarn at thrift shops, knitting something with them, and then either giving the item away, or donating the item back to the thrift shop.  She remembered that and brought me a bag full of enough yarn to knit the Titanic!  I'd better dust off those needles while I'm at it!  This is how Chautauqua is. . . . friends who remember what is told to them, and then take action if possible!


I've been battling a sore throat that started on the trip up, and seems to be abating today.  So I'm going to get my body out to the gym for a workout and then get showered and fed before getting to choir early tonight.. . . because, after all, I'm one of the librarians.


I could not be more excited about the upcoming week!   (Here's my home. . . bottom door, right under the flags!)

MISSING MEN

This is one of those titles that reads like a really good crossword puzzle clue.  I mean, am I saying "missing" as a verb?   Like "I miss men!"   Or is "missing" an adjective and I'm going to write about men somewhere who can't be found?


People who know me would say the latter.  My boys would say the latter as well.  Because if you asked either of them they would tell you that their mother hates all men.  I'm really not sure if they believe that or not.  Even when I tell them that it isn't true.  However, they have heard more than their share of me complaining about the opposite gender.


I like to think that at this point in my life I can truly say that I don't hate anybody.  That has not always been the case.


But given my past, I have had reasons to be angry and frustrated with men.  Like men whose brains reside below the waist.   Like men who run after women 10-30 years younger than they are so that they can try to forget that they are getting older as well.  Like men who still think fart jokes are funny.   And yell and scream with approval and enthusiasm any time anyone uses a profanity or suggests getting drunk.


I am most definitely not a prude.  But I like to think I'm a grown up.  And even though I can act like a little kid with the best of them,  I have spent the bulk of the last 40 years solidly grounded in the adult world.


So it will surprise you to know that the title of this blog refers to "missing" as a verb.   As in "I miss men."


As most of my friends know I am militantly single.  I have absolutely no desire to ever be married again. I'm not sure I would want to even "go steady."  By now I'm too comfortable and happy on my own.  I really can't imagine having to ask someone else's opinion on the color of the living room or which video to watch.  Let's make that clear from the beginning.


But as a result, I live in a world with a dearth of men.  And now, having left the Choral Arts Society, my man supply has dried up!   And the Choral Arts men were spectacular.  In the first place we all had a lot in common!  We were accomplished choral singers.  We shared the same rehearsals, challenges and schedules.  At break time there was a lot to talk about. There was never that awkward "getting acquainted" phase.  At break time,  I always gravitated towards the men.  I really love being around men.  And these guys were just the greatest.  I had major crushes on several of them,  went on a disastrous date with another, and LOVED the fact that lots of them were gay which made them the most fun men on the planet.  One bass was the father of some kids I taught in elementary school.  One was a tenor I stood next to during our Stephen Sondheim tribute conducted by Marvin Hamlisch (and which performance SS himself attended!!!) and this tenor and I greeted each other ever after with "Ruthie Baby"  on his part, and "Bobby Bubbie" on mine (taken from one of the songs).   One of them was a college professor from West Virginia who I adored trading little asides throughout rehearsals. . . which wasn't easy since we both sat right smack in front of Norman.  One of  the men in the choir is a Facebook regular and sent me really meaningful comments when I posted a picture or something.  One of them was the president of the choir whom I sat next to on the bus coming home from our Carnegie Hall gig in New York last year and we solved a Washington Post crossword puzzle together and laughed and laughed.  Another was a brand new tenor this year whom I often stood next to in concerts and whose vocal abilities blew me away, and whose wonderful personality made him one of my best friends in the course of one year.  There was the former president whom I stood next to in numerous performances and referred to me as his Choral Arts wife!  And there was Norman.  The top man of the group.  Being demanding and crabby on the one hand, and incredibly tender and sweet on the other.


Being around a man, especially a really cool, emotionally mature(but not stuffy) man is different than being around a girl friend.  I LOVE my girlfriends.  Could not live without them.  But being around a man, even one where there is no romantic interest present, just generates a chemistry that being around a woman does not (at least not for me!).   I have basked in the exposure to my male Choral Arts buddies and have been fortunate to actually be able to stand next to them during most performances, thanks to Norman's concert seating assignments.  Which means I got to blend my voice with the tenors and play off their parts, which is pure musical fun. . . such a treat.


With all the endings that leaving this choir represents, I've just realized that one of the biggest endings is to my supply of wonderful men to hang around with, shoot the breeze with, flirt with, sing with, and share this music with.


No doubt about it.  I'm going to miss my men.

AND ON A RELATED TOPIC:

Yesterday I discussed eras.  Today I want to tackle phases!  Similar in concept to eras,  phases are stages through which we pass.  No one knows what sets off a phase, or how long it will last.  Or how you will feel about it in retrospect.


