A Little Housekeeping

Some of you are wondering why you haven't made my list of "People I Have Knewn." There's a simple answer. One, I'm adding names in bunches according to segments of my life. So far, I'm barely through high school. Some people have been added because they complained, even though it wasn't their turn to be added. So if I met you at UMO or USM or in New Jersey or New Mexico or New Hampshire or Alaska and/or just about anytime after I graduated from high school, it's not that I've forgotten you. You'll get on the list one of these days.

You can actually be of help. When you prod me to put you on the list, remind me of other people you think we both knew. (OK, maybe it IS that I've forgotten some people.) I won't add any names that I don't actually remember.

P.S. Kayti did not write this.

The Hills Are Alive

These are exciting times here on the Stick Farm. For starters, Rex was out of the house for two days in a row, and I was totally ALONE!

I do love being alone. I think it stems from growing up with sisters who just made fun of me all the time, leaving me unwilling to do much of anything in their presence. For example, at a Bible camp we went to for a week one summer, my sister Janet and I were put in the same dorm room. The room was actually an attic, and a damned hot and stuffy one at that, and about 10 girls were housed there. I think I was 10. I was very lonely. I had no idea how to make friends. In contrast, Janet made friends easily and hung around with a large group. One day I was lying on my bed between classes, having a conversation with my stuffed bear. Janet came in with some other kids from some activity outside. She strode over to me and ripped my bear out of my hands, and told me to stop playing with a stuffed animal. It was embarrassing her.

At home in Falmouth, it was only when I would strike out on a walk "down back" with my nonjudgmental dog that I felt free to be. Maybe that's why the word and concept of freedom resonate so deeply with me. Freedom! Ain't that a gorgeous word?

Liking to have Rex out of the house has nothing to do with Rex, really. He tolerates whatever I do here, including, notably, my wretched attempts to rebuild my trombone embouchure. Still, I'd rather not have him in listening distance. It makes a difference in how I practice.

Also exciting is the response I've had to my search for music students. It's exhilarating (is that spelled right? I don't think so ...) yet scary to be opening myself up to sharing music. I'm not saying I have a lot of students -- just that I'm talking to people about music and seeing some enthusiasm and also seeing more possibilities. I'm discovering, too, that I hate the money aspect of teaching lessons. I just want people to come play with me. What I'd really like to do is charge people on the basis of how much they practice -- the more they practice, the less I charge, because the quicker they learn, the more fun they'll be to play with! Maybe Rex can come up with a practice-o-meter that we could imbed in students' instruments.

Last but not least, I have finally successfully papier-mache'd something. It's Kayti's mask for her parrot costume for Halloween (her best friend is going to be a pirate). I'm quite delighted with the result.

Now it's on to my own costume -- appropriately, a treasure chest!

At last, a picture

At last, a picture on my blog. This is my daughter, Kayti, age 9, and her friend Finn, age 5, on that trampoline it took us six years to put up. Soon we'll have to take it down, because we live in the frozen North and outdoor equipment doesn't fare well in winter weather.
Well, it looks like this coming weekend will be the Time of the Great Rooster Slaughter. I'll kind of miss hearing 11 roosters crowing in chorus between 4 and 7 a.m. I did record them, and will try to upload it, but please, I just put up my first picture! Bear with me!
Why is it I think of a million things to say on my blog when I'm out walking, and then when I sit in front of the computer my head is completely devoid of anything resembling ideas? Must be all the Scrabble playing.

The Deb Zone: A Separate Reality

Rex, my husband, made up the title for this blog entry. He said he wanted to write something on the subject, but he'll never get around to it, so I borrowed it.

You may have heard my dulcet voice last Sunday on NPR's Weekend Edition. The show's producers called me after I posted on their Soapbox blog about what kind of life I'll be facing in a couple of weeks when my severance pay from the newspaper runs out. In short order, they had me a) scheduled for a phone interview with Sunday host Liane Hansen and b) losing sleep thanks to my fear of sounding like a nincompoop on national radio.

After the interview, which took place at MPBN's studios in Portland, I was so horrified at the things I'd said that I didn't sleep for ANOTHER two nights, thinking about the clever responses I failed to make. For example, Ms. Hansen asked me if I had ever thought that at age 55 I'd be in this position, i.e., jobless, reduced to living in the cellar to keep warm and serving meals concocted from a pet or two. My on-air answer meandered around how Rex and I are unconventional and I've done a lot of jobs and blah blah blah ... the point being, I'm no stranger to belt-tightening. Which is an okay answer, but what I should have said was: "No way! I never thought I'd be lucky enough to have a farm, a husband, a daughter, and lots of animals! I expected to be living on income from bottle returns and picking my lunch out of a dumpster!" Which some people may take as facetious but it is the absolute truth!

Before I go, a funny observation by Kayti:

She'd picked up my trombone and tried to blow a note. I showed her how, and said, "It's kind of hard." She said, "I can't understand why you'd work so hard to play something that doesn't sound that good anyway."

Maybe it's time to play her some J.J. Johnson.

My very best to all of you,

LOVE, Debbi