August 2010 ~
Summer brings out a word to me.

Taste.

I have been eating seasonally the past two years and it brings not only anticipation but also complete satisfaction. Eating foods only when they are in season has become so great I will never again eat a tomato in the winter. (there are exceptions of course)

The bounty of summer garden fare coupled with sunshine makes me insanely content in my eating and cooking. Granted I no longer live in an apartment and have the time to cultivate all my favorites in our garden.
My heirloom tomatoes, summer squash, green beans and spinach I simply can’t get enough of.

This year I have also made even more vinegars. Blackberry, strawberry, raspberry and basil. All from which we either grew or walked down the road to get. Just looking at the bottles holding the vibrant colors makes me almost giddy.

There is something about everyone’s tastes that seem to be highlighted in the summer. Any season of course brings out the preferences of people, especially during the holiday feasts - But I am talking about barbecues, concerts, gardens, canning, vacations - it’s all a matter of taste.

The things I do in life are almost always a matter of preferred taste. My music, cooking, writing, art. My husband on the other hand is self employed doing work everyday that has nothing to do with taste. He fixes big equipment. You either fix it or you don’t.
His customers don’t care what he is wearing, what lunch he brings, how he sounds on the phone or what tools he uses. They just want it fixed now. And in Brett’s case he is really good at what he does.
In some cases he is the only one in the area that can fix a certain type of equipment. With what I do - there is someone on every corner all over the world that does what I do and I am certainly not even close to the best. Unless you hear the people who love my music talk - to them I am.

You hate music or love music, there are food likes, dislikes and allergies. It has always interested me that someone down the street can cook just as well as the people on television making money but they simply are not known.

Of course the same rules for music. And there are always 100 of people better than you and 100 people worse but the ones heard and known are considered SO much better.

Same with bakers, growers, and other artisan ventures. Wineries can win medals on a certain wine yet on the same day someone pours out the same wine in their tasting room and wrinkles their face in disapproval.

Someone can “love” your song and another person writes their blog about how much they hate it. You can prepare your best meal and someone will not care for it. My husbands job would never be a love hate performance.

The thing about taste is the good and bad opinions can happen all in a matter of minutes. Maybe that is one reason so many artists are the tortured souls. The ups and downs, your in-your out, constant critique of what you do and who you are is a mood wrecker to say the least.

That is why you always hear the sweet adage of loving what you do no matter what. That’s such beautiful sweet syrup when someone walks into your gig and says out loud “You suck!” We would not be human if that didn’t sting a bit and make you question.

I am certain my husband has not only never faced that with his work but also he never questions how he fixes equipment. If he is baffled he figures it out. There is always an answer with his job and he has the mind to understand. But never has a customer walked up to him and said “This sucks!” Or “Your tools are the worst brand ever” I have heard all of that and then some with what I do.

It’s all a matter of taste. And rightly so. It’s also a matter of worth.

When someone has a restaurant where plates are $70+ and bottles of wine are $200+ and the chef is famous somehow that is the place to be. They pay two and three times the amount for the same food prepared somewhat different than any restaurant down the street. If the chef is known and is celebrity status then by all means pay any price.

If you cannot get into a place for months people will stand in line and even bribe to get in. It is being in the know. It is experiencing what other people have experienced.

Atmosphere, obscurity, fame and other people knowing more than you often is the catalyst for experiencing “the thing” at any cost. And again simply satisfying your particular taste is what drives most people. The latest, greatest with anything from food, travel or electronics. It’s the “gotta have it” attitude that keeps people in line overnight for just about anything.

You would think that such lavish expenditures of time and money would bleed over into music. Yet everyone wants music for free. Even the famous sell their songs for pennies. I have read how some indie artists jack the price of a download to show it is worth something more than pocket change. It is a mindset that you get what you pay for.

I have a perfect pair of sandals that I purchased on a killer sale. I got them for 14 dollars. I didn’t pay any attention to brand or original price but have loved the way they fit for almost a year now. I have worn them everywhere and even done yard work in them. I looked up the brand so I could get another pair and they were $55! Um for a pair of plain black flip flop type sandals. Wow. Okay.

All of the sudden I didn’t wear them to garden in. Why? Because I discovered their worth. I also want to keep them as long as possible because I am not going to pay $55 for another pair. Makes you wonder if the guy with the $3 download is onto something. Maybe there is more respect with higher prices.

A culture who pays $3-5 for coffee and begs for free music because 99 cents is too much is just downright crazy to me.

