Busy Saturday

Finally, in March, we've had the first real snowstorm of the 2011-12 winter season. This is the view from my office window. A storm like this in January or February would send me right into a depression, but this is March, the month of possibilities.

Today, Chris, Tisha and Evan came over to take me out to lunch and to bring me a notebook computer to replace the last one that crashed two weeks ago.

Evan was thinking about his latest computer game, but came alive later when we pulled out my electronic keyboard.  Evan, at six years old, has exceptionally long fingers and a sweet little voice that is right on pitch.  I wanted to see what he would do with the keys.

Most children when given a keyboard pound on it, making a racket, but my grandson went right to work figuring out songs.  Within minutes he knew about octaves.  We played with all the sound variations we could make, things like flute, cathedral organ, and so on.  He was looking for the sound of the bar in the fourth in the Star Wars series (the first film) and with the help of his Daddy found it.  I was thrilled to see him at the keyboard and hope that he does something with his talent.

Next he and I played a geography game on his mother's I-Phone.  Between us we managed to figure out the states,their capitals, and information about them.

It all ended far too soon.

Tonight, Gary and I are about to leave to listen to my favorite folksinger, Bill Staines, at the Mosquito Hill Nature Center in New London.  Seeing Bill is my yearly birthday present.

Still to come in the next week is a  gathering with friends to talk about books and politics,a visit from my friend from Chicago, the weekly critique group, and a visit with Evan's first grade class. I think I take my autoharp and sing some songs with them.

By then the forecast is for 50 degree days, St. Patrick's Day on the 17th, and in only 2-1/2 weeks, the spring equinox.

So let the snow come, March is a busy, happy month.

******
"Cigarette Man Saves the Day", Wade Peterson's latest short story, is now at http://blackcoffeefiction.blogspot.com   our shared Black Coffee Fiction blog.

Planning or Lack Thereof

When I plan a tour, I make sure I have an itinerary laid out with all my performances:  name of the venue, contact person, address, phone number, e-mail address along with date and time.  Then I set the itinerary aside until about a month before I leave.  At that point, I collect maps and figure out some places to stay.

But then I know that all bets are off.  Oh, I'll make my performances, but who knows what roads I'll go down or where I'll pitch my tent.  This past summer, on my six week Western tour, I only stayed two times at campgrounds I had set out on paper.  Floods wiped out campgrounds, roads were closed, rain storms or extreme heat sent me to motels.  The unexpected is expected when I travel.

Now I will be going on tour around Lake Superior through Minnesota, Ontario, and Upper Michigan in July.  I am working on finding work at libraries and nursing homes. Where I go depends on the work I find.

Gary is going with me and that makes for a different trip. Gary likes to plan everything to the nth degree.  With the trip four and a half months off, he is already printing out maps, checking out campgrounds, figuring out distances, worrying about the price of gas.  Going up the stairs, I can see the trip taking shape with printouts he's hanging on the walls.

He is taking over the logistics. He is finding provincial and state parks.  He is looking for lighthouses to visit.  He already has the mileage figured out.  He will pack a big walk in tent and more equipment than I care to think about.  While I am performing, he'll be setting up camp or taking down.

When I travel, I make oatmeal for breakfast and soup for supper and eat out at noon.  It's that simple.  Gary will plan out much more elaborate meals.

The Circle Tour will be an entirely different trip with fewer surprises, but I'm sure we'll have fun anyhow.

I wonder if he will remember to pack his passport.  I'd better remind him.  

A Whole New Month

As much as I hate February, I love March more. It is the month of promise.  

March is a month of celebration, beginning with Bill Staines on Saturday.  We'll have an evening gathering with friends on Sunday.  Friends come from out of town for visits. We'll go out for Lenten fish fries. With the longer days and warmer weather, neighbors come out and reconnect after months of being shut in. Our eyes blinking  from the sun, we catch up on neighborhood gossip and talk about summer plans. 

We'll attend Canoecopia in a week and will focus on good places to wet the canoes. By e-mail, we consult with camping buddies to figure out the campgrounds where we'll meet over the summer. 

By the third week of March, snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils will start blooming in my gardens.  There should pasque flowers soon after.  By the last week of March, we start seeds in planters, both flowers and vegetables.  

We know we'll be taking hikes this month.  We'll put on our rubber boots and wade out to the swamps looking for early wildflowers.  In some years, March is warm enough to throw the canoe in the Wolf River and cruise through the Navarino Nature Center birding.  We can expect tundra swans, sandhill cranes, hooded and common mergansers, Canada geese, buffleheads, coots, and pie bill grebes.  

By the 31st, flannel sheets will be packed away.  We won't see them again until November.   

This morning, March started with a bang with an e-mail from an Ontario public library inviting me to perform there in mid-July.  So March will be the month I plan yet another storytelling trip, this time a Circle Tour around Lake Superior.

There will still be snow and gray skies in March, but with so much to look forward to, I am cutting back on St. John's wort as Seasonal Affective Disorder fades away.  

Present Tense

Yesterday was walking in warmer weather, listening to music on my MP3 player, feeling fine.Today was another matter.

Last night, we were hit with a snowstorm.  Only an inch or two of snow, but that was followed by an ice storm that made any walking impossible and driving not so good either. Gary and I were stuck inside.

We try to make the best of things.  Gary worked on projects.  I baked bread.

I've been reading a book downloaded onto my Nook from the library system: Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern. The book was entirely written in the present tense, which is unusual, but it only marginally held my interest so it was slow going.

