(no subject)
The dogs snore. Loudly.
Well, Baby and Boone do. Honestly, I've rarely seen Smokey sleep...certainly not deep enough to snore. But the other two can saw it UP. Particularly Baby. Boone has just started to snore. She also howls along with Smokey when I do my "loud exercises" when practicing. Burst attacks, they're called. You'd have to be present to understand. Suffice it to say, it's loud. Smokey may not be the sharpest crayon in the box(or whatever), but he HAS learned over the years what exercise comes right before the loud ones. And that's when he actually starts crying/howling. Boone joins in. I'm PRETTY sure she doesn't know why, just that she feels badly for him. When I get to the actual loud exercises, Boone goes upstairs and barks at the dog that isn't across the street. Baby may get up and leave as well, unless she has a comfortable spot on the love seat, which is often. Then she groans very quietly, deep in her throat to indicate her displeasure. Smokey will hide in his kennel until the point I begin the loud things. Then...he howls, cries...and comes CLOSER to me.
*shakes head*
He's also not fond of Bb blues. More specifically, he's not fond of when I improvise on a Bb blues progression. I don't think it's my playing, I think he's just not fond of that particular key/progression. When I switch to F or Eb blues, he has no qualms.
Last week was a whirlwind of travel, and need to catch up on that. I posted something about Monday, when I was in Ames for a chiro appointment, and took a trip out to the lake. Something I forgot about, though. There is a bakery in Ames called Dutch Oven Bakery. I'm not sure how many know the reference, but I had a fear of going in and having them suddenly close all the doors, windows...trap me inside, and then all the employees would suddenly fart to beat the band.
I was getting electro muscle stim while waiting for the chiro. This is a WONDERFULl thing. I need to get my OWN electro stim machine. Each time I was hooked up, they were able to speed it up more and more. I really love that machine, that part of the appointment. While I was laying there, the song "Song Sung Blue" came on over the radio station they have playing. And I was reminded of a song my buddy Steve made up in college. For a very brief time, he lived with a Korean tuba player. His name was Sung, Sung Ju Yu to be more specific. Wonderful tuba player, nice enough guy, if not a little surly at times. Steve would sing this, to the tune of "Song Sung Blue."
"Sung Ju Yu
He's a crazy Korean....
Sung Jy Yu
Better watch out
Where you're peein'."
Those were all the words he had...but they were plenty.
On Wednesday, I drove about 700 miles between 8 am and 8 pm. I drove from here to The Farm, to get my dad. The Farm is about 12 miles west of Lincoln, NE, about a 214 mile trip, if I remember correctly. Then home to Wilton, another 340 miles or so. Then back to Des Moines to home for ME, about 130 miles.
I was tired.
On the other hand, it was a fun day, overall. The drive out to NE started cloudy, but by the time I got about an hour west, the sky was clearing, and the sun was blazing across the sky. It made for a good trip. I was going to stop in Walnut for some fud, but the exit was temporarily closed while they black topped the road. This was a common theme...not the closed exits, but the black topping. There was a LOT of construction. I know I'm not the first to say this, but construction workers seem to have a HORRIBLE case of ADD, setting up orange cones and barrels, blocking off miles and miles of lane...then forgetting where they left them.
When I got to the farm, it was about 11:30. We had lunch, and then I went outside to wander around a bit. Something that has been different, both in far western Iowa and The Farm...is how green everything is. When my sisters, dad and I went out a couple years ago, the grass was dry, dying, crunching under step. Not so now. It's more like I remember when I was little. I took my sandals off and walked barefoot, first in the grass, then the gravel driveway. The gravel is still smooth, rounded over...not as soft as the grass, but still comfortable...comforting.
A little back tracking. My sisters came out to see my dad the week before last. One lives near Denver, the other near Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City sister flew to Denver, and then they(and my niece and nephew) made the trip out by car. They took my dad out to The Farm on their way back, none of them having seen the new house. Which is why I drove out to get him.
And now, back to regularly scheduled programming.