A culture who is enamored with fame and being in the know about strangers is just as bizarre. A culture who thinks a spoonful of fish eggs is worth $120 and the latest techie toy is a months rent for some people is crazy.
We are a quick pay off society.

I guess we are a culture who thrives on the known and being known. Guess that is why so many people seek fame and fortune. We now watch for entertainment, people whose lives are lived out in front of a camera and call it reality. And we think we know them!

People cooking at break neck speeds is supposedly proving how good of cooks they are. Who says it has to be such a speedy competition? I would fail every time under those time restraints.

Somehow we get not only entertained by thinking we are in the know, we also find it entertaining to watch other people interact and compete. And people pay for notoriety and it must bring some kind of peculiar rush to think you are somebody. People must truly lack attention and interaction. I don’t get it.

It is true that people everywhere would be better off if they were happy with what they do no matter what anyone says. Other cultures are so content and happy in their everyday lives. I don’t see that here very often. I see people striving to be something through other people's approval. It’s everywhere in every group of people.

I am very happy with what I do. Has it been frustrating and an uphill climb with my music getting heard? At times yes. But I still LOVE my songs and will sing them whether anyone listens or not. It's the production that is hard for me not the writing, singing, and playing.

People not buying or caring about my music doesn’t stop me from writing them just as someone not liking what I cook does not stop me from cooking. Granted my cooking is not near the heart investment or the money investment as my songs nevertheless nothing keeps me from what I love to do.

I know the worth of what I do even though they are the things in life that are a matter of taste and are always going to be set up to be loved or hated in someone’s eyes.
And I will keep writing 99 cent downloads because I know the real worth of them.
(July below)

July 2010 ~
Summer is finally here. I am not fond of the hot weather but the sun absolutely has to show up for it to be summer.
The older I get the less I care about the months of July and August. I simply can’t function in the heat. But it wasn’t always so.

When I was growing up my summers were spent on our farm. I remember those days like it was yesterday. People talk about the good old days and I always wonder was it really that great? But in my case it REALLY was. I was made for it.

We had the best set up. We didn’t live on the farm. Home was a 5 acre oasis on a hillside about 4 miles away. That is what it was for me. There was nothing like being home or going home after a long day but I just couldn’t get enough farm time.

My great Aunt and Uncle lived in the farmhouse for a few of those years and my grandma lived 1 mailbox away on a dead end lane. You can imagine what it was like for a kid with one brother having a safe place to do all the things we loved.
We rode motorcycles, fished at the creek, played basketball, explored, shot guns, picked berries and I got to spend the gift of time with my Aunt and Grandma. It was the best life.

The great part about my childhood was the balance. There was a time for fun and a time for work. Lucky for me summer work was fun. Not living on the farm was perfect in the sense it was not our only life.

My family of four did so many things. We would join extended family on an annual camping/fishing trip before harvest and we traveled a lot. We would go to the coast often. I spent my 6th birthday in Hawaii. Whether it was the Space Needle, Disneyland, Ghirardelli Square, Portland or cross country skiing in Canada we were always going somewhere it seemed to me. But not from end of June thru August. Summer means one thing to this day…harvest. Okay berries, fishing and harvest.

My first job of painting the corral was very rewarding. It’s where I learned to work alone and found out I really liked time by myself. I discovered a world within the farm and my mind. I made plans, and searched for treasure that I knew was buried somewhere nearby. I also got a huge wad of $1 bills when I was done. I would listen to the creak of the metal windmill and watch it spin and wanted a small one in my room.

The time alone was paired perfectly with seeing people coming in and out and riding to the warehouse with Daddy. The smells inside the warehouse and the hot breeze blowing through. I remember hearing Chicago playing on the am radio as I pushed seed into the grate just for fun. I was often scared of getting too close since an old man who ate cheeseburgers at the café had a wooden leg because he got stuck in one. At least that’s the story I remember.

There were blackberries all over on the farm. I learned to ride a bike there. We had a garden there. I learned to drive. I shot baskets there by the hours. We rode in the back of the pickup and got to drink pop in glass bottles. My only memory of my Grandpa was there - he pushed me on the swing.

I drove the shredder, turned bunches and rode my motorcycle. I stomped sheep’s wool too but can’t remember what time of year that was. Maybe it was around the same time I got scared of my Aunties chickens, got some form of sunstroke and tangled a fishing line so bad I almost had to cut it. I also discovered the scent of fresh dill at Grandmas house.

The years collide as there is little order to my memories. I never think of years I think of my times. There were other seasons on the farm. Lambing season, feeding the cows, pumpkins, cutting wood, hunting, raising bummer lambs, the oil heater in the shop and woodworking.

