I had a revelation today. As the lightning, thunder, wind, rain, snow and sleet came down around me I realize I have a voice.
When I was young, it was channeled into violin, piano and ballet. Then my parents got me a cheap guitar and I started up a mainly tone-deaf band at age 12.
I gave it all up. Singing a solo and being second then first chair violin was stressful. I was very shy and one parent told me I could do anything or be anything, and the other said I was worthless. That guitar was stolen.
A few years ago after I filed our taxes (which I’ve yet to do this year) I went in and bought a starter guitar and signed up for lessons. I took private lessons from a gospel singer, then a drummer. I bought a fancy guitar and the only thing I do for it now is keep it hydrated.
I wondered why I couldn’t keep up the music, then just figured it out in this storm. I’ve found a voice. Some folks around me don’t like it, but for the past 15 years I have a voice. I called both my US Senators today. My voice and my pen (keyboard now) are my instruments for now.
Yes, every once in a while I lay back, close my eyes, tune my guitar and play Bye Bye Miss American Pie, or Teach Your Children, or even 500 Miles. Perhaps I’ll do that now.
My voice needs to be my voice and words until they are no longer needed, then I can play another instrument. I am a multi-tasker but with everything else… Think about it, Dee
Pack up all your cares and woes,
Here I go, singing low, bye bye blackbird
…… blackbird, bye bye.
Last post, they’re selling my posts. I never wanted or got a nickel from them, I will be removing them from WordPress.
I don’t know how to do this as I’m a writer and not a techie, that’s probably why they allow people to steal my words and sell them.
To my readers, I salute you and will be back on other than WordPress. Thank you for being with me and inspiring me these few years. The grandmother who died before I was a year old sang that song to me, to get me to go to sleep. It’s that time. Dee
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Bibs and blankets are the theme here. Margie tells me my husband Jim always carried around a diaper or blanket as a toddler. Now I wash at least 12 tea towels per day that serve as a “bib” to make sure Jim doesn’t get egg yolk on his shirt in the morning or spaghetti sauce at night, plus kitchen duty.
There’s one scratchy blanket over the sofa, more like a “lap robe” that he uses when he’s cold, downstairs. Tonight I told him I found the perfect blanket for him on sale down the street. He talked at length about heft, warmth and feel (I know, I’m a woman and older than him and don’t need lap robes) then mentioned a mastitis blanket. And what the heck is that? Dairy cows sometimes have “udder” (akin to other) problems unknown to you and me.
He recalls his mother saving coupons from mastitis treatment packages for dairy cows and whenever you bought enough, you’d get a blanket. Hence the mastitis blanket. It’s too late to e-mail his mom tonight but what does it mean for a non-farm gal who grew up in farm country for a couple of years to hear things like this? It’s scary. Other-worldly. Plus, I was afraid that she’d go into a drawer somewhere, find one and mail it to me! And now she will.
I’m going to try a really soft, light, warm blanket that he can use, I can easily wash, and know he’ll love it, just as he loved the diapers and blankets of his childhood and lap robes of adulthood. He’ll love it and won’t have to think about milking cows ever again, or of mastitis. An update is warranted on this one! Moooooo, Dee