My Mommy

This song reminds me of my mom, who has been ill for several years. Several times I have been in the position of being able to do nothing but hold her hand and cry with her as she endures so much pain and agony.

Moving aches and pains.

So, we have almost made the whole switch from one apartment to the other, today will bring the last load I think. Yesterday was a whirlwind of moving, shifting, carrying, putting, cleaning, dusting off, and I am soooooo sore today! Even sleeping last night hurt. Today the agenda (heck the whole weeks agenda) is full of cleaning the old apartment from top to bottom. I hate cleaning apartments from move out. It is very satisfying when you are done but the whole process leaves me with a big ol "hey isn't it nap time!?" feeling. I am planning to head over there with a CD player, some good mixes, and a positive attitude as soon as I find one (the attitude, the cd's and player have been located).
Although this apartment is quite a bit smaller than the last apartment so far this one seems to be a little more homey-er. We have put more work into making this one more comfortable than any place we have lived in the last ten years because my parents have to spend so much time in the house now that they are both disabled. We also put a lot of thought into making this accessible as well as attractive and homey (my mother can not lift heavy objects or put her arms over her head, OR bend over). So far the worst thing is the lack of a laundry room (we now have a laundry closet) and that we went from two bathrooms down to one. :(

Rock, Paper, Scissors, Lizard, Spock.

Sheldon, Sheldon, Sheldon...

When do you realize that you are losing it?

When you become jealous of a fictional rat. Why you ask? Because he is better read than I am. I have been reading Firmin: A Tale of Exile, Unrequited Love, and the Redemptive Power of Literature, by Sam Savage over the past week. A book about how -

"In the basement of a Boston bookstore, Firmin is born in a shredded copy
Finnegans Wake, nurtured on a diet of Zane Grey, Lady Chatterley’s Lover, and
Jane Eyre (which tastes a lot like lettuce). While his twelve siblings gnaw
these books obliviously, for Firmin the words, thoughts, deeds, and hopes—all
the literature he consumes—soon consume him. Emboldened by reading, intoxicated
by curiosity, foraging for food, Firmin ventures out of his bookstore sanctuary,
carrying with him all the yearnings and failings of humanity itself. It’s a lot
to ask of a rat—especially when his home is on the verge of annihilation."

Strange, you say, a book about a rat who not only eats books but can read. Oh wait didn't i see this movie??? you ask "Tale of Despereaux"? No, this is not a child's book, not at all, this is not some heroic mouse bent on saving the princess, this rat has some serious social and behavioral issues, even for a rat. But that's all well and good, (you know what I mean), what caused me problems was that within the first year of this rats life, he had read more of the classics then I had in all of my *mumble mumble* years! He has 'devoured' books such as"Oliver Twist. Huckleberry Finn. The Great Gatsby. Dead Souls. Middlemarch. Alice in Wonderland. Fathers and Sons. The Grapes of Wrath. The Way of All Flesh. And American Tragedy. Peter Pan. The Red and the Black. Lady Chatterley's Lover" (p. 20). Not to mention"...the Bible, The Koran, the Bhagavad Gita, the Book of the Dead...Kant, Hegel, Swedenborg..."(p.18). I WAS JEALOUS OF A FREAKIN FICTIONAL CHARACTER....AND IT WAS A RAT!!!!

So, after coming to grips with this I have decided I really need to read more classics and maybe less books about animals who read faster than I do.