Usually, I finish the library downloads before the due date and delete them, but I noticed yesterday that Night Circus was going to be due today.  When I woke up in the middle of the night, as I often do, I read for an hour.  I still had over a hundred pages to go this morning but the computer system informed me I still had six hours before the book would be removed from my system.  I decided to finish it and did, but I still  kept an eye on the Adobe Digital screen to watch the hours and then the minutes count down.  It was like watching the odometer on a car turning to 100,000 miles.  I wanted to see exactly what happened.

Sure enough, at 1:00 p.m. the word "expired" showed up.  The Nook, with its wireless system, also told me the book was no longer available for reading. Technology is fascinating.

I switched to the next library e-book, which was about dogs.  I figured it would be something light and possibly uplifting to keep my spirits up.  It was The Lost Dogs. But when I opened the book, I found the subtitle, "Michael Vick's Dogs."  Vick was the professional football player whose off season hobby was pit bull fights, nasty and illegal.   So much for that book.  Deleted.

I took a nap and then it was time for our Wednesday night session in the gym.  We drove over and found out that both the aquatic and fitness centers were closed because of the snow.

So we came back to an evening of really bad TV. I'm now working on a P.D. Wodehouse collection of Jeeve's stories.

So here I am after a day that had only one satisfactory thing going for it:  it's the end of February.  March starts tomorrow with many adventures and warmer weather on the way.

Walking and Music

With a snowstorm forecast for tonight and tomorrow, I decided I had better spend the day using the fine weather today to get some exercise. Tomorrow, snowed in, I can spend the day working on the novel.

In all, I walked five miles from the library on the north side to highway 54 in the south, the Methodist church to the east and over to Rock Ledge Park on the west. The day was gray but not too cold. To keep my spirits up, I listened to music on the MP3 player that Gary gave me a couple of years ago.  He put some of my favorite songs on it. Songs with a strong beat are good to walk to.  Humorous and inspirational songs are good to combat SAD.  I mostly skipped any sad songs.

Here's part of my play list:

In Spite of Ourselves, John Prine and Iris DeMent, which decribes Gary and me.
        "In Spite of ourselves, we're sitting on a rainbow,
        against all odds, honey, we're the big door prize."

Roll Me Away, Bob  Segar and the Silver Bullets, makes me want to head out on another road trip, though not on a motorcycle.

Across the Great Divide  by Kate Wolf, sung by Nanci Griffith, is a little sad, but I love it anyhow.
        "It's gone away, yesterday, and I find myself on the mountainside
        Where the rivers change direction, across the Great Divide".
It makes me think of a summer day last summer sitting beside the road looking down the mountain toward my next destination.

Why Walk When You Can Fly , by Mary Chapin Carpenter, is simply my philosophy.
          "Why take when you could be giving, why watch as the world goes by
          It's a hard enough life to be living, why walk when you can fly."

Another by Mary Chapin Carpenter, is Between Here and Gone.  What should we do from now to the end of our lives?

A good environmental song is Gentle Arms of Eden, Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer
          "This is my home, this is my only home
          This is the only sacred ground that I have ever known
          And should I stray in the dark night alone
          Rock me goddess in the gentle arms of Eden"

And finally, a song that makes me want to survive anything and keep on fighting, The Mary Ellen Carter, by Stan Rodgers, about a sunken ship, it makes me think of the bankers and politicians of the day.
          "And you, to whom adversity has dealt the final blow
          With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go
          Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain
          And like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again.
          Rise again, rise again - though your heart it be broken
          And life about to end
          No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend.
          Like the Mary Ellen Carter, rise again."

Only one more day in February.  I think I will survive.

The LED Light

Gary found a clever little LED light that clips to my Nook.  At first I could see no use for it, since I read the e-book during the day or at night by the light from the lamp on the bed stand.

Gary thought it would be good for camping.  He said if one of us woke up during the night and couldn't get back to sleep, we wouldn't wake other person in the camper.  With this little lamp, we could read our Nooks at all hours.

I found another benefit last night.  Rascal Cat sleeps at the foot of my bed.  If I should wake up, he immediately wants to play...or nudge me into feeding him.  He comes right up to my face and stares at me.  Sometimes he gets so close his whiskers stick in my nostrils.

Last night, I took the Nook under my quilt to read, covering my head as well.  With the light turned on, I cheerfully read for over an hour.  Rascal could not get at me and soon settled down.

It reminded me of my childhood when I took a flashlight under the covers to read late at night so my mother would not discover me and make me go to bed before I had finished some wonderful book.

I guess the light has its uses.  I will keep it.

Dealing with SAD

I don't know if I mention often enough that I love Gary, but I should.

After my SAD episode on Thursday, I took a nap.  When I came downstairs, Gary had cleaned everywhere then lit a dozen candles and had soft music playing.

He knows that one of my favorite dealing with winter songs is Buffy Sainte-Marie's "Still This Love Goes On". She sings of winter and dreaming of pow-wows.

"In every dream I can smell the Sweetgrass burning
And in my heart I can hear the drum
and hear the singers soaring
and see the jingle dancers
and Still this love goes on and on
Still this love goes on."

It takes me back to the Oneida pow-pow on the 4th of July weekend, the drummers, singers, and dancers, eating fry bread and of course, the July heat.  It warms me up just thinking about it.  

So this morning, Gary burned some of the braided sweet grass I bought last year for a Christmas present. 

Though he can't totally pull me out of a winter depression, it is lovely to know he is trying. 

The choir sang early in the service today so I took off to my own spiritual base, Nature.  I drove to the Bubolz Nature Center to hike a little.  It was muddy, so I couldn't get too far, but at the pond, a white throated sparrow was singing the sweetest song.  I whistled back at him for a while and felt spring surging in my soul, if only for a while.  Bless him. Bless Gary.