Summers meant hard work too. It was hot, dirty, and at times monotonous. There were times I wanted to break out of the combine cab. The hours were long and I often was in a “sleepdriving” state thinking my bed was a combine after hours and days in a cab.

There were accidental fires in the field or a controlled burn that went out of control. One of our pickups burned to nothing in one fire that went wrong. There was always danger of fire and I was always on the lookout. Mostly with my nose.

There was a year where the rain came and wouldn’t stop. I was on a windrower with no cab and have never been that cold in my life. The rain was relentless and the crop was ruined. Daddy picked me up and turned the heater on full blast. That was in July.

There were times I was a little lonesome for my friends who were swimming, going to the beach and shopping. But I never wanted out. I loved doing exactly what I was doing. I certainly don’t ever remember being made to by my parents. We were paid too.

My next jobs were on tractors, combines and windrowers. One time I drove 4 mailboxes down the lane to buck hay with my buddy in a pickup truck and cut cookies in the hot straw. We had the radio blaring and we were singing. She told me that day I should sing. I have never forgotten that.

It was inside a combine cab where I wrote songs in my head and sang them all day long. My cab was my private haven where I could think, sing, and be anything I wanted to be. It is where I learned music and the art of being alone. I dreamed and planned. I spend my days so similarly now. (Though many years in between consisted of throngs of people in my life constantly)

Those years always included the summer a crew. (I was always the youngest) eating pizza under a grove of trees, cheeseburgers and pop on the tailgate, the café, the store for iced tea in the can. The town picnic and my Grandpas garden. The shade of the filbert trees.
Being with my Aunt at the fire station and watching the fields burn at the end of harvest. I loved burning time. The smells of summer grass are still my favorite. I don’t remember those songs now but I remember singing at the top of my lungs because no one could hear me.

Fireworks, forts, picking cherries, riding mower, wiffleball, Bigfoot and Wimbledon were a big deal at home. Mommas grasshopper pie and huge lunches she made. 10 pm dinners, getting tp’d by the crew and playing tennis late into the night. The cool of our house and the beauty we could see overlooking the valley below. Thunderstorms and Tropicana rose bushes and Sunday church.

When our farming days were over I still farmed. I worked for a great guy and I loved the crews and the fun we had. I still sang songs and watched the sun set after a long hot day. Stayed up really late after work and catfished with my friends. But nothing will ever compare to our farm days. Those summer days were the best of my life. Every summer seemed like a lifetime then.

My memory has not failed me about the best of times. The land is no longer ours, buildings including that warehouse have been torn down and so many people have died who were a part of my life then. Little remains in plain sight. One smell of a warm summer night, and one quick drive and I am back there in my mind. A little girl free as a bird on beautiful farm land with my wonderful family.

I just finished a song I had started awhile ago. I had the chorus for a long time but could never figure the verses until I thought of my summertime. It’s called Legacy. I am thrilled with it. It weaves times, places and people that are now gone with those who are still here. It's about what has been given to me - the love I have known. It is the greatest and it remains.
(June below)

June 2010 ~
It is amazing how long it’s been since I have had words to share. Thankfully songs have come quite regularly despite this wretched spring weather we are having.

I am always thankful when my songs get written regardless of mood, season or life rising up to take hold. I actually need my songs like a wick needs a flame.

I was talking with a friend the other day. She had cancer awhile ago and is a survivor. She said something that summed up my thoughts lately. She told me that she has heard many times how the grass seems greener and the sky is bluer when you have cancer. And when you are going through chemo you see the whole world through rose colored glasses for the first time.

She then said that is a bunch of crap. It was awful and she hated every minute of it. The grass wasn’t greener and she didn’t feel strong and the world was not coming alive. It was horrible. I loved her honesty!

I too have heard these kind of statements many times. And for many people I am sure that is their story. Good endings are always nice so to each their own. Good for them if the world became vibrant. Sadly it was cancer that it took to get them their but my experience is limited and I have never had a life threatening illness so here is where I let everyone do whatever they need to do. But I am still weary of dumb ass words as a blanket for all to cuddle under. And this is my blog so here goes.

Now I am one who believes there are times when you go through terrible circumstances and you are brought down to the bare minimum of your life. Your life feels threadbare. Your kid dies, you get cancer, you lose your house. And with that often comes a greater awareness of all things. Everything seems significant. And often compassion rises like bread.

