Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

Sunday evening, I watched episode 3 of this season's GOT. I'd not watched any of GOT until November 2018, but after the first season, I was hooked. I watched each season until I reached the end in late December. That's a lot of GOT to take in over a short time. I loved every single second of it. One of my favorite parts out of all the episodes to then was the Battle of the Bastards, particularly the scene when Jon Snow's army charges forward on the horses, and the camera pans, going slowly from the horses' heads back and down to their legs. Just a beautiful image of the horses running. The artistry with which some scenes are made is truly amazing. I felt the same about several moments in Sunday's episodes. But it really wasn't any particular scene in this episode that touched me so much. Rather, it was the music. The music that started when Sansa and Tyrion were hiding from the undead running through the crypts. That music, aptly titled "The Night K...

I am so in love with Michael Kiwanuka. His music, for whatever reason, strikes a chord in me. I can listen to his songs over and over and over. Not many singer/songwriters do this to me. My love affair with Kiwanuka's music started a couple of weeks ago when I had a mix streaming on YouTube. His song "Cold Little Heart" came on while I was in the kitchen doing dishes. When his voice started, I had to stop and go watch the video and listen to the song. I must have been in a fragile place that day -- the tears started slipping down my cheeks as I listened. Maybe it was the lyrics. Maybe the style took me back to my childhood. Maybe the young man dancing in the video made me feel the despair that comes from trying but not making headway. Could have been all of this that struck me that day. Ever since, I've been listening to Kiwanuka and really enjoying his work. I didn't realize at the time that this song is from Big Little Lies , which I watched earlier this yea...

I put Neil Diamond on the turn-table this morning to keep me company as I laid out the electronics I'll be taking with me on the ride. With the first few notes of "Everybody's talkin,'" memories from years ago flooded through me. Instead of sorting through the charging cords and other assorted electronics, I sat in the middle of my bedroom to float on the memories. Summers spent riding ponies and horses through clover fields. Making construction paper ribbons and having our own horse shows with Mom as the judge. She never played favorites. Hot summer nights playing Kick the Can. On rare occasions, Mom would call for us from the back porch that it was time to come in for the day. Most often, she let us determine our own bedtime. Mom waking me up one August night to take me out to a blanket she had spread on the lawn. We laid there, watching meteors race across the sky. Mom loved listening to Neil Diamond. Whenever one of his songs came on the radio she woul...

The decision has been made. I will be returning to Blogger and A Clunk Upstairs. What I have at my website will migrate here, hopefully by the beginning of summer. I'm stoked! This is one decision I am completely happy with. I have so much good happening right now, and so much to look forward to through the rest of the year. One of the really wonderful things is listening to my son play the alto sax. Last evening, we sat in the audience as he played with three other students for chamber concert. Angel Baby has been working with the younger students all year, and their piece went well. As I watched, I realized how relaxed and comfortable my son has become playing. The confidence. The control. And afterwards, when I spoke to him as he was helping place chairs and music stands for the next group, he was all of a sudden a young man, no longer the boy I've always thought of him as being. I am deeply thankful for being along for the ride, watching him grow and mature.

The last week of March is upon us. Already. Whew. Someone slow this train down. Please. The days are just zipping by too quickly. On the other hand, being this far into the semester puts me closer to the end of it, which is a mere 6 weeks away. I feel like I'm saying, "Slow down! Yay, speed up! Slow down! Yay, speed up!" first looking to my right then looking to my left. I really need to just breathe. While I may seem conflicted over this whole not liking how quickly time is passing by/wanting time to pass by more quickly, if I had to honestly choose which side I actually fall on, I'd have to say wanting time to pass by more quickly. My mind is already way in out in front of me, in June, where I'm on my bike out in the countryside. Thinking back to last summer, I remember how I rode every now and then, but mostly just hung out around the house, piddling with my projects in my new shop and my garden. I was very content playing with my welder and swinging in my ha...

How about that Notre Dame/Louiseville game last night?! Five OT's! And Notre Dame walked away the victor. A really fun game to watch. Then there was the Purdue/Michigan State game, which saw my Boilers dig a hole they couldn't get themselves out of. Not fun to watch at all. No cycling for two weeks now. The first day I didn't ride the temp was 2 degrees with a -18 degree wind chill, the wind blowing furiously from the northwest. The next few days the temps remained bitterly cold, so I decided to wait out the weather, hoping for a warm up. Then last week came, and I was called upon for child pick-up duty in the afternoons. With my schedule, driving was the better option. Now, the rain has moved in. Cold, heavy rain, and wind. Not cycling has made me lazy. I haven't done anything remotely physical these last two weeks. I feel like a slug. I'm afraid all the work I put in the last year is going to be undone. I have a trainer I could set up, and I have a dreadmill I...

Leaving the Garmin and the headphones at home gave me the opportunity to walk without constantly thinking about my pace, the mileage, what song was playing. Instead, I was treated to the sounds of the neighborhood and beyond as I walked. Two blocks away, someone in a garage brought out the rata-tat-rata-rata-tat-tat of the drums. Not far beyond the drummer, two groups of young men were circled up on the field of the elementary school to play ultimate frisbee. A deep voice yelled out, "Zig zaggy zig zaggy." And the group answered, "Oy, oy, oy." This they repeated three times then ended it with a raucous, "Whewwwwwww!" One member of the other group took exception to the enthusiasm and sneered, "Team cheers are so ten years ago. Get with it." As I continued on, I heard the city bus coming up behind me. I've learned their unique sound signature from the days commuting to school and the bus following me down the street every now and then. A lo...

My Christmas present was a turntable that can be connected to my computer. I can put on a record, import the music into my library, then download the songs to my mp3 player. This is so cool. My sons had never seen a record before I started buying them to play on the turntable. I had to describe to them how a needle fits into a groove then moves across the record as it spins around. They found this interesting, and ever since I came home with some oldies found at the thrift store, we've been enjoying listening to what my youngest refers to as "old people music." This evening I put on REO Speedwagon. As I was folding clothes from the dryer, my youngest came in and said the guitar playing was "beastly." He chattered on about the different instruments he could make out, telling me the bass had a deeper tone than the electric guitar. I don't know if this is true as I'm not a guitar player and I know next to nothing about the bass, but I wouldn't be surpri...