More thoughts in the time of COVID-19 …
A full year since we went into lockdown. Nearly 550 thousand dead in the US. And the week started with March still trying to be the lion …
Monday was the most interesting. When I woke for a loo run at 0530 it was just snowing a bit (light corn snow). By 0645, when the house began to come alive (no school that day), it was snowing pretty good. 0715 … rain.
This morning it is chilly with only isolated patches of snow left and I will be meeting friends in town for breakfast so this will be short.
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Reading has been offering me a bit of a conundrum. Last week I brought home a book by Neil Gaiman for Paul called Pirate Stew (on the advice of the librarian). It is written in Gaiman’s version of poetry … meaning I couldn’t identify the style as anything other than Gaiman.
Of course, I had to read the book first and discovered it is a kid’s story but done with a Gaiman touch.
Since it was late and a school night, every one went their separate ways and as I settled into bed to read before dropping off to sleep I found my mind trying to rearrange the words in a new book, a comfort food book (like eating mac and cheese) set in 1933 Lambeth in London, into the undefined poetry I just had been reading. Talk about being confused …
I put down the book and finally got to sleep. The next time I picked up the new book the words had put themselves back into the proper prose style.
However, it happened again a couple of evenings later. I was re-reading The Last Unicorn by Peter Beagle and when I settled into bed I found I was thinking in Beagle’s style of writing fantasy.
Maybe I’ll try to find a copy of Chaucer in Olde English to read and see what happens.
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Listening to Paul practice (?) on the electronic drums he got for Christmas reminded me of a couple of maxims I’ve heard regarding practicing …
From one of Lily Tomlin’s monologues … How do you get to Carnegie Hall? Practice. Practice. Practice.
I can’t remember the source of the other … To become an expert don’t practice until you’ve got it right, practice until you can’t get it wrong.
With Paul and drums, he will either continue to practice because he wants to be a drummer or he’ll practice until he’s allowed to stop. I’m not taking odds. Mark has such good timing and loves music so much …
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Today is grandson Tyler’s 24th birthday. A nostalgic day for me. I remember so clearly the summers when he was here and still small and cuddly enough to come downstairs in the morning to curl up on my lap.
I love him and am grateful for him and the moments of joy he has given me.
I am wishing a Blessed day and coming year for him.
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Spent part of yesterday trying to trace the children in a genealogical photo taken at the turn of the last century. I had tried before and had no success. I did hear a story about “Uncle John’s” children and tried tracing that lead without luck.
This time I reached out to a Dibelka in Omaha but no one there recognized the children as resembling anyone in that branch of the family.
However, the cousin who had told me about “Uncle John” in the past contacted me again and said she had stories. Turns out that Uncle John married into the Kaspar line which joined the Dibelka line with George’s paternal grandmother. Confusing enough? But gold to a genealogist. So I have lots of days of research ahead. No time to get bored.
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Saw this on Facebook last thursday …
“Sometimes a moment comes that transports you back decades into the world of your past. … every so often I can’t help but think of what was, and what then ensued.”
… Dan Rather
So ‘til next week …