It is sad when memorial day becomes more a celebration of no school and/or work, and the reality that the sun is actually shinning on the Island and has been the entire weekend. With that said I was reflecting on the real meaning, the reality that a lot of people have sacrificed themselves so that I can appreciate the day of no school/work and the extra weekend day of beautiful sunshine. Some sacrificed by laying down their lives, but I think the greater sacrifice was for those that layed down the quality of their lives for the rest of us. For all those "walking wounded" that live out there, many on the streets where few care if they live or die, and many carrying around burdens deep in their souls that can only be removed with the greater light that death will bring us all. That said, it is amazing how little war has directly affected me.
Both my parents were World War 2 participants, Dad in the Navy communications division and mom was a P.T. in the medical Corp of the Army. Larry served during Viet Nam as a jet mechanic on a carrier off the coast of the country. My brother opted not to serve and I wanted to but didn't....long story, bottom line, I didn't. I knew only one person that was killed in Viet Nam. He was a local boy that was just big, kind of a bully and not too bright. But in death he was honored like he never was in life, honored and I suspect forgotten by most of us. (Jim Langworthy if anyone needs a name). But I reflect back on another childhood friend, Everett, and the burden that he has carried since Viet Nam. There is a part of him that never came back, an important part that allowed him to bond. Maybe he saw too many of his friends taken at too early an age, I don't know, but I do know it has affected him greatly. His wounds will only heal when he passes from this life. And the wounds his challenges have caused also. The mother that loves him and has been removed from his life for years and years. The friends and siblings that are not welcomed beyond superficially.
Yes, war stinks but freedom smells really sweet. So today I do not mourn those that gave their all, I mourn those that gave their yesterdays, their today's and their tomorrows. And with that statement I will try to be more sensitive to others and look beyond their put-off kind of behaviors and give real thanks for their sacrifice and pray it will not be asked again. And yet knowing that it will be asked again, asked of me and mine.....but knowing there is a plan from our Father in Heaven and all will be well. So I celebrate it all today....and then hit a rehearsal to celebrate a young man that has practiced enough to master his music!
Monday, May 25, 2009
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Silage
They are starting to bring in the first cutting of grass on the ranch as silage. It is a great week to do so, the weatherman says great weather for almost a week, and that is not common for this time of year. It no longer matters in my life but it sure brings back a pile of memories.
Silage and haying seasons were some of my favorite growing up. Those two times I was part of the team, not at home doing girl things i.e. cooking and the sort. It was afternoon and evening work thanks to the dew that always blankets the Island. In the morning they would either cut more grass or, during haying, use the tedder to fluff up the hay to encourage more drying. Shortly after lunch it would begin. One man on the tractor picking up the grass, two men in trucks transporting same to the pit (or barn if that were the case) and my father on the tractor in the pit packing and putting loads where they were needed. I was never allowed to participate in silage, it came about after I had graduated, but it still affected us in that Larry did a lot and Lawrence was always available to help, but never asked. He rode miles and miles each season in the hopes of being asked. It was a heartbreak for both of us.
But the part I wanted to focus upon was later in the day. Meals were catch as catch can when the work dominated during those times. So we would all eat together, my job was to make sure it was ready when needed and easy to eat and run. We usually ate outside under the trees between my parents and grandparents and had a barbecue. I would fix salads and desserts, then grill whatever was needed to be hot when they arrived. Heading toward the barn someone would say this is the last run before dinner and I would hop to it and be sure all was ready. Everyone ate together and it was always a party, it was always fun. The crew would head back to the work and I would start cleaning up and getting ready for phase two....watermelon under those same trees when the work was done for the day.
I never really gave my mother credit for being much help with those days, but in retrospect, she was very much involved. It was her ideas that told me what to make and what to do until I got things more under control. She was the one that would make the schedule for me to follow so that everything was ready at the same time, a skill that is extremely helpful to me to this day. Some of my ideas were great but not practical, and she would cross out those ideas and substitute more practical things. Lasagna was great, not so much spaghetti, that kind of thing. One held it's heat really well, the other was a problem. I didn't appreciate how much thinking went into those meals when I was doing them, but now that I am responsible I understand that she really did an amazing job of leading me through those lessons.
So the grass in now down and being picked up, and I sit in my kitchen and watch with a normal day in front of me and a little piece of me feeling very sad to be excluded from something that was so important to me as a child. No big meals today....but I will invite Joyce over for dinner again tonight so there will be more than two of us. A small blessing and a good blessing.
Silage and haying seasons were some of my favorite growing up. Those two times I was part of the team, not at home doing girl things i.e. cooking and the sort. It was afternoon and evening work thanks to the dew that always blankets the Island. In the morning they would either cut more grass or, during haying, use the tedder to fluff up the hay to encourage more drying. Shortly after lunch it would begin. One man on the tractor picking up the grass, two men in trucks transporting same to the pit (or barn if that were the case) and my father on the tractor in the pit packing and putting loads where they were needed. I was never allowed to participate in silage, it came about after I had graduated, but it still affected us in that Larry did a lot and Lawrence was always available to help, but never asked. He rode miles and miles each season in the hopes of being asked. It was a heartbreak for both of us.