Apollo and Daphne

Apollo and Daphne Carrara's marble cm. 243 Gian Lorenzo Bernini

"Gian Lorenzo Bernini created an unpreviousd masterpiece for Cardinal Scipione Borghese depicting the chaste nymph Daphne being turned into a laurel tree, pursued in vain by Apollo god of light.
This life-size marble sculpture, begun by Bernini at the age of twenty-four and executed between 1622 and 1625, has always been housed in the same villa, but originally stood on a lower and narrower base set against the wall near the stairs. Consequently anyone entering the room first saw Apollo from behind, then the fleeing nymph appeared in the process of metamorphosis: brak covers most of her body, but according to Ovid's lines, Apollo's hand can still feel her heart beating beneath it.Thus the scene ends by Daphne being transformed into a laurel tree to escape her divine aggressor.
The presence of this pagan myth in the Cardinal's villa was justified by a moral couplet composed in Latin by Cardinal Maffeo Barberini (later Pope Urban VIII) and engraved on the cartouche on the base, which says: Those who love to pursue fleeting forms of pleasure, in the end find only leaves and bitter berries in their hands.
In 1785, when Marcantonio IV Borghese decided to place the work in the centre of the room, Vincenzo Pacetti designed the present base by using the original pieces, adding plaster to the plinth and another cartouche bearing the Borghese eagle, sculpted by Lorenzo Cardelli. "

This is one of my favorite sculptures, I am a big fan of the Greek myths and had recently read Ovid's Metamorphosis. Just as the title implies it is full of myths that include people changing in one way or another. In the story of Daphne and Apollo she changes into that of a Laurel tree right in front of the pursuing Apollo. The artist Bernini has captured not only the grace of the transformation, but I also like the fluid movement in Daphne's hair as it turns to Laurel leaves, the wrap that is around Apollo that although made of stone seems to float on a wind that blew long ago, and the way he has carved it so that you could walk around it so many times and still see something new.

Is it time to say goodbye?

When is it time to acknowledge the death of a family tradition? My family has been going to the same lake every summer, for as long as I can remember, for a family reunion. My aunts, uncles, cousins, great aunts and great uncles, cousins removed several times, second cousins...you get the idea. We all gather to eat, look at each other across the pavilion and realize we have never ever ever talked to each other in our lives.
This is what it has evolved into.
When I was little the reunions were a blast. My grandpa would arrange games that were played by everyone, especially the kids. Water balloon fights, sack races, three legged races, pinatas every year, swimming, watermelon seed spitting contests (we only had this because my aunts are wicked good at this, I suck), Frisbee games, baseball games, stuff like that was arranged every year. Now that my grandfather is older and not able to handle the arrangements, nothing gets done. I tried to make some fun stuff happen last year, but no one was interested in helping me.
So as the family reunion rolls around again this year I find that I have less than zero interest in going, and I am not the only one. Most of my great aunts and uncles don't feel like driving up for the reunion, the only one of their generation attending is my grandpa. This means most of their (great aunts and uncles) children probably will not attend. Yeah, that leaves my aunts, uncles and cousins, all of whom I see on a regular basis. Not so much a family reunion as a family get together. I feel no real need to go, add the fact that it is over an hour away and I feel even less need to go.
So the question is when do you declare a family tradition dead, and not worth carrying on as a tradition anymore? When half the people stop showing up for it. When it is no longer the joyous occasion it used to be and has turned into a hassle? When the many generations seem to just not care about getting together anymore it just doesn't seem worth it. Any thoughts?

3 Doors Down

I am not known for being the girl that seeks out new music, concerts and musical experiences and the like. If I hear something i like, fine, I know what I like when I hear it, tend to have varied taste of what I enjoy when it comes to the music that I like. The music I grew up with, the music my parents grew up with and the music my grandparents grew up with...it all appeals to me.

When I was around the end of my High School years or so the band 3 Doors Down came out. I have fond memories of driving around with their tunes blasting on the car radio and singing at the top of our lungs. Their lyrics have always reached a certain place inside of me that I rarely acknowledge and feel free enough to let it out for the few minutes it takes to belt out, sway along with or just listen to one of their songs.

So when I heard that they were coming to town, and my friend Jess (who also really enjoys them) asked if I wanted to see them I knew I had to accept or regret missing the chance to see the band that has represented not only a piece of my life, but keeps doing so by speaking my thoughts before I can realize them.

The concert was awesome. They played every song I hoped they would, including the song Kryptonite, the song that as a teenager I belted out of the car window, into the sunny summer days and forgot, briefly, all of my worries.

Plus the opening band was Tim Mahoney (sp?) So there was even a non sucky opening act!