For some reason, I am in the middle of a full-blown ORANGE phase.  I have no idea where it came from.  I can't get enough orange . . . . .as in the color orange.  I don't remember liking orange before.   I'm also in a phase where I can't get enough cabbage, but I'm not sure it's related.


So today I was killing time before going off to choir tonight.  I went to DSW to look for some new Sketcher sandals.  I bought two pairs of the same style, one black, one brown last year.  Best sandals I ever had.  Have seen the same style in even more colors on friends, so I decided to go today to see if I could supplement my sandal supply.  I have the worst time finding comfortable shoes.  It's been an issue my whole life.   So when I find those that fit and that are comfortable, I'll buy pairs to store in my closet for when the first ones wear out.  And if I find them in colors. . . . . . well one of each, please.  


So I'm at DSW and there are no Sketcher sandals there anymore.  Word must have gotten around.   But as I am prone to do of late, I started going up and down the aisles looking for one thing. . . . . . . anything orange.  Shoes, scarves, purses . .  .which is about all they have there.  I have recently bought a bunch of new clothes, and orange seems to be the theme.  


Lest you think my new phase is limited to clothes and shoes, let me remind you that the front door of my new house is orange, the couch is orange, and I have two new orange chairs in the front yard.  The word "madness" springs to mind.


I didn't buy anything at DSW.   So I went to Kohls, where I have bought several orange items in the past.  They had Sketcher sandals but not in the size I wanted.   But I found some orange sandals I liked from another manufacturer.  I had $10 in Kohl's cash. . . how could I resist?  Not only that, but Kohls sells a lot more than scarves, shoes and purses.   There was a whole store waiting for me to stalk down all the orange items.  I resisted orange towels, orange pots and pans, orange jammies, orange slippers, orange jewelry. . . well, you get the idea.  Luckily I just bought the sandals.  Surely a miracle now that I'm mortgage free.  Of course, I'm always limited by the amount of space I don't have at home to put things.  WHEW!


Now that I'm committed to sandals, I'm going to have to go back and get my pre-Chautauqua pedicure (see blog entry from last June or July about my red sparkly toes!).   Of course there will be no red sparkly toes this year.   Nope. . . . you guessed it. .  . ORANGE.


I have no idea how long this will last, but if I get over this phase soon, the thrift shop is going to have plenty of clothes for the Halloween season!

ENDS OF ERAS

I know. . . .  two blogs in three days. . . . I'm on a roll.   Flexing my muscles for the daily blogging that tends to happen once I'm in Chautauqua. . . . . . a mere week away!!


Remember the old poem:  "How many eras could an old lady end if an old lady could end eras?"  Okay. . . . that was lame.  Maybe I should have waited an extra day to blog this.


But eras ending.  It happens all the time. I think mostly we don't realize we're even in an "era" until it's about to be over and we find ourselves thinking. . . .end of an era!!  


Yesterday I found that eras of my life were literally crumbling around me.  I was in an era earthquake!  It would have been disconcerting if I had not taken the energy to stop and remind myself that each ending of each era is also the beginning of a new one.  Yes. . . that feels better. . . . beginning of a new era.


As I left home yesterday for the many hundredth time to drive to DC from Afton for the purpose of attending a choir rehearsal or performance, I realized that this was the very last trip I would be making in that direction for that purpose.   I don't mean to stop coming north.  Not given the fact that I love DC so much and I love my sons so much, and let's face it. . . . I know the way!


But my little routine that I have developed over the last 5 years is about to end.  Leave Afton around noon,  pick which route I want to get either through (cheap gas) or around (gorgeous scenery) Charlottesville, stop for ice coffee, stop to go to the bathroom and peruse antique mall, get to Dave's in time to unpack, sushi, choir, Dave's.  That's been the plan. . .  over and over and over.   And as I'm writing this I realize I won't be doing that plan ever again.  And when I leave to go home on Thursday after my final performance: leave Dave's early, stop at Wegman's for sushi breakfast (yes, it's true) and organic vegetables, stop for cheap gas in Charlottesville and home by noon. . . . I won't be doing that routine again.   Those routines are kind of like old friends.