People driving like idiots just doesn’t matter anymore. Waiting in line… who cares. An old lady digging for change in her purse instead of using a debit card - doesn’t phase you nor does someone with a headache or a naughty child. You just live in the deeper stuff that is life and death and you are thankful for everything. And a new world does come alive and perhaps the grass seems greener.

The times when thankfulness for a mere cup of coffee and a listening ear is like gold. Or the remembrances of those gone get you through the days. Or you fight like hell to overcome what has come your way.

I have been in a state of plenty and a state of my own threadbare and those times were pretty amazing. I got very creative. Life changed for me. But also could write 500 blogs about the good times in my life when life was/is great and I LOVED it.

Maybe a better way of conveying what is your own revelation. Your own story and where it takes you in your heart. Whether good or bad, life or death it's your journey.

However you don’t need heartache to laugh and live and love. The book Eat, Pray, Love probably never would have happened if the author knew love and allowed herself to live all the years prior. I don’t need to go to Italy, India and God knows where else to engage in gluttony, sex, and contemplation just to find myself.
And yet the world at large who yaps about this whole Eat, Pray, Love acts as if it is a revelation to eat good food, pray and find love.
Shoot I have lived that way my whole life maybe I should write a book! I could call it 'Life' - Sorry to those of you who were enlightened.

I have always loved deeply, hurt deeply and thought of everything more than I should. I truly enjoy most people and want to know them and love them. I have known success and failure about equally in love, life and the pursuit of all things great. Simple things make me very content. I have always worked hard and have known loss until you think you will die from it.

But it never took sickness or death to make me love or care about people. I have always loved my family, friends and people in general were always fascinating to me. I wanted to show them love without it being my last days on earth, or theirs. But certainly I would admit once a loved one is sick and/or dies you surely have opportunity to feel and love from a very different place. Life as you know it doesn’t carry the weight it once did. The memory of them does.

A couple of weeks ago someone who meant something to me died. I didn’t know him. I knew not his family or where he was raised or what he thought about during the day. I didn’t know “him” I knew what he gave. I knew very well one thing he brought to the world around him and that was his music. I loved every bit of his music and listened and watched him play for years.
Many different styles…. he literally could play anything. He played in my backyard on more than one occasion. I played my songs with his group a few times and he backed me, being humble as he was, since he was an incredible musician. We ate together a few times and yet we shared only a small portion of life.

I will miss him because of what he brought and his personality. And it will be hard to see his band play like I have for the last 11 years without him there. It was a short 3 months from finding out he was sick to dying.

But I don’t feel like running to my friends and family and telling them I love them just because a friend died. I hear that so much. Especially when someone dies suddenly. When someone dies young and suddenly then it’s doubly so about EVERYTHING. People react to the shock with stupid words like “Life is short” or “Don’t take life for granted” “ Hug your kids and tell them you love them”

Maybe I am getting cranky but that irritates me so much I must hold my response the times when people turn to such idiocy.

If it takes someone dying for you to get the concept then you are missing life entirely. And why are you telling everyone else to do something you never could do? Like Eat Pray Love….she didn’t live life in the most simplest truths so you go on a flippin life journey to eat pray and love. Ridiculous. I could have made her millions years ago…and yes millions since it is now a movie.

But I wouldn’t stuff myself, have sex with a stranger and pray to a picture of a guru and certainly not in a different country for cryin out loud, just to experience what life offers everyone. Guess it worked for her. I will hand it to her though, she made a change from miserable to happy. There is something in that. I will never respect miserable when you have a choice in life.

I have always wondered where is the story of the person who didn’t jump in bed with a stranger and didn’t eat everything in site and didn’t give into every whim they ever had? But that is another blog altogether!

All of the sudden someone gets sick or dies or you experience heartache and you have to write songs, write a book, go on a journey, tell your family you love them and hug a kid? My motivation is never that calculated. Yes perspective can change and you might eat live life very differently. You might become enlightened and that's all well and good.

You might let go of things that bugged you, reach out to God or call a loved one for comfort but living is something we should all do without the threat of death looming over our heads. How have you missed knowing that all of your life?

Reminds me of the fear based tactics about how you will go to hell so accept Jesus NOW…!! Why would I want to know someone on those terms? Like someone with a gun wanting a kiss and if you give them one then they won’t kill you…..that’s not relationship. That's not love. That's reaction under threat.

We should love deeply because we can not because people might die tomorrow. I wrote in my journal a few months ago when all was well we should all live like we got cancer a week ago. Morbid perhaps. Even a blog about death may be considered so but it is my only defense to the clichés I have heard this past month.

