Memoirs?

Hmmmm..........
I've been thinking about blogging (so much on the news about MySpace.com). Anthony asked me a little while ago why such a shy and reserved person would create a blog. I still don't really have an answer, but I do know I like it better than journaling, of which I have done a lot at particular times of growth in my life.

From the title of this blog and my other (Things I recall with gratitude) one would expect it to be mostly about distant past events. Memoirs is the French word for memories. Perhaps it should be better entitled "thoughts of a biggish fish in a small pond". Ah, semantics.

Anyway, my pond seems to have a leak. The water level goes down intermittently, perhaps 6 inches or so, and once refilled it SOMETIMES goes down again. But sometimes it stays as it is for several days. Hmmmmm..... Such mystery. The nasty, inconvenient part would be having to take it apart and redo it in this heat! And I wonder if we could find the same shape plastic liner. I know there are a lot of options, but the big bugaboo for me is doing THAT job in 85-90 degree heat at 70-80% humidity! Ugh!

Otherwise, I've been stitching and teaching, stitching and teaching. Some days I stitch 8-9 hours.

I love my teaching, especially these days. Although I REALLY miss having Linda and Martha and Karen as accompanists for my students, the computer program Smart Music is a reasonable substitute. My students have such potential! They are truly wonderful, and for me they are a kind of family here in far off Florida, especially since my kids are no longer KIDS, but full fledged grown people with full lives of their own.

The studio!!!! It is so magical. Anthony and I spent some time out there last night in candle light listening to an 80 year old pianist playing Ravel. Ah, bliss. The room almost seems to have a rarefied air - like stepping into one of the magnificent cathedrals in England. There is a spaciousness there with the high ceiling, and a stillness. It's funny - sometimes when it rains I can hear one of those little green froggies outside and it's SO LOUD! How can such tiny, unprepossessing creatures make such a racket!!!???

That, of course, reminds me of a delicious memory! Both when I was growing up in Hanover and as a young mother in Monroe, I recall the calling of the spring peepers with such joy! Like our Florida tree frogs, these little fellas and gals were calling like mad for mates and the sound was a surefire indicator that TRUE spring was on its way!

I've been thinking about grass, too. NO, not the kind you smoke, you silly reader! Growing up in New Hampshire, one of my greatest delights was when I could shed my shoes and wriggle my toes in the young soft green blades of spring grass! Here, I would not DARE to do this, although I see a lot of the neighbor children running barefoot. There are scorpions, and fire ants, and hook worms and UGLY things that, as Anthony says, can ruin your day!!!

OK, that's enough for now. A week from tomorrow is my big anniversary/birthday. Probably food for more memoirs in a little while.....