Remembering Pete Seeger

I don't normally do blog posts about people that aren't family members, but when Pete Seeger passed away last week, I felt he deserved a post.
Just a couple days before he passed, I had watched a PBS special called 1964 which looked back and remembered that year and all the changes going on in the country.  It included some footage and quotes by Pete Seeger which I found profound.  The one that stands out pertains to Bob Dylan "plugging in" and using an electric guitar at the Newport Festival.  One wouldn't think this would be significant, but Pete Seeger was quite upset about it because it changed the atmosphere from one of the performer being one with the audience to it now being one of detachment.  Now it was us and them....the performer only being watched by the audience.  One thing Pete knew very well is the power of engaging people in all kinds of struggle.  Once you cut off that connection, you lose the power of uniting people in a common cause.
He was a true folk singer always true to his ideals.  He always stuck with acoustic guitar and banjo; always reached out to school children and kept them in touch with the old folk songs.  He was blacklisted in the 50s and 60s due to his political beliefs and was not allowed to perform on television.  He was finally able to rejoin his band, The Weavers, but when they decided to do a cigarette commercial, he was upset and quit the band.  He stated they did not need money that badly. 
He served in WWII but protested the Vietnam and Iraq wars.  He started a campaign to clean up the Hudson River and even though people said it couldn't be done, he got it done.  He built his own modest home and went without electricity and running water for many years.  He was married only once and died about six months after his wife at the age of 94.
Once in awhile a person comes into this world and really makes a huge difference, and he was one of those.  He wrote If I Had a Hammer and Turn, Turn, Turn....two very poignant songs.  He was humility and love personified.
So here is to you, Pete Seeger.  Thank you and you will be missed.

Thought:  A Man Wrapped up in Himself makes a very Small bundle.  Benjamin Franklin

Swedish heritage

My daughter and I, along with Aria, visited the Swedish Institute during the Christmas season.  I had been there once when I was quite young so my memory of it was quite vague.  It was exciting to see it through the eyes of an older me.  We didn't do a whole lot of Swedish traditions growing up, but I always have been interested in learning more.  I definitely feel I have a Scandinavian personality....melancholy and restrained as well as a love for simplicity and sparse surroundings.

Here a couple photos of a Swedish table and Norwegian table set for a Christmas feast:

                                                                            
                                                                    Swedish

                                          Norwegian

I did comment that I don't think my family ever had a holiday table that looked any thing like these.

Here is Aria looking like a reluctant Santa Lucia...

When done touring, we stopped at the café and enjoyed some pretty fancy Scandinavian treats

I hope to someday take Melody for a tour as she seems a bit interested in her Swedish side.  She had a paper taped to her bedroom door that stated she was part "Sweetish" which I found quite cute.  She also proclaims that she is part Mexican and part Swedish. 
Thank you, Olivia, for the fun day.

Thought:  We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies. ~Shirley Abbott

Making Christmas memories

One thing my children remember is making Christmas cookies with my mom.  Even though she knew it would be easier to make them by herself, she always waited until we found a day that worked for all of us to come and help.   This year Melody came to my house, and we made cut out sugar cookies.  I did find that it took us several hours; we played cards while they were baking.  The time was worth it in order to make these memories.

 

Melody's finished product

 

Hard at work

 

She also brought her Elf on the Shelf which was a new experience for us.  The elf did manage to go to the North Pole each night and end up in a

new place each morning

 

 

 

We had spaghetti one night, and Melody spent quite a bit of time teaching me the proper way to twirl your spaghetti on the fork.  She had quite a method.

 

 

 



I love it when Melody comes to visit, and as she rapidly grows older, I am mindful of the fact that some day she will be too big, too cool or too busy to come visit Grandma.  So I want to take advantage of these precious times when I can.