Given the fact that I am cranky, partly due to incessant rain when I want to be outside, I think I have a valid point.

First of all don’t tell me what to do. Everyone is different in their own response to life, happiness and heartache. Secondly I don’t need crisis to live a meaningful life although it has aided me at times. And thirdly if you need someone to tell you to love then maybe you should re-think how you are living.

My belief is the same with songs. I have a lot of sad songs. It’s just the way they come out. I write about everything. Good times, bad times, other people, things I see, people who walk by my house, God, family, friends, the world and my own feelings too. But often sad stuff comes out. But just as I don’t need to be sick to enjoy the green grass and beauty of this world I also don’t need something bad to happen to write a song.

My songs are everyday, all day long. It is what plays when I am sleeping or in front of a crowd. It is the book I can’t put down and the story without an end. It's what plays in someone's car. I walk around with these songs every day of my life. I am incredibly thankful knowing full well it is a gift from God. And He knows me well. I write when life moves me which is nearly everyday.

Not long ago I wrote a song about someone I don’t know but they faced tragedy and a song came flying out of me. It was my truest response. But I didn’t call this person or send them the song saying this is YOUR story you have to listen. I don’t force my songs on you and make you listen I let you make it your own.

Maybe because it’s Memorial Day when I am writing this and maybe it’s something entirely different but I hope people will stop needing crisis to fully live.

I hope people will stop cramming their newfound epiphanies down the throats of tongue tamed people. I hope they stop the busy whirlwind of their life long enough to know their heart.

I really hope people who haven’t seen me for 30 or 40 years don’t praise me at my funeral and bring flowers to my grave. Don’t use me dying as your excuse for some tragic moment so you can in turn tell everyone else how to love even though you didn't. I don't remember my loved ones who have passed more because it's Memorial Day, they are with me every hour of every day but I am pausing today to remember even more.

My biggest hope lately is for people to love without being told.
(April below)

April 2010 ~
There has been time to think, read and write songs as the weather has put off my usual projects for this time of year. I have nothing ready for my garden and any outside work is waiting until these winter like days pass. I have written songs and worked on many projects that feed my brain.

We went on a nice getaway this past weekend. I realized long before our time away that society has gotten accustomed to noise. Long gone are the days of quiet lunches in most places and to even consider a place for a quiet romantic dinner is quite an undertaking. But it can be done.

Noise has become common everywhere food is served. Large screen TV’s have replaced good music and dancing.
It seems like many people are not comfortable being quiet and certainly not comfortable at all with idle time. Phones, texts, loud music, constant motion is all a huge task for someone like me who hates chaos and loud disruptions.

We are so quick to bring information into our minds and we are also very quick to judge by like, dislike, hate, love.
Our view is a limited perspective to say the least. We base our opinions within seconds in this ‘now’ society.
Even with people we know we form opinions based on only our experiences with them.

For as long as I can remember one of my best friends in the world of 30+ years has always had dogs. Not just pets but family to her. They live, eat, sleep and play together. She's good with them and she loves them dearly. The thing about most of her dogs is they don’t like strangers very much. Most of them bark, growl, jump and at times give threatening looks which can make me very uncomfortable. So to her I don't like dogs. She will tell anyone that I don’t. But I have a list of dogs I like and their owners will say I like dogs. So it’s all about perception. Though my friend knows me very well and we love eachother dearly she has only seen me around her dogs. Thus her opinion. It all comes down to breeds and behavior.

I have cuddled, dressed, walked, watched movies with and slept beside dogs. I have had dogs at my workplace and loved them. I have lived with a dog, played with them, loved them, had them on my bed. They were all kind dogs who liked me.

I have also been chased, bitten, cornered against a fence, knocked down and threatened by many different dogs over the years. I knew none of them. My lawn has been used as a dumping ground, my flowers dug and many snotty, slobbery effects left all over me to deal with. I have listened to neighbor dogs bark for hours a day and I have been jumped at by dogs in cars while walking through parking lots. So those dogs ? NO I don’t like them…. why would I?

But yet it remains this supposed fact that I don’t like dogs. When the reality is I don’t like threatening, rude, loud dogs who do all the things I hate. I hate being scared and I don’t like being mauled or barked at. I enjoy my hearing - I need it to make music.

So perspective is a huge thing. Which leads me to the point that most of our likes and dislikes, hate and love are based on limited knowledge. Even to the point of a 3 minute clip of someone’s talent. Just because I don't like certain styles of music doesn't mean they aren't really good at what they do.

