Loved the iPod, hated the chemicals.
But on days like this I do a lot of thinking. The thoughts come and go easily, some of them lingering for a while and others fleeting before I can even grasp on to them.
Here are some of the thoughts that lingered long enough to actually ponder:
- I've been acutely aware that my blog is probably read by prospective and past employers, prospective and past co-workers, long-lost friends, immediate and extended family, and total strangers. And that awareness has driven the contents of my posts (and kept me from posting some content) far too much. I never began this blog for anyone but myself and I shouldn't start tiptoeing now. I started a post yesterday about how we've been relaxing in our parenting, allowing Aleks and Kat to stay out much later, and sometimes even all night (as long as we know where they are and who they're with), and how we've come to really trust their good judgment and maturity... but then I decided not to post it since it alluded to "drinking responsibly" and I wondered how that might come across to, say, a prospective employer. But you know, I should have posted it and not worried what anyone thinks. So no more tiptoeing. I yam who I yam and I write what I write. Deal.
- Hearing Bach's Tocata and Fugue in D on my iPod today (mid-floor-mopping) elicited the same emotions I had when I unexpectedly heard it played live in the church in Heidelberg last month. Instant lump in my throat followed by tears streaming down my face. Why does some music (most of it, but not all of it, classical) have such an intensely powerful effect on me? (Geoffry? Why?!) "To the core" is always what comes to mind when I have this reaction. And actually, as the music played today I was reminded of something that happened on our second evening in Heidelberg, as the organ player treated us to yet another "concert." (God, it was great!) Elisabeth and I were outside the church when a cat ran by us, headed very deliberately toward the church. Elisabeth tried to pick up the cat, "needing" to cuddle it, but he wanted nothing to do with us. He jumped out of her arms and ran to the huge, heavy church door. There he was greeted by a woman who seemed to be expecting him! She opened the door for him (and us), and we watched as the cat made his way, amid the very loud and powerful organ music, to the organ player's bench. He settled under the bench, sat perfectly still, and enjoyed the concert with the rest of us!
- Maybe I should go back to school and get a teaching credential (I already have a masters in education; how long could it take?) and teach 3rd grade. So what if I'd cut my salary in half or more?! (Yes, it's taken a while to get to this approach, but here I am finally.) I know I'd love it and maybe it's true what they say about doing what you love and the money following.
- Can I make money by writing? Given the choice, it's how I prefer to spend my time. But only when I write what I want to write, not when I'm told what to write. I'm stubborn that way.
- I love it when my daughters French braid my hair. I also used to love it when my students and "camp kids" used to fuss with my hair. They used to line up for a turn! Ah, bliss!
- I hate my new, expensive front-loader washing machine and I want to return it. Tomorrow I'll attempt to exchange it for a normal ol' washer AND dryer.
- Books I'm reading: Blink! (about the science of intuition... I just knew it!), Evening (because I thought the movie had potential), Good Grief, A Map of the World (not started yet).
- I adore our new German bedding (thanks again, Christiane and family!), but it's made me realized how much I used to shop for bedding, buying a set of sheets here, an "alternate" (pffft!) duvet cover there. I can't buy covers or sheets for our new bedding here (I stocked up in Germany, fortunately, but didn't buy the European square pillows, dang it, and they're crazy expensive here!), so it's an odd feeling indeed to walk around Bed, Bath & Beyond and Linens & Things, knowing that I can't and won't succumb to my shopping weakness!
- My Google Reader (and blog comments, come to think of it) seems to be much quieter these days. Has the blogosphere gone dormant or something?!
12 hours of cleaning...oh yikes, I am glad it wasn't me....but I am off now sanding the remainder of the bathroom floor and varnishing it without i-Pod.
ReplyDeleteI am with you about the silence in teh blogosphere!!! Formerly daily bloggers seem to be blogging weekly now. Or I am simply clicking waaay to often on my bloglines refresh button. Fortunately you still keep up a high rate :)
I have the same kind of emotional reaction to Bruch's Violin Concerto. Instant tears! It was always my Mother's favorite and we played it at her memorial service, but it could bring me to tears even before then.
ReplyDeleteAs for the blogging, I haven't posted in a while either. I'm not sure I will ever get back to it. I have been somewhat depressed lately and can't think of anything to write about.
I just discovered you...delightful! And you're right - isn't the bread in Germany just great...
ReplyDeleteI just suggested the following to my sister who found herself being careful about what she wrote on her blog because family and friends read it. Could you also have a blog that noone who knows you in the real world knows about, where you can say absolutely what you darned please? You keep this one with photos etc and another one for when you want to vent about anything and everything without worrying about what your audience thinks...
ReplyDeleteI'm also getting less hits and comments, so I think people are just busier nowadays.
ReplyDeleteYou really should post the thing about parenting. You never know who you might help.
Music has the ability to touch certain emotional places that nothing else can... I have that reaction to certain places in the Bach St. matthew Passion (note to self: copy old video of boys singing in the childrens choir in a performance of that piece), and to passages in Puccini's Soer Angelika... has anyone ever been able to explain this phenomenon? I don't know.
ReplyDeleteThere are pieces we play (I am thinking of some movements in Mahler) where I can look out at the audience and see many people struggling against wet eyes (oddly enough, it is often men more than women!)