A sure sign of spring is always the emerging of snowdrops. I searched all the digital photos I have. I even looked through some posts from the early blogging days to try and find a photo of the patches of snowdrops that always made their entrance in early March. I'm certain I have written about them before.
They were usually surrounded by bits of snow and their bright green fragility was always fascinating to me. Such a backdrop of white with spring green shooting up between the patches. Such a delicate flower yet hearty enough to withstand cold winds, rain, and even more snow sometimes!
Shawn walked in this morning and said, "Hey, did you see the snowdrops on the side of the house?"
I had not, but my excitement was uncontainable. I went to photograph them as soon as I could and then began the search for my old pictures. No luck.
These are not my snowdrops but they gave me a lot of joy this morning thinking about the patches that are waiting for me in our woods back home. They also reminded me that sometimes the strongest embodiments of life have fragile exteriors.
It's been a long week. I have to say I am really looking forward to Friday. After having conferences this week, being out of my classroom for three days (sick kid and then a math training), and trying to keep up with other responsibilities I'd be lying if I said it's all going great. I am in need of a nap that lasts several hours. I'm not talking about a power nap. We are way beyond that. We are talking several uninterrupted hours of sleep. I am hoping that nap pays me a visit this weekend but until then, this is not my rhythm.
I miss the morning
peeks at ponds
and birds
and sun hit hues
of leaves
and trees,
commuting bees,
passing while humming a tune.
Now it's me.
A semi or ten,
road ragers,
chaos,
engaged.
No wandering of mind
or wondering eyes.
This is just not
my way.
These are both pictures I found in the media library of my first blog. I remembered I used to stop and take photos in the morning of my drive. There is a pond with beautiful birds. I love my old drive. I'm looking forward to getting it back next year.
I guess it's not so much the driveway as it is the sky above it that intrigues me. Shawn and I would often walk out to the take out the trash or get the mail late at night. When we would be out there we would frequently call the other one out to look at the sky. At night we would see the big and little dipper, the moon off to one side and other constellations scattered about. We had a clear view most nights.
From this driveway, we can also see a lot and it is often clear when the clouds decide to roll somewhere else for the night. Shawn has this really cool app, Sky Walk 2. You basically point your phone in the direction of the sky and it shows you a precise depiction of what constellation is above you. Pretty neat.
We went outside with it tonight to see what bits of sky we get here. Below is a screenshot of one slice of sky. Both of us love this constellation.
I may not be in my driveway but I still get the same sky.
As Shawn and I prepare to meet with the builder to envision our new home we have found there are benefits to living in a home that is not yours. You begin to realize things you never had that might be nice!
Our house was a traditional fifties style home complete with a pink tile bathroom, orangey brick facade, sturdy doors, and a galley style kitchen. The home we are currently renting could not be more different. It is a bi-level home complete with large open kitchen, lots of stairs, and space to move.
Our house was small and this house is big. One thing we have definitely decided is we DO NOT need a larger home, necessarily. Our method of operation is to fill the space and we do not need more "stuff." That might sound funny coming from someone who lost practically everything. However, it really puts all your "things" into perspective. One thing we do love about this house is it has two sets of sliding doors.
We were sketching out ideas last night and Shawn said, "Wouldn't a sliding door out our bedroom be nice?"
I got excited! "Yes, right out to a deck!?"
It's so completely overwhelming to try and picture what a new home will look like when you realize how many decisions it will become and how much everything will cost!
"What color grout do you want in the bathroom? Carpet or hardwood? Which door knob do you prefer? Can you look at these samples?"
And yet, it is exciting. It was not planned. The timing could probably not be worse but at this time next year, I might just have a sliding door somewhere in my new home. I'll hold onto that.
Not my slider + several leaves that the Michigan wind decided to pile up right outside!
Shawn has always had a unique sense of style when it comes to the music he listens to. This has definitely rubbed off on me and we tend to enjoy listening to the same kinds of music. It's quite a mix.
One of his favorites a while back was the group, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros. They have a unique and hopeful sound. Their sound has changed quite a bit over the years and we prefer the earlier songs. One of their biggest hits was the song "Home." You probably heard it on the radio.
One day, while perusing their website, Shawn stumbled upon a doormat with a line from the song. We loved it and bought it immediately.
As I look at the mat now it means so much more. This may not be my doormat anymore but someday it will be again and its message is even more meaningful.
When I was in high school, music was my life. I had been playing trumpet for many years already and decided that I would dedicate my life to music. It was my everything. I wasn't someone who was overtly social and music was an easy way for me to connect to others. Because of this dedication, I had a longing to learn to play piano. My parents were extremely supportive and at the age of 15 invested in a beautiful piano for me so I could learn. From there I began piano lessons with the organist from our church and would occasionally play for our congregation. I never became a person who could sit at a piano and play a tune from memory but I learned and felt fulfilled by the experience.
I then went to college as a music major, changed to a speech-language pathologist, and because of the work I began doing with children realized that education was my true calling. Music never left my soul but it did begin to take a back seat to my studies, family, and marriage.
We bought our home in 2005, just a few short months after Elliot was born. I remember the excitement I felt as my parents brought the piano to our new house. My dad built a wooden box with foam supports to protect the wood and we rolled the piano into its new home. I would occasionally plink the keys or pull out old songs that I had learned. At one point I wrote a song for a play the kindergarten students in my school would perform on that same piano.
A few years ago I decided I wanted to learn a new song. It was a stressful time in my life and playing the piano proved to be therapeutic. The song was "Falling Slowly" from the movie Once, which if you haven't seen Once, watch it tonight. Probably my favorite movie of all time. I had to take it a few measures at a time and it probably took me almost eight months to work my way through the whole song. I practiced almost every night and I can probably count on one hand the number of times I played it in its entirety without a mistake. Those were joyous moments. And by joyous I mean obnoxiously joyous and the entire neighborhood probably heard my screams of delight.
Of all the things we lost, losing my piano proved to be the most difficult for me. I had a really hard time letting it go. We tried to save it, had it looked at by experts, appraised, and then the news came that it would not be salvageable. I had known the truth from the beginning but the thought of not being able to keep my piano was quite devastating. Of course, it's just a thing, I realize that but it was very special to me.
Mom to the rescue again! She suggested I take the music stand/holder off the piano and make something like a picture frame or wall hanging. Shawn went and removed it for me, cleaned it, and it now sits on top of our fireplace at the home we are living in now. It's a nice reminder and will someday be a nice piece to hang on a wall. Until then, I will look at it and sadly remember that it will no longer make music for me but it will hold memories all the while.
