delicious and delightful

Today was simply too gorgeous of a day on every level to not post a blog.  I was a guest of some generous people at the Olympic Music Festival.  For those of you who ever came to one of my gigs at the White Barn in St. Helena, this is very similar in design.

My ferrywards walk garnered me $.12!

Isn't my city lovely?

The outside of the venue.

When going on a picnic, you are assured of good eats when the hosts are Italian.  I neglected to take photos of the delish raspberries and creme fraiche which served as dessert.

Bits from the flower garden on the grounds.

Every proper garden ought to have a friendly scarecrow.

"Daisies are the happiest flower."  (I will donate my $.12 to anyone who can name the movie and the actress who speaks that line.)

There were also donkeys on the grounds.  How often do you get to pet a donkey and hear Mozart played by a professional string quartet?

We're having stunning sunsets right now and I am taking pictures of them all.  This is when I wish I could paint well.  Ah well, perhaps it is best to simply breathe and stare at the sky as the colours change.

hiatus

Juggling three part-time jobs, teaching lessons and taking Italian is all taking a toll on me.  Another childhood aphorism is to not say anything if you've nothing nice to say, so I am taking a rest from blogging while my life whirls on.  Back in awhile.  Enjoy your summer.

childhood chant

Ladybug!  Ladybug!
Fly away home.
Your house is on fire.

And your children all gone.

 

 

Have never quite understood that childhood poem, but it popped into my head when I found said ladybug on my pea plants today.  A nickel found on the library trek and a cooling trend are the delights of this day.  Stay tuned for tomorrow's adventure--I won a ticket to a local opera company's production of La Somunbula!

Homeward Bound

 (happy poppies on the way to the library)

Lyrics from the song which I performed last week will suffice for Poetry Friday as it's beyond too hot to think/create.   I'm still not sure that I like the meaning of this poem when I analyze it with any depth.  The music was swoopy and emotional--perhaps some poems are meant to only be lyrics and not read separately.

In the quiet misty morning
when the moon has gone to bed,
when the sparrows stop their singing
and the sky is clear and red,

when the summer's ceased its gleaming
when the corn is past its prime,
when adventure's lost its meaning,
I'll be homeward bound in time.

Bind me not to the pasture;
chain me not to the plow,
set me free to find my calling
and I'll return to you somehow.

If you find it's me you're missing,
if you're hoping I'll return,
to your thoughts I'll soon be list'ning,
in the road I'll stop and turn

Then the wind will set me racing
as my journey nears its end,
and the path I'll soon be retracing
when I'm homeward bound again.

by Marta Keen

huge, HUGE delight

Please admire my new window fan.  Keep in mind that I have one window which opens in this small aerie, and you will realize what a huge delight this is.  AND I have unending electricity with which to run it.  There have been epochs (as Anne-with-an-e would say) where I have had to choose which utility would be on and I'm happy to have them all functioning.  (I don't think that I mentioned in my previous rant on summer that the homicide rates spike during heat waves.  But there you have it.  I am not the only one who is irritable with the rise in mercury.)

One of the nicest things about FB (Facebook) is keeping in touch with former students.  Had the loveliest chat with R (yes, he is the one in the dress in the above photo from a state festival) about his summer job, his college major and his mature/improved view of the world.  Made me smile all afternoon and evening.

Bogart is doing his best nonplussed limp lying about during this heat.  With that furry coat, can't say that I blame him.

if home is where the heart is

then pretty sure my home is in Seattle's Central Library where there is a delightful Chocolate Cafe on the mezzanine level.   The library was just named one of the most influential architectural structures of this century.  Which seems a rather grand statement as this century is just beginning.

I'm still deciding what I think about the outside of the place, but the innards are quite nice.

A stripey sweet pea...although, I'm pretty sure the technical term is varigated.

mid-summer musings

While there are many delightful aspects to what I call la fille unique de la vie, one peril is getting dressed and out the door to one's up-front-and-in-the-spotlight career while having no other eyes checking the outfit.  Hence, it was far past time to get a full-length mirror.  As it is supposed to hit the 90s this week, decided to go to the local hardware store before they run out of fans and found mirrors on sale.

Been pondering my delight in my miniature garden.  I know as a child, I did not delight in anything to do with weeding or picking of any produce.  Perhaps there's a serenity in poking in the dirt.  I know there's delight in seeing things grow and bloom.

Perhaps it's a sense of rootedness.  I remember reading a friend's dissertation about growing up as a mission kid and I felt a resonance as I read her words.  There's a dichotomy of feeling as though I belong nowhere and as though I could fit in almost anywhere.   I recently counted up my mailing/street addresses.  I've 38 so far.  I'm 40.  I've attended four elementary schools, (Sierra View, Valley View, Kelso-Longview and Middle River) three high schools (Laurelwood Academy, Lincoln City [homeschool], Columbia Academy, four colleges for undergrad (Walla Walla University, Newbold College, Delta Community College, Pacific Union College) and five grad/continuing ed universities (University of Washington, San Jose State University, Dartmouth,  Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley and finally Westminster Choir College). I've three resumes--one for performing/auditions gigs and two for other jobs. 

Does this make me flaky or versatile?

It's no wonder I hold myself aloof from groups and why I feel so restless and gypsy-like.   I have packing and moving down to a two-day science.  I often wonder if I will ever root in one place  or commit to a community or career path.  Or if I will continue to waft about my entire life.

I have no conclusions to any of these ponderings.  But for now my soul is content as my tomatoes are turning red prior to our heat wave.  And for now, my roots are here.