We say we love a person because of their performance of playing a character. “Hating” someone on American Idol is because you don’t like their singing or swagger. Loving or hating a webcast, a video, painting or a book is a portion of that person -yet we continue to judge a person by what they do.

I know this is all basic but yet people still judge on their limited experience or exposure or simply through their eyes. We now live in the days of being judged any day, every day for seconds of a song listened to over crappy computer speakers and it can make or break you. You used to need talent and money. Now you need neither though there is plenty of both to go around.

Of course we will love something we agree with. Of course we will hate something we don’t like. It’s simple. Isn’t that where we get perspective? How the experience affects us and how we work through it. We have to push it through our own grids because that’s all we have. Our own tastes whether music, dogs, art or acting, no one likes all of it.

And in order to get along with others we need to know their perspective which we seldom have time for because we are too busy staying busy and distracted by noise. There is a time and a place for loud music and there is a time for loud barking dogs. Neither work when I am trying to spend time with someone I love.

So just to be clear - I like kind people, good music and kind dogs who like me. It’s all perspective.
(March below)

March 2010 ~
I am another year older. It happened days ago and maybe it's spring or maybe it’s the excess of words in my private journals that has left me with nothing to say for awhile.

The weather has been more than beautiful where I live. I am distracted by early sunshine. The scent of spring is one of my favorite things.
I have sat under our plum tree with blossoms falling all around me concocting songs. I have wanted little else regarding my music. A long list of things I am doing instead of music has brought such contentment.

I used to listen to people declare what it is like when finally reaching a certain age. I never related because our lives were about as different as concrete and garden dirt. The only thread of similarity was the fact that we were female.
The years of listening to people who were older proved not that they were necessarily wiser just a different age. I always hated the statements from people whose lives I would never want said “you’ll learn someday” or “you’re still young just wait.” If I live to 80 years old I would never want to live their story. On the flip side the women I admire, like my mother, I beg wisdom from.

These are some of the reasons I have been told why women find this supposed freedom of sorts and why it's so great when they reach my age:
A) Kids are raised now it’s about me
B) Divorce
C) Wanted to get back to the career I put on hold
D) Never did what I wanted to do or never lived my dreams
E) All of the above

Since none of these applied to me I gave up on the idea of “coming into wisdom” that this lovely decade is supposed to bring. I dreaded getting older because I kept slowing down which I loathed. I have realized it’s not about your life choices as much as it is you simply have lived long enough to change.

My tastes in music, food, rest and fun have changed dramatically. My perspective on so many issues leaves me unrecognizable at times. And yet I am the exact same person on so many levels. I now believe I know all I need to on certain subjects. I don’t need someone to tell me what is correct or expected. My belief is enough.

I no longer believe things simply because some study has been done. I don’t believe everything I read and I no longer trust every word I hear spoken. I no longer think someone else is smarter than I am unless they truly are. I no longer have anything to prove or strive for and sometimes age does not equal wisdom.

I at times need to put down the 2x4 I want to swing against the heads of people who still tell me their way is the only way. I am still learning. Patience and self control are things that often escape me. I want to be a peacemaker and stop being a peacekeeper.


Lately I have thought of this scenario: It is like many years being told I had to drive only on roads that included railroad crossings with red flashing lights, dinging bells and arms that would go down to keep me from getting hit by a train. A safe existence made just for women. I listened to stories about their “railroad” experiences. The color of the lights, the details of the rails and what kinds of trains that ran on them. I was offered books about it all trying to grant me understanding because I was not yet their age. (Although most of them were miserable so why would I want to attain this grand wisdom?)

I never did get it because I was traveling all the backroads that had no crossing arms and seldom a flashing light. I never read the books they gave me because I was riding the trains and traveled to great places.
But every time I would try to talk about my experience these people would not listen.

I then was told to sit and listen to these stories from people who have never been on a train and never drove a backroad. (end of scenario)

This scenario was valid to me for many years. I lived my dreams, tasted bitter failure and the sweetness of success. I traveled and made music. I knew my family well and spent time with people constantly. I was confortable running my own business and spending time alone.
And yet this nagging sense would sometimes creep into my thoughts saying it will be better by the time I am “this” age because everybody says so.

Well I am here. I have reached this supposed age of freedom and some women even say they are ready to kick some ass when they reach this decade. I am three years into it and I am not in that place. I am tired and feel much older than I am. My body is defying me and I no longer have the energy to do the things I once did. I get tired easily and have less patience with certain things. I have very few regrets because I lived the life I wanted to and learned every bit of what was offered. That is my life experience. My wisdom.

