For a short time, this writing will continue at peggysart.wordpress.com should you decide to follow me on my journey to the Pacific northwest for some alone time, some creative freedom, and……. well you will just have to go there to find out.
Later……………
Here I sit, getting ready to venture out to the grocery store. That fish I took out of the freezer last night was gaggingly smelly so I stuck it back in the freezer after cooking, planning to put it in the garbage outside this morning. I did have the courgettes (zucchini in another language) lightly sauteed in butter with salt and pepper. A few pecans on the side along with a couple of stalks of celery pleased me no end. I can feel myself going back to the old vegetarian times when a piece of fish or something made with chicken stock or an egg was an unknown to me. I was extremely healthy during those times.
So today, I will go to the store before the crowds (best laid plans…) and be home before 7am.
Made a salad the other night with baby spring greens. It was so insubstantial, that it floated down my throat not even touching the sides. Had maybe an ounce of lettuces with a great salad dressing that said “must be refrigerated at all times.” Found it out near the fridge the next morning. Oh well. I’ll put that on my list for today. Or maybe just some olive oil, since I have a bottle of excellent balsamic vinegar in the fridge right now.
Ok, silly, stop talking about it and go to the store. Put a limit on your purchases ($$) and stick to the budget. There’s a budget? Always has been a mental budget. Go ahead, laugh. What is money but paper and mental budgets?
Bye. First time out since Friday. And it’s Monday!
Later…………
Ok folks. Time is drawing near. Had a surprise email saying I need to take a music stand with me today. Sheesh. Mine are all in storage. So, I call up Sam and wake him up so I can borrow his, which means about 25 minutes round trip over to his place.
Ah well, it’s now done. So I will be off in about half an hour to the Central Library downtown to play oboe in Peter and the Wolf. Called me at the last minute, so no rehearsals but a sound check at noon. Crikey…. why? Haven’t played the duck in several years. Should be fun.
Even found an A-440 online so that I can be sure I’m right with the program, unless they tune to A-444 now, or something! I’ll find out soon enough.
Here are some of the oboe bits…
yes, it is david bowie….
duck, duck, goose………..
later……
It’s back to work today, with several post mortems to follow from thankful, critical, suggestionful and other co-workers who were there.
I have to pay the caterer this morning, so will leave here around 6:30 or so. Thank goodness I only have to work three days, then four days off.
Today is a start on last year’s food elimination process. I don’t mean in the bathroom, either. On March 3 last year I eliminated three things from my food intake. Sugar, lactose, and wheat. It was a glorious time from the first day. No phlegm wads in the morning that nearly choke me to death, and several other sidelines — none of which I will mention here.
This was, as many know, as a result of knitting through a lecture by Dr. Andrew Weil. Will go to the library today and see what books are in. Perhaps one or two are on cd.
I stuck with it for something like 8 months, then boom. Totally screwed myself and started with the wheat first, on the way back to Sacramento from Stockton after meeting with a new man, and having lunch with one I had met previously. Let me put those aside for now. I am determined to go back and write about each one individually, collectively, and however I need to do it so that I can publish, self-publish or just let the public know what crappy people are out there. As a former friend once said…. well, dear, you are in that category, too, aren’t you. You’re right out there with the rest of them. My response…. I tell the truth.
Must go to work. Loving every minute I ‘m telling myself.
later………..
Ok, I’ve just had my pre-shower, pre-cooking, pre-breakfast snack. It is 7:10am, and my munchings included two freakisly sweet chocolate chip cookies accompanied by four glasses of water to rid my mouth of the taste, which is now becoming objectionable. I hear you… go brush your teeth, silly girl. On my way there in a few moments as part of my morning ablutions.
I will do some miserly wrapping of tiny gifts I have put together from items around the house, since I hadn’t anticipated participating in the gift exchange until two or three days ago, and am still quite sceptical about it.
After cooking matzo brei and sorting out tamales by stuffing (cheese and jalapeno, beef and chicken — oh and some with pineapple and raisin), I will fetch my son at his apartment and head on over to the parents’ home. We are due there at 10am.
I do believe that this most formal writing is influenced by writing and simultaneous watching of Mansfield Park. There is some lovely English horn playing, reminiscent of Syrinx for solo flute by Debussy. How odd.
I’m off to the shower. Nice clean towels from my wild laundry et al. day on Tuesday. I’ll check back in later with developments through the day. Looking forward to the evening which will find at me home with a nice cup of tea, relaxing in the big red chair in the front room. The other day I unearthed a few old small rugs, one of which I will put in front of the chair so that my feet will stay warm.