My sisters had lamented that The Farm just wasn't The Farm any more. Well...they do have a point, at least a little one. (on their heads) (rimshot) The barn is gone...as is the old farm house. My aunt and uncle have built a new house in it's place. It's a beautiful home, really. Open...roomy...cool. It's just not the old farm house. The old garage still stands, which is still home to my grandpa's pickup. And the corncrib still stands. And this. It sits just east of the house, under shade. I'm sure it's purpose at one point was to hold flowers or some such ornamentation. But what it really is for...is jumping. Jumping on top of and gazing across the yard, The Farm, your bare feet slapping the cement top, cool and forgiving in the shade. So...there ARE artifacts, reminders of what once was.
My sisters made a grave mistake, though.
They didn't go look.
And smell. And touch, feel.
Study...remember...cry a little...
In front of the corn crib is my uncles garden. WONDERFUL garden. The land, no matter how dry it seems to get or HAS been...is fertile, giving. A few feet up from THAT...is a path. A trail, if you will. It's where tractors and trucks and sundry vehicles slowly crawled west to the fields. The ground still shows their path. You barely have to look to see the ages old tire tracks...tracks that are still followed by new tractors and trucks. The ground there is baked, cracked...ancient. When you bend down and touch it, it crumbles just slightly, gives just a little. Almost a sigh. A happy, contented sigh...close your eyes, smell the sun...and hear the earth sigh in happiness.
The ride home was pretty uneventful. My dad IS getting older, and DOES repeat himself, his stories. But...he's always done that, frankly. Not just now that he's older. My aunt and uncle assured me over and over that he got around fine, seemed to be just fine. I know he's tired, lonely. It IS hard for him to move around, and he doesn't see or hear as sharply as he once did. But...he still does well, from what I could tell. The only real uncomfortable moment was when he suddenly felt the urge to give me details of his and my mom's honeymoon. Not a lot of detail. Just enough that I clenched the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are still white. I have emptied one bottle of vodka in hopes of purging those few, minor details...but they remain. God help me, there may not be enough alcohol in the known universe.
Thursday was band, which meant another trip east. It's always worth it, even though at the time I REALLY didn't want to drive. We had a concert Friday in Independence, IA. What a GREAT concert it turned out to be. The crowd was sparse at times, but by the end, it had grown quite a bit. Loved playing there, and I want to go back and just explore that town. We have unofficially been invited back for next year.
After that concert, we(the band) drove a little further east to Manchester, IA. A former member is suffering from cancer, and the cancer is winning. He was to have surgery a couple weeks ago to remove a tumor. But...they opened him up...and just closed him back up. Called hospice. He is home with his wife and kids. He is not much older than me. Young children who may not all completely understand what is happening. We decided, sort of spur of the moment, that we would go and play a concert in his yard. A lot of the neighborhood showed up. It was...difficult at times. He still moves around rather well, and seems in AMAZING spirits. I know he is just happy to be home.
For me, selfishly...it was hard to not think about mom.
After that, I got on the road to head home. I drove to Cedar Falls first, to pick up Boone. She had spent a couple days/nights with G in their house in CF. I took a quick tour of the house and yard. It's a BEAUTIFUL house...and located not far from Sturgis Falls. Indeed, I turned the wrong way, and ended up in the park where the Brass Band has played. It's exactly the part of town I've daydreamed of living. The house is on a corner lot, ideal I've always thought. It was...odd, strange, though. To walk around a foreign house and see such familiar furniture, familiar things...that had long been a part of my life. Now home for someone else...in a different home.
My own fault, though.
Boone was THRILLED to see me. I guess she missed me...she jumped and whined as soon as she saw me, and at one point, jumped up and into my arms. Then she sat on my lap nearly the whole way home. Probably not the safest for her...but I let her. She watched out the window as we ate more miles.
I didn't really see any specific fireworks Friday night. I sort of just wanted to get home. But I did see bursts and explosions of color when I got back to Des Moines. It was enough to sate my hunger for them. The neighborhood was alive with parties and people...and more fireworks. At one point, the entire neighborhood seemed blanketed in smoke.
The loud noises were a little perplexing to the dogs. Smokey cowered in his kennel, barking from time to time. Boone ran upstairs many a time to bark at the smoke.
Baby even stopped snoring at one point.