Misery knows no age. Wisdom comes with age but also experience. Perspective comes often through living long enough to see everything around you change.

Experience is a great teacher.
I now avoid people's created chaos and drama like the plague. I have ridded my life of toxic friendships. I am getting more comfortable disagreeing with people but don't always have the strong need to tell them about it. Although sometimes I am more vocal than I have ever been. I no longer grab a big bucket and let others fill it with crap while I hold onto it.

I have no energy to try and make people feel better - I know my love for them is enough.

I am done altering my music to please everyone else. I no longer have big goals I have to attain but instead live every day like it’s my last. My religious beliefs have boiled down to 1 thing - love.

Maybe this is what the well meaning people meant. Maybe they simply reached a point of change and figured it was their age that was the catalyst.

Maybe they are right and it’s true but our life stories are so very different. They could have learned many things from me if they had listened like I had to them. We are all individuals and no one has the same story.

So whether it is age or just wisdom at any age, I am so incredibly thankful for my life and all that has brought me here.
I am not ready to start over or kick ass or complete goals I never got around to.
But I am ready to hold onto all I have learned at every age.

Every year - every experience - every dream - every job - every person in our lives - every heartache - every joy all of it has brought me here.

It's the stuff songs are made of...
(January below)

January 2010 ~
I was sitting with tea just inside the cabin with the door fully open enjoying the break in the rain. There were two days left of 2009 and of course I was doing some reflecting on the year that was almost over.

I was astounded by the death of many in 2009. What they meant to me and why. There are so many people I miss. Time has ran by me at times. I thought about the changes in our country and also the changes in my life. I have said this many times - it’s not about getting older it’s about the changes you go through that makes age a friend or foe. People who say it’s just a number are crazy! If it was just a number then I would feel exactly how I used to feel when I was younger and be with all the people who are now gone.

Time has been a pretty good friend. A roaring train of sorts but I have learned to carve out blocks of time to do what I desire to do. It is not as easy as you think. I always thought more free time would bring a desired outcome from the exploding beginnings within me. I then got the allotted time but every other thing in my life has changed. Still not sure how I feel about the trade off. There really is a catch sometimes.

So even though I have had time to do what I wish, it’s never easy finally getting to your dreams. They often are much more exciting in your head. I often think of the outcome and forget the process. The feelings and moods of a project not the hardships along the way.

For years I kept mental notes on the grand plans I wanted to accomplish. I have attempted almost every one of them with much success in many.

Some wishes held me back because it seemed impossible or tedious. A few years ago my long held goal of hiking to a fire lookout came to pass. I wished for years to spend time being in the middle of pure silence and beautiful snow. It was hard to get a reservation and there was no one I wanted to venture with so I waited.

Finally I plan a New Years Eve/day plan with my newish husband. I not only got the reservation but had the perfect plan complete with a great man. We were ready with snowshoes and a light pack for this romantic trip. We headed to the mountains with gorgeous snow and sunshine.

But even after checking the weather forecast the snow was very deep and we headed straight into a big snow storm.

We got within a mile of the cabin and needed to turn back. And though it was a memorable adventure it was NOTHING like I had hoped. And what held me back all of those years was not even a factor. That plan was far more exciting left inside my head of wishes but I'm so glad I tried.

I find it almost crazy when people say they have no idea what their dreams are. Somewhere along the way they made a plan. Their hearts desires, goals, dreams, what they do for fun. The response is the same with everyone it seems. “I have no idea what my wishes are” “When is there ever time for that!” That is a big fat excuse! Everyone makes choices along the way. But living your dreams is not all it’s cracked up to be. There is great safety in not trying since there is no failure or disappointment in fulfilling them.

This New Year as everyone is making resolutions and promises I am simply observing. I don’t make New Year promises. I just don’t think that way. But I know there are some things I want to change. I don’t want to talk about projects I want to live them.

I am convinced we think there are obstacles when really there aren’t any. Or the obstacles can be overcome. We think we don’t have time, not enough money, I’m tired, no one to help me, health reasons, the kids, the spouse. But those things have nothing to do with living your dreams or goals. The obstacles are not holding you back - you are.

I used to think not having to work so hard would make me happier. It’s actually way harder to not have a scheduled day where you go to the same place everyday and make money. I was often happier when I worked 50 hours a week because it was accomplished and I was paid. So be careful what you wish for.