My feet and legs are getting used to the Birkenstocks. I had forgotten how good I could feel as a result of shoes I like.
Onward and upward, dears. Chocolate chip cookies are weighing heavily on my stomach/guts. Ick.
later…………..
Just checked the “how many people ogled my blog today” stats. Now don’t do this because I’m suggesting it, but periodically I check back one year to see where I was/am. I could have written last year’s entry today…. almost, except that I don’t remember who the heck the English musician to whom I refer actually was/is.
I think my mind is selectively blocking names/experiences. Ok, overuse of the slash mark is noted. I’m only here for a moment and to note that I’m watching a couple of tv series on dvd — a couple I have heard of but never seen prior to this week. Eli Stone and Six Feet Under. My usual rentals are BBC productions, so that I can watch the scenery, a tactic which for me precludes the actors, the acting, the plot. Take, for instance, Miss Potter (perhaps not BBC), a biographical tale of the well-known author and illustrator Beatrix Potter. When she and her parents traveled to the Lake District in England for their summer hols, I literally melted into the landscape. I was there.
Have a heap of kd lang…… thinking of wonderful voices. A treat for you.
There. What do you think of that? I’m not crying. She amazes me — all aspects of her voice. I even had the audacity to sing the next song at a recital a couple of years ago. My son accompanied me on guitar!
Dare you to sit still during this one.
and if you’ve think you’ve seen everything see how she appeared on the Arsenio Hall Show way back when. I was waiting for this performance. She outdid them all!
This is great!
later……………
Ok… so I was walking toward the sanctuary where the service/concert was going to be held, and found myself confronted by my friend Carl’s cousin Jason. He said, “Have you heard?” I just looked at him. ”Cousin had a small stroke yesterday while he was conducting a funeral service. He spent the night in hospital, and got out just a while ago so that he could come to the service tonight.” As I stood there shocked and filled with emotion, Jason continued to tell me bits and pieces.
Needless to say, Carl arrived a while later, took his place in front of the choir and said that he was going to conduct. Now, it was not until this moment that I put two and two together. This was a service with homage to Carl who has been cantor/chazzan at this Jewish temple for 30 years. His 60th birthday was just a couple of weeks ago.
He’s a lucky man. Small stroke in the presence of several Jewish doctors. The rabbi and her family took him home after the service tonight. He will stay there for a day or so. Tomorrow, I will meet with Jason to try and figure out what to do. I am considered the one who knows, so I will help where I can, and simply give my input where it might be of use.
The choir sang brilliantly; I was grand and in great form; there was not a dry seat — I mean eye in the house. Carl lives alone. There will be a gang of people waiting for us to make some decisions about when and how they can help.
Didn’t realize how much my oboe playing had been hampered by the wretched uterine fibroids all these years. I do have some serious twinges in the places where I assume the ovaries and their tubies were attached to the uterus. I’m not sure why the discomfort, but will email my doc in the morning. He will most likely respond on Monday.
So, gig went well. My mom, step-dad and brother were there. Carl did the service when my maternal grandmother died. Chanted in Hawaiian and brought memories to our hearts as he talked of how he knew her.
I, dear ones, am going to bed. I have only to meet Sam at 9:30am, then Jason after lunch, and who knows what or whom from there. All I know is that it is possible that my sleep will not be so interrupted as Carl was usurping energy from us all.
After tonight’s service/concert, I wended my way into the social hall and got him a cup of water, which he drank as soon as I handed it to him. Why, in all those people, was I the only one who even thought of doing that?
Doesn’t even bear thinking about.
I’m cold, and for want of another body near me will now go into my room and wrap up in my comforter and bedspread and maybe even watch television for a little while until I drop of into the land of Wynken, Blynken and Nod. Now I present the old rhyme for you to ponder as I wander to my bed.
Good night, dear loves.
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod (Dutch Lullaby)
by Eugene Field (1850-1895)
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe—
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”
The old moon asked the three.
“We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!”
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea—
“Now cast your nets wherever you wish—
Never afeard are we”;
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam—
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
‘T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought ‘t was a dream they ‘d dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea—
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one’s trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
That’s my pet name for the Good King….. take a listen to this little Stan Kenton version of same.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TqZXb8I9Zvk&feature=related
For jj and the crew…
later……….
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