Thought:  Time is but the stream I go a-fishin in.  Henry David Thoreau

Making Memories with Grandchildren

One of the main focuses in my life these days is my grandchildren.  I am so happy that they all know me, and I know them.  They get excited to see me and seem to trust me completely.  That was my goal, and it seems to have been reached.
Following are snapshots of their lives that I am blessed to witness:

 

Aubree dance recital and Ethan loving his blankies

 

Ethan and Aubree enjoying fire on cold winter day

 

Ethan learning to color

 

Melody making snow angel

 

 

Melody sledding with Brian

 

 

Melody gets Baba to go bowling

 

Notice the scores; this is why I don't bowl often

Taking Melody to Irvine Park in Chippewa Falls to see Christmas lights

 

Aria loves her bathtime

 

being funny with the beer box

 

                                                          Aria playing in the sun

 

Aria and Baba

 

Serious Aria

 

 

 

Aubree going to the dentist

 

 

Aubree with new horse puppet

 

 

Aubree and Ethan playing with shaving cream when Tahnee home for a snow day

 

 

So despite feeling a bit down these past couple months, I have only to look at these photos and realize that just like George Bailey, I really do have a wonderful life!

Brian's Turn

Last year I had my first colonoscopy; some thing I had dreaded for quite some time.  However, I made it through the prep and procedure.  It was discovered I had a couple polyps which means I need to repeat it in five years.  Darn!
This year it was Brian's turn, and I was pretty sure the prep was going to be incredibly difficult for him.  He has an aversion to bathrooms and bodily functions, and believe me, colonoscopy prep means a lot of time in the bathroom!
Well, the day came, and I prepared his solution. 

 

He was aghast when I informed him he had to drink the whole thing.  He actually talked on the phone most of the evening while he was "taking care of business", and I had to keep reminding him it was time for the next drink.  The last round wouldn't even be drunk before it was time for the next.  Overall, he did a great job.  Early in the morning we headed for the hospital.  He asked the doctor to go lightly on the meds so he could stay true to his AA program.  The doctor did so, and Brian was very grateful for that.  He actually wasn't as sleepy when we got home as I had been due to the lower dose of meds.
His friend had told him to bring an apple to eat after he got to recovery which he did, and it tasted great!  What I love most about this photo is that he looks vulnerable and so grateful to be done and also to have had such a wonderful staff.

Of course, he had no polyps and gets a ten year reprieve.  He doesn't eat well at all, and I am very mindful of health and diet.  So for him to have a clean result just proves that life just isn't fair.

Thought:  When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown up, we would no longer be vulnerable.  But to grow up is to accept vulnerability...to be alive is to be vulnerable.   Madeleine L' Engle

I Had a Dream

Last summer while putting time and energy into taming Henry, I did dream and have a vision of him sitting on my lap during the cold winter.  Well, it might have been a small dream in the whole scheme of things, but it was a dream.  And it came true!
Henry finally came into the house in October and snuggles with me while watching television and in bed.  He is my constant companion; he follows me around like a dog.  He holds a special place in my heart because of the time I invested in becoming his friend and gaining trust.

 

Back in The Saddle

It has been quite awhile since my last post.  Not totally sure why I have been neglecting this part of my life, but I do know it has been a brutal winter.  We have had below zero temps for weeks and a ton of snow.  The snow would be awesome if it were warm enough to enjoy the outdoors.
Normally New Years Day is one of my favorite holidays because it feels like a clean slate, a fresh start, etc.   This year it didn't hold that feeling for me, and I have been a bit off my game since.  Along with the weather, I have had a couple viruses that have gotten me down plus my mood just doesn't seem as upbeat as usual.  Some days I have a hard time getting up from my nap and at times go three days without showering which is not normal for me.  It's not a depression that knocks you down flat; just an undercurrent of melancholy.
I find myself thinking often of my parents and my sister; the hole that remains in my soul due to those losses.  At times I find myself transported to an earlier time and feel my parents surrounding me.  The last time I drove past my home place, I had to keep myself from turning into the driveway because I was sure my dad was sitting in his easy chair drinking brandy and watching the evening news.  Perhaps as one loses more of the people that made them who they are and draw ever closer to our own end, we go back to those times.
Obviously, those earlier days weren't all rosy but nevertheless, they felt secure.  Those people cared for and nurtured me and were part of my lives longer than any one else.  So there is a deep sense of loss.
Spring will come again and so my soul will rise from the ashes once again.

Thought:  In the Midst of Winter, I found there was within myself, an invincible summer.   Albert Camus