But the part I wanted to focus upon was later in the day. Meals were catch as catch can when the work dominated during those times. So we would all eat together, my job was to make sure it was ready when needed and easy to eat and run. We usually ate outside under the trees between my parents and grandparents and had a barbecue. I would fix salads and desserts, then grill whatever was needed to be hot when they arrived. Heading toward the barn someone would say this is the last run before dinner and I would hop to it and be sure all was ready. Everyone ate together and it was always a party, it was always fun. The crew would head back to the work and I would start cleaning up and getting ready for phase two....watermelon under those same trees when the work was done for the day.
I never really gave my mother credit for being much help with those days, but in retrospect, she was very much involved. It was her ideas that told me what to make and what to do until I got things more under control. She was the one that would make the schedule for me to follow so that everything was ready at the same time, a skill that is extremely helpful to me to this day. Some of my ideas were great but not practical, and she would cross out those ideas and substitute more practical things. Lasagna was great, not so much spaghetti, that kind of thing. One held it's heat really well, the other was a problem. I didn't appreciate how much thinking went into those meals when I was doing them, but now that I am responsible I understand that she really did an amazing job of leading me through those lessons.
So the grass in now down and being picked up, and I sit in my kitchen and watch with a normal day in front of me and a little piece of me feeling very sad to be excluded from something that was so important to me as a child. No big meals today....but I will invite Joyce over for dinner again tonight so there will be more than two of us. A small blessing and a good blessing.
Friday, May 8, 2009
Beethoven
I love the music of Beethoven. It is so moody. It has such power, power in strength of volume and in the power of silence....both of which he uses really well. However, I love later Beethoven and not the early stuff. The early stuff is too Classical for me, too many notes just buzzing up and down with virtuosity being more of a focus than emotional fulfillment. That said, I am supposed to have the Spring Sonata for Violin under my hands in a couple of weeks. It is a beautiful piece of music to listen to but I have never seen myself playing same. It is classical and just buzzes with notes rushing from point to point only to rush back again in a whirlwind of accidentals and other pitfalls.
Can I play it? Yes I can, and rather well actually. However, the rub comes when we start to discuss the tempo. I do a pretty amazing job of it at 100, but it is scheduled to be performed at 116 minimum, with 132 being more correct. Not with these hands! I worked it hard a few weeks ago and had it near 116 without too many major mistakes but after a few days my right hand hurt so much I put it away and have just dusted it off again. 1 - 4 crosses are not my thing these days....pulls something that does not like to be pulled. I do better with the 1 -3 cross but even that sets my thumb into fits if I do it too many times in one session. And the sad thing is Gloria is the soloist and she plays it brilliantly! I am going to keep working but I suspect I will be doing the fake-job before I get done. I am good at what I do and I know what to drop and what must play, and I will do some serious dropping of notes to make it all happen. And that bothers me, I really don't like to do that but I am not too sure if my hands will hold up without the dropped notes.
That said, am I going to go get my Left hand done any time soon? No, I don't think that is on the schedule in the foreseeable future. The hand works even though the thumb is rather a useless hammer part of the time....but it works! I get more frustrated with my right hand when it comes to pain and runs. The left hand falls down when it comes to anything requiring strength, heaven forbid you have move rapidly through octaves! I can't depend on the hand to do what I ask of it, hence I avoid that kind of music too. One of these days....
And until then, I pick and choose my music wisely and play for myself more than for others. Works for me!
Can I play it? Yes I can, and rather well actually. However, the rub comes when we start to discuss the tempo. I do a pretty amazing job of it at 100, but it is scheduled to be performed at 116 minimum, with 132 being more correct. Not with these hands! I worked it hard a few weeks ago and had it near 116 without too many major mistakes but after a few days my right hand hurt so much I put it away and have just dusted it off again. 1 - 4 crosses are not my thing these days....pulls something that does not like to be pulled. I do better with the 1 -3 cross but even that sets my thumb into fits if I do it too many times in one session. And the sad thing is Gloria is the soloist and she plays it brilliantly! I am going to keep working but I suspect I will be doing the fake-job before I get done. I am good at what I do and I know what to drop and what must play, and I will do some serious dropping of notes to make it all happen. And that bothers me, I really don't like to do that but I am not too sure if my hands will hold up without the dropped notes.
That said, am I going to go get my Left hand done any time soon? No, I don't think that is on the schedule in the foreseeable future. The hand works even though the thumb is rather a useless hammer part of the time....but it works! I get more frustrated with my right hand when it comes to pain and runs. The left hand falls down when it comes to anything requiring strength, heaven forbid you have move rapidly through octaves! I can't depend on the hand to do what I ask of it, hence I avoid that kind of music too. One of these days....
And until then, I pick and choose my music wisely and play for myself more than for others. Works for me!
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