Well, Baby and Boone do. Honestly, I've rarely seen Smokey sleep...certainly not deep enough to snore. But the other two can saw it UP. Particularly Baby. Boone has just started to snore. She also howls along with Smokey when I do my "loud exercises" when practicing. Burst attacks, they're called. You'd have to be present to understand. Suffice it to say, it's loud. Smokey may not be the sharpest crayon in the box(or whatever), but he HAS learned over the years what exercise comes right before the loud ones. And that's when he actually starts crying/howling. Boone joins in. I'm PRETTY sure she doesn't know why, just that she feels badly for him. When I get to the actual loud exercises, Boone goes upstairs and barks at the dog that isn't across the street. Baby may get up and leave as well, unless she has a comfortable spot on the love seat, which is often. Then she groans very quietly, deep in her throat to indicate her displeasure. Smokey will hide in his kennel until the point I begin the loud things. Then...he howls, cries...and comes CLOSER to me.
*shakes head*
He's also not fond of Bb blues. More specifically, he's not fond of when I improvise on a Bb blues progression. I don't think it's my playing, I think he's just not fond of that particular key/progression. When I switch to F or Eb blues, he has no qualms.
Last week was a whirlwind of travel, and need to catch up on that. I posted something about Monday, when I was in Ames for a chiro appointment, and took a trip out to the lake. Something I forgot about, though. There is a bakery in Ames called Dutch Oven Bakery. I'm not sure how many know the reference, but I had a fear of going in and having them suddenly close all the doors, windows...trap me inside, and then all the employees would suddenly fart to beat the band.
I was getting electro muscle stim while waiting for the chiro. This is a WONDERFULl thing. I need to get my OWN electro stim machine. Each time I was hooked up, they were able to speed it up more and more. I really love that machine, that part of the appointment. While I was laying there, the song "Song Sung Blue" came on over the radio station they have playing. And I was reminded of a song my buddy Steve made up in college. For a very brief time, he lived with a Korean tuba player. His name was Sung, Sung Ju Yu to be more specific. Wonderful tuba player, nice enough guy, if not a little surly at times. Steve would sing this, to the tune of "Song Sung Blue."
"Sung Ju Yu
He's a crazy Korean....
Sung Jy Yu
Better watch out
Where you're peein'."
Those were all the words he had...but they were plenty.
On Wednesday, I drove about 700 miles between 8 am and 8 pm. I drove from here to The Farm, to get my dad. The Farm is about 12 miles west of Lincoln, NE, about a 214 mile trip, if I remember correctly. Then home to Wilton, another 340 miles or so. Then back to Des Moines to home for ME, about 130 miles.
I was tired.
On the other hand, it was a fun day, overall. The drive out to NE started cloudy, but by the time I got about an hour west, the sky was clearing, and the sun was blazing across the sky. It made for a good trip. I was going to stop in Walnut for some fud, but the exit was temporarily closed while they black topped the road. This was a common theme...not the closed exits, but the black topping. There was a LOT of construction. I know I'm not the first to say this, but construction workers seem to have a HORRIBLE case of ADD, setting up orange cones and barrels, blocking off miles and miles of lane...then forgetting where they left them.
When I got to the farm, it was about 11:30. We had lunch, and then I went outside to wander around a bit. Something that has been different, both in far western Iowa and The Farm...is how green everything is. When my sisters, dad and I went out a couple years ago, the grass was dry, dying, crunching under step. Not so now. It's more like I remember when I was little. I took my sandals off and walked barefoot, first in the grass, then the gravel driveway. The gravel is still smooth, rounded over...not as soft as the grass, but still comfortable...comforting.
A little back tracking. My sisters came out to see my dad the week before last. One lives near Denver, the other near Salt Lake City. Salt Lake City sister flew to Denver, and then they(and my niece and nephew) made the trip out by car. They took my dad out to The Farm on their way back, none of them having seen the new house. Which is why I drove out to get him.
And now, back to regularly scheduled programming.
