Not a Grey’s Anatomy myth!
Got to take a ferry to Seattle. Space Needle! No, I didn’t get to go in. But I enjoyed the view!
I’ll share the beach walk for tomorrow as well, there’s a secret to keep until then.
Category: Gratitude
Remember way back when I mentioned I might start a podcast? I can’t remember what I thought I’d call it, but a new title comes to mind as I started day # 3 of piano reawakening. “Warts and All”
We are so used to seeing the end result of endless practice. That makes sitting in front or with your art impossible. “I’ll never be that good. Why try?” So many negative things we tell ourselves, and because of that, we will never know what enjoyment we might bring ourselves or others while waiting for perfection. Follow your passions. God, muses, whatever you may call it, gets the credit for your curiosity drive. Do we dare let our defeatism lead the way? So I’m taking you on the ride. I took piano lessons since I was 5. I rebelled my way out around 16. After marriage at 21, I had to wait a while to get my old piano. My second son was teething when I got my piano back. I was rusty but could still enjoy the below pieces and much more, nearly totally memorized. I would play so hyperfocused that that piano had teething marks as the poor baby begged for my attention. So, I had to keep the practice to light bits.
When we moved to my first desert, Antelope Valley, the house was so small I had to keep the piano in a chicken coop. It was an old upright grand. It looked quite at home there. I would get up and go out in my heavy coat and gloves, scarf, and cap. As I did the scales and warm-ups, layers were released. I was starting to fall in love with my kidnapper. Stockholm Syndrome? There was a lot of angst from the psychological damage that practicing piano imposed on me.
A few decades later, after letting myself enjoy other music, singing, playing the recorder, and playing the ukulele, I felt like I wanted to try to bring it all back. Three days ago, I figured out a time of the day I could schedule my piano time. My first day was a lot of cleaning my baby. We get a lot of dust out here. And the darned mice. Lots of cleaning. But hey, that old piano in the chicken coop was pretty bad, too. And I love this piano. How I got it is another story. So cleaning it was, is now, a work of love. I did start playing that day for a few minutes. It went well. I kept it to 15 minutes. For some reason, yesterday’s practice made me want to cry. Today I decided to start recording myself and sharing the mess and progress with you. You are not required to listen to these as if they were elevator music. It is merely how it is when you try.
Enough of music. I’ll share the uke and recorder progress later.
Passion is imperfect.
I don’t know if I’m behind or how I got there but I’m seeing others beyond R and I’m barely think of Q.
For some reason I feel like streaming. No plan or plot is showing up. I feel like the queen of lazy. No rhyme or reason.
Since I’m tired I’m in a quandary both mind and body wants to quit. Be quiet. And seeing no rescue in sight, I’ll go with the Monday que: what’s being made?
Finishing arch heading towards the heel.
And
Another challenge:
Time for Duolingo then 🎵🎶
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: ends with “grate/great.” Use one or bonus points if you use them both. Enjoy!
Isn’t it weird that the word that starts that whole, deep emotion of grateful has to do with open screen to hold logs for the fireplace or something to grate cheese?
And yet the even larger word makes me think of Tony the Tiger
Spelled so differently, meaning thankful or largely wonderful. Words!
The stream goes sideways here.
When my oldest was a toddler, we had to walk up the block to pick up a few groceries. That five minute walk took nearly an hour. Toddlers can be infuriatingly curious.
Anyway, he saw these grates at the bottom of buildings. They looked like windows for small people. He would peek in. Then turn around and tell me about it. It took all my will-power to not roll on the sidewalk laughing. His forehead had the rusty crisscross of the grate from leaning his face on it.
I’m so grateful for this great memory.
Courtesy of my daughter. Thanks! She was going for a walk with Maggie, her dog. They saw a Family of Four Foxes.
Gratefully, I’m making strides on many levels. German is coming along. I’ve added more languages. I think 12 now. I doubt I will ever be conversant in most of them. But with two grandmothers who died from Alzheimer’s, I’m trying to keep my brain learning new things. LOTS OF NEW THINGS.
And I work both sides as much as I can. I have never been a left brained person so I do the Sudoku. I’ve nearly finished a whole book. I play math games.
Music uses both sides, both hands. And that’s moving along, too.
Gradually the diamond paintings are coming along. I think these are mostly right-brained. The beach scene and the lighthouse cause my brain to relax and stay organized.
This one is small. That is the only good thing. The glue is inconsistent, the symbols are hard to decipher. The drills are irregular. Still, both keep my hands busy.
One more thing I’m grateful for is
I share my little accomplishments because I have been discouraged in the past feeling less than or that I couldn’t learn or my blurry eyes or hurtie fingers messed with my feelings of success of any kind.