And then yesterday I got to Dave's and let myself in with the garage door opener that I have had in my car forever.   And I realized. . . . . I'm never going to walk into Dave's house again.   Because by the time I return from Chautauqua in August, the house will have transferred to the new owner.   And this era is more significant than it would seem. This house has been part of my life for over 20 years!   Dave and I started dating when Chad was 9 or 10.   Our two oldest sons were in the same cub scout troop and that is how I met Dave.  And since that was the Weblos level, the year of father and son dens,  and Chad did not have a father who was interested in participating in that,  I was the lone mother who was representing a father in that den.  Now that I think about it. . . . no wonder Chad has issues!   This house from where I'm typing right now became an important place for me and my two boys.  When it was Dave's turn to have the cubs at his house for a project they gathered in his woodshop in his basement and turned out wooden spoons and gizmos.   I stayed up in the family room listening to the sound of the kids and the tools in the basement below me. . . my finger hovering over the "1" button on the phone (having previously already dialed in the "9" and the other "1") in case a finger got lopped off by a machine and I had to summon help!


For six years the kids and I, and sometimes just I, spent time at this house, turning it into a second home for us.   After Dave and I broke up, I didn't see this house for a few years, but then a residual friendship sprang up between us which eventually resulted in his gracious invitation to let me again use it as a second home when I was in DC for choir, or in fact, any other reason I wanted to be up here.  90% of the time Dave is not even here when I am. . . at the moment he is in Sedona speaking for something or another.  But when I leave on Thursday I'm going to have to be careful to get all my stuff out of the closet in "my room" which has been my headquarters for any event I have come to when I come to DC.  I've even brought friends to stay here.   And I will have to remember to drop the garage door opener on the kitchen counter before I leave.   Dave and I vowed to share a bottle of champagne (which we have done many times) before we ended the era of this house.  But it seems we won't have the opportunity to do that.


As I drove to choir last night from Dave's I stopped at a stop light right by Garfield Elementary School and I recalled an era that ended over 10 years ago when I left that school for my new job teaching pregnant middle school girls.  As I looked at that school yesterday I remembered it as my very favorite teaching job.  An era that produced some of my closest friends and my most memorable times with kids.  It was the golden era of my teaching career.


And then rehearsal. . . . in the Washington National Cathedral.  Norman has ended my choir era by placing me, once again, in the front row center, right next to Mario the Magnificent, a  tenor who is new this year, and Andy the Adorable, the tenor I would marry if he was not already married (story of my life!).   And, as it happens, I am standing almost exactly in the same place I stood with the Choral Arts Society nearly 40 years ago when as a newbie I sang under the baton of Leonard Bernstein.  As I stood in that place and looked up at the grandeur of the cathedral all around me, and realized that it looked just as it had 40 years ago when I stood there with my jaw on the floor, I had one of those experiences you have when you are aware of the passage of time.   Like next Wednesday when I drive through the gates of Chautauqua I will no doubt think, probably out loud,  "YIKES - a whole year has passed!"    Only last night as I stared straight ahead to the massive stained glass Rose Window in the back of the cathedral,  I thought,  "YIKES - FORTY YEARS HAVE PASSED!"


Such are eras.  Looking back they are little clumps of memories all categorized and organized for easy remembering.   Today I'm grateful beyond measure for all of my ERAS.   And for my memories.   And for the absolute assuredness that I have that there are more eras to come.

IN PRAISE OF GOOD WINDOWS

It's Sunday morning and I'm blogging in bed.  Ahhh . . . . . this is heaven.  When I was approaching retirement I used to say that what I was looking forward to the most was to getting up in the morning when my body wanted to.  No alarm clocks. Now, 5 years later, I can proclaim that it is still my favorite thing. . . I really hated getting up with an alarm.


However, with my workout schedule being what it is, I have to be aware of when I get up 5 days a week.  I can usually do it without the alarm.  On Mondays and Fridays I don't work out until 9:45.  But I like to be up a couple hours before that to get my juicing done and in my system.  On Tuesdays my weight lifting class is at 7:30, so sometimes I do use the alarm.  It's my earliest class, but my favorite so I guess that's okay.  On Thursday is the dreaded cardio class at 8:00. That's not too early, I guess, but I have such a bad attitude about that class I set the alarm as a back up.   And on Saturday, the last class of the day is at 8:40 AM.  Only on Sundays do I have free reign to sleep as late as I want.  And I always celebrate that by staying up way too late on Saturday night.  Not partying. . . .just "farting around" as I like to say.  A little video here, a chapter or two of reading there, a couple of rows on the knitting, a couple of tunes on the piano, maybe getting the vegetables ready for the morning juicing, a game or two of Scrabble on the IPhone.  Just a regular evening in the Attention Deficit world I occupy.


Last night I did what I often do depending on what the overnight temps are going to be.  I cracked the windows in my bedroom.  I have the greatest windows in my house.  In fact the house was designed around them, as Duncan the Builder had them left over from another building job and gave them to me at cost.  Casement windows made by Jeld-Win.  When I first was buying the crappy little house, one of the things I noticed was that even though it sits way back from Rt. 151, behind a vacant medical building, it sounded like the highway was coming right through the living room. That was a cause for some concern.  Duncan assured me that with the right insulation and windows, that problem would be solved.