My sisters had lamented that The Farm just wasn't The Farm any more. Well...they do have a point, at least a little one. (on their heads) (rimshot) The barn is gone...as is the old farm house. My aunt and uncle have built a new house in it's place. It's a beautiful home, really. Open...roomy...cool. It's just not the old farm house. The old garage still stands, which is still home to my grandpa's pickup. And the corncrib still stands. And this. It sits just east of the house, under shade. I'm sure it's purpose at one point was to hold flowers or some such ornamentation. But what it really is for...is jumping. Jumping on top of and gazing across the yard, The Farm, your bare feet slapping the cement top, cool and forgiving in the shade. So...there ARE artifacts, reminders of what once was.
My sisters made a grave mistake, though.
They didn't go look.
And smell. And touch, feel.
Study...remember...cry a little...
In front of the corn crib is my uncles garden. WONDERFUL garden. The land, no matter how dry it seems to get or HAS been...is fertile, giving. A few feet up from THAT...is a path. A trail, if you will. It's where tractors and trucks and sundry vehicles slowly crawled west to the fields. The ground still shows their path. You barely have to look to see the ages old tire tracks...tracks that are still followed by new tractors and trucks. The ground there is baked, cracked...ancient. When you bend down and touch it, it crumbles just slightly, gives just a little. Almost a sigh. A happy, contented sigh...close your eyes, smell the sun...and hear the earth sigh in happiness.
The ride home was pretty uneventful. My dad IS getting older, and DOES repeat himself, his stories. But...he's always done that, frankly. Not just now that he's older. My aunt and uncle assured me over and over that he got around fine, seemed to be just fine. I know he's tired, lonely. It IS hard for him to move around, and he doesn't see or hear as sharply as he once did. But...he still does well, from what I could tell. The only real uncomfortable moment was when he suddenly felt the urge to give me details of his and my mom's honeymoon. Not a lot of detail. Just enough that I clenched the steering wheel so hard my knuckles are still white. I have emptied one bottle of vodka in hopes of purging those few, minor details...but they remain. God help me, there may not be enough alcohol in the known universe.
Thursday was band, which meant another trip east. It's always worth it, even though at the time I REALLY didn't want to drive. We had a concert Friday in Independence, IA. What a GREAT concert it turned out to be. The crowd was sparse at times, but by the end, it had grown quite a bit. Loved playing there, and I want to go back and just explore that town. We have unofficially been invited back for next year.
After that concert, we(the band) drove a little further east to Manchester, IA. A former member is suffering from cancer, and the cancer is winning. He was to have surgery a couple weeks ago to remove a tumor. But...they opened him up...and just closed him back up. Called hospice. He is home with his wife and kids. He is not much older than me. Young children who may not all completely understand what is happening. We decided, sort of spur of the moment, that we would go and play a concert in his yard. A lot of the neighborhood showed up. It was...difficult at times. He still moves around rather well, and seems in AMAZING spirits. I know he is just happy to be home.
For me, selfishly...it was hard to not think about mom.
After that, I got on the road to head home. I drove to Cedar Falls first, to pick up Boone. She had spent a couple days/nights with G in their house in CF. I took a quick tour of the house and yard. It's a BEAUTIFUL house...and located not far from Sturgis Falls. Indeed, I turned the wrong way, and ended up in the park where the Brass Band has played. It's exactly the part of town I've daydreamed of living. The house is on a corner lot, ideal I've always thought. It was...odd, strange, though. To walk around a foreign house and see such familiar furniture, familiar things...that had long been a part of my life. Now home for someone else...in a different home.
My own fault, though.
Boone was THRILLED to see me. I guess she missed me...she jumped and whined as soon as she saw me, and at one point, jumped up and into my arms. Then she sat on my lap nearly the whole way home. Probably not the safest for her...but I let her. She watched out the window as we ate more miles.
I didn't really see any specific fireworks Friday night. I sort of just wanted to get home. But I did see bursts and explosions of color when I got back to Des Moines. It was enough to sate my hunger for them. The neighborhood was alive with parties and people...and more fireworks. At one point, the entire neighborhood seemed blanketed in smoke.
The loud noises were a little perplexing to the dogs. Smokey cowered in his kennel, barking from time to time. Boone ran upstairs many a time to bark at the smoke.
Baby even stopped snoring at one point.