What I’m learning seems insignificant, even to me. But when I look at tiny new things I can do, the little things add up to something huge. I’m so grateful for these lessons and processes.
I can now spend 40 minutes on the stationary bike, 10-20 reps door push-ups, floor/ceiling touches.
My fingers stretch more for the tenor recorder, almost full range now.
I dreamed of playing When the Saints Go Marching In as the chord changes are becoming smoother. And it doesn’t hurt anymore. Can you believe it?
People, including me, believe a person can’t learn and grow in their 70s and older but I’m learning to see it differently. I don’t think I ever had the freedom to learn this way. To play, enjoy all the little things.
Much looks the same as last time. But you want to know what I’m learning as I go? All attempts get me closer to not. Not a baby beginner. Not a total loser. And if I take a moment and look back I find more proficiency. Faster, not so lost. Progress. And it’s not linear. There are times I pick up the recorder and find that somehow God put holes in my fingers. Air is escaping, somewhere.
Sometimes I get the chord progression of these simple songs. But if I don’t, I only have to remember a month ago. I could tune my uke. Now I can sing little songs and not look as I move from F to G7 to C to C7 and more, and I know without looking at my hand that I did it.
I can remember being 12 and learning to crochet and knit. How I got so frustrated when I had to rip it out.
Now I look forward to trying again. The thing that makes these hobbies frustrating is placing time constraints or perfection goals.
I may not be producing the way society deems worthy, but I’m 74 and enjoying my life. Learning is my fun. Seeing changes in abilities, even as I’m told growth can’t happen anymore, THAT is the fun.
I am keeping my goal on the stationary bike and other exercises. And I see tiny improvements.
My only disappointment in me is trying to find my way to the reading aloud/editing goal. But I’ll figure it out.
Here’s the pics of progress.
I feel good about developing discipline. Why is it only now growing?
After National Novel Writing Month in November, then the birthdays, Christmas and cold, and the occasional editing and keeping up the journal, somehow, January needed help. Linda G. Hill gives us Just Jot It January. The prompts help make sure we write something every day. I have done those for a couple of years now. I am grateful for the push to Just Jot.
But always, in the past, I found myself floundering in February. Hence, the fish:
He is a quick sketch, and the eraser was smudgy. He’s a little cross-eyed. That’s how I feel in this short month that lasts a couple years. Let’s think about this guy. He is the bottom feeder. He lays on or under the sand, both eyes looking up to catch whatever morsel floats down to him. I’m sure he is grateful for the tension that occurs above. That is how I feel about the tidbits of passion the muses drop to me.
It’s too cold for walks. But I am being steady on the stationary bike. Knitting is to keep the hands busy during TV or chats. When I am nearing the end of the day, Duo calls me, and then I do my blog. Whatever comes to mind. I’m trying to go earlier on these, so there is enough time and energy to build callouses on the uke and stretch the fingers for the soprano and alto recorders. Learning how the music theory I learned and applied to the piano and voice can apply to these other ventures.
To help me get back into playing scales, which will help with getting back into piano playing, I picked up one of these roll-up pianos to play with in my bedroom. It has an earphone plug-in, so no one has to put up with the noise but me. So these are my musical flounderings. Right now, it is just mechanical. But I am hoping that my tidbits of time and energy will spark a real musical enjoyment.
My diamond painting area is now open as the dragon is being shipped to his friend. I don’t know which one will be next. But I intend to flounder and fuss about in there and seek the enjoyment.
So that is what my Flounder Feb is all about. Finding enjoyment, if not passions, and hoping that all the flotsam and jetsam of tidbits build a healthier me. We’re not looking for perfection. That’s what happens up topside.
What is your Flounder doing this February? If you choose to play, use my pic and link back here.
Per Linda:
This post is part of Just Jot it January, and today’s prompt comes to us courtesy of my friend, Kim. Check out her blog here!
Family is the most important thing to me. If I had my choice I would live with everyone in a cave, my adult offspring most important, my husband is too. But masses of cousins all over the place and I miss all of them! We all used to live in one area. My grandparents were two doors from each other so we got to see all the relatives on Sundays.
What I only recently figured out was my cousins’ other grandparents were not where mine were.
I thought everyone had it like me. And most of my relatives went to the same church. My dad’s dad helped built the church. His wife and he were known in the church as Mom and Pop. So I was related to everyone. All the kids had my grandma as their primary teacher. We all learned to read The 23rd Psalm and the Lord’s Prayer from her.
My grandparents and parents are no longer with us, but we cousins are still here.
My biggest problem is a phone phobia that keeps me from calling. I know I’ll answer in a minute if they call me but deciding I’m calling now seems impossible.
So among other things I’m working on family is my primary goal.
I love my family, even the non-blood related ones, chosen extended family.
Darswords 
You must be logged in to post a comment.