And he was right!  I hear nothing when all the windows are closed.  But if I crack them or open them, there's that highway!  I've gotten used to it.  Particularly at night.  We're not talking freeway here. . . just a two lane, curvy road that since the early 70's has been the main road leading to the Wintergreen Golf and Ski Resort.  By evening, everyone is usually settled in. Then the only thing to contend with is the large trucks that use the road as a cut off between Interstate 64 and Rt. 29 south.  This is a bone of contention in the community.  A tragic accident that resulted in the deaths of a mother and her two young children a couple of years back was caused by one such trucker.  But the trucks still come, and at night, through the cracked windows I can hear them. But much like the fabled New Yorkers who swear they adjust to the sound of the trains going by outside their bedroom windows every few minutes,  I don't hear the trucks when I'm sleeping.  Or the hound dogs off in the neighbors field when they smell a fox and go stark raving mad in the middle of the night.  Or the cows in the pasture that take to bawling for no apparent reason (oh I'm sure there's a reason. . . if I was out in the field with them the reason might become very apparent).  Country living writ large.


So here I am in bed on the only morning of the week where I don't have to think about what time I'm getting up.  My "free" morning.  (I know, I know.  . . people who still go to work every day want to go for my throat about now. . . but everything's relative!!). 


And I am awakened, BRUTALLY, by the blast of bluegrass music.   My first instinct, AT 6:45 THIS MORNING, is actually to laugh.   And before the sleep has cleared my eyes my mind has traveled back in time to when we used to watch The Andy Griffith Show.  My family LOVED that show.  And our favorite episodes were the ones with the character of Briscoe Darling and his sons and his one daughter, Sharlene.  They were mountain people come down from the hills.  Briscoe and his sons were a blue grass band.  They sang songs like Salty Dog, Slimy River Bottom, Put Your Money in your Shoes So It Won't Get Wet, and Tearin' Up Your Old Clothes For Rags.   I can still see and hear my dad laughing at the titles of the songs.  And in the first episode that featured the band, Briscoe checks into the local boarding house and then sneaks the boys up through the window so that he only has to pay for one person.  And they "rehearse" all night. And in the darkness comes the sound of the blue grass banjo pickin', jug-blowin', fiddlin' cacophony that continues to wake the town, causing Andy to have to figure out how to catch them and find a solution.  Eventually he arrests them and they all go over to the jail where Andy joins them on the guitar and they practice to their hearts' content.  Classic Andy Griffith!  And that's what I thought this morning, before I took the time to wonder why the Darlings had suddenly arrived in my back yard!


My closest neighbors live across the side yard (well actually since I moved the front door, maybe it's my back yard!) about 50 feet.  Joyce is a lovely old country woman with a piercing voice when she is cajoling her Yorkshire Terrier Mimi to stay out of my yard.  I have no idea why Mimi hasn't been grabbed by a passing hawk to tell you the truth. Everyone around here knows that you better not fall in love with a small pet, what with the predatory birds everywhere.   Joyce has a son, Mike, who is, in his own words, a convicted felon.  George the Trainer told me that once he picked up Mike who was hitchhiking, and the first thing Mike said to him was "I'm a convicted felon."   Mike was in a tragic accident as a teenager (I got this story from his cousin, also named Mike, who worked on my house), where his best friend was killed and Mike (the convicted felon, not the house worker) has a large scar across his face to show for it.  Apparently, he never fully recovered and like so many other Nelson County natives, descended into a fog of drugs and alcohol.  He comes home after serving time, and stays with Joyce until she kicks him out again.  In the meantime, since he can't drive, he works in their garden or hitchhikes up and down Rt. 151 to get where he needs to go.   He's also an early riser. . . . .and even if I'm not. . . . . I kind of admire those that are!


So it was Mike up with the chickens (actually I don't think they have any chickens) this morning, pounding stakes into the garden and deciding that loud blue grass music would be the perfect accompaniment to that activity.  And truth be told, I agree with that!


But it was 6:45!  My one morning to sleep in!  I know plenty of people, probably native New Yorkers,  who would have shouted out the window to "TURN THE MUSIC DOWN!!"  But let's review. . . . convicted felon. . . .. .drugs and alcohol. . . . .


So I just simply went over and closed the windows.  They had only been open a crack,  but even at that it felt like the Darlings were sitting on my bed tapping out a tune.  Once my fancy-schmancy Jeld-Wins were closed. . .. . perfect peace!


Back to sleep for another TWO HOURS!!!!!


If you need to replace your windows. . . . go for the good ones.  You won't be sorry.