I have always made time for what I love to do. When I worked 3 jobs at one time I still made music. When I lived with friends I made music in the closet. I didn’t need a studio. I made music on my $100 guitar. My songs on a $6000 guitar would sound the same. I have always added to what I am already doing. The time from my first written song until it was recorded was 16 years. When the time came I was ready for the next. Glad I didn’t spend 16 years wishing for recording. I simply wrote songs and sang them because I enjoyed it.

On the flip side a few years into full time music making, I wished for a band to record with. I not only got bands I had a great downtown studio to make music in but the recording process about killed me. It's never what you think.

Here are my thoughts as 2010 is out of the gate.

I think people need a lot less direction seeking and more gumption.

Less demand for causes and more action. (The term awareness - people speak of it like its gold. What does awareness bring? I’m sure it brings some good but what does being aware really accomplish?)
Basically it's a nice way of saying you're doing something when you really aren't.
Posting something to your facebook page doesn't help anyone so please stop hounding people about "your" awareness.

Less permission seeking and more confidence.

Some people need less boldness as not everyone is walking your path.

Fewer excuses. Excuses are a form of being afraid.
What if’s are often dreams put on hold.

We don’t need the best of everything we need skill.

We don’t need more time we need more creativity.
We don't need more money we need smart ways of keeping what we have.

We don’t need the smartest opinion we need confidence in our own opinions.

We don’t need a different job or a different life we need passion and courage.
We don't need to fight for religous freedom because no one can take away your beliefs or relationship with God.

And most of all we need to love people. Yes everyone.

Wishing you a wonderful 2010 - do what you were born to do!
(Dec. below)

December 2009 ~
Another year is quickly approaching. It’s cold outside where I live.
Any time the temp is in the teens that is very cold. It’s the perfect time for sitting with coffee and looking at the lights on our tree. I am looking forward to the season this year.

I decided to get out my childhood ornaments but for memories sake not for my tree. So I put them in my grandmas wooden butter bowl for display and remembered many Christmases.

Childhood is the only time of first impressions and first experiences.
Everything after that is either a wish to return, to forget or remember.

My family, our traditions and memories are like yesterday to me. Snow, fires, food, baking with Momma, going to the farm with Daddy, the decorated tree in my room, the lights and candles. The anticipation of snow and playing with my brother. And yes presents. To this day early mornings and the smell of candles lighting make me think of holidays.

We as any family had/have traditions but what strikes me most is the fact that giving and loving had nothing to do with a holiday. I loved being with my family and looked forward to celebrating but we didn’t do certain things simply for the sake of holidays.

For years my mom and dad allowed their home to be a place for everyone to enjoy. They gave a home, food, jobs, money. We sponsored children in Indonesia, gave to the local church and people in need. It was just part of our life.

Although during the holidays I do have vivid memories of the packed boxes for food drives and the candlelight Christmas Eve services, and getting up early for cooking. Those are definitely memories I hope to never forget!

It’s always better to give than receive but some givers have no clue how to receive which is sad. You need both to keep the wheel turning. I have given my home, my food, jobs, money, time and most of all love throughout my life as a way of life not for a cause. Not because I am something great but because it simply is the life I always knew. We always had more than enough but never forgot that many people have nothing.

It’s funny how some of the very people who benefited from food boxes or a home opened to them in their life look down on anything that is not global, a mission, or a cause. Just to live as my family always has needs a title and a protest or parade. Those are the people I struggle with the most.

How quickly they forget from where they have come.

Many take on the idea that bigger is better. Living in a small town near your family and giving to those in need whether across the world or across the street? Or moving to a big city to work and join causes?
Or going abroad on lifelong mission trips?
We are all important no matter where we live and though I don’t need a cause or a holiday to give to people, it certainly is a good time to share.

I hope I never forget the suffering children and people of the world but I also hope I never forget neighborhood kids laughing or the crack babies crying from hunger on the other end of town. Or the joys of my neice and nephew every day of the year.

There are such trendy ways to give now. Online with celebrities, or buying a certain color.

Do you really need a cause to be a person who brings change?

I always enjoy knowing people that simply are who they are without bringing the trendy cause into every conversation or reminding everyone what they deem as important. I have known people who are so incredible who give at home and who go abroad and some who do both. It's really just a lifestyle no matter where you are on any given day.

I have known a few people along the way that assume giving to strangers and living in third world countries is far more superior than staying home.
Yet where would those same people be today without someone at “home” giving to them? Baffling.

I’m not a trendy giver and I don’t need to join a cause to remember those in need all over the world but I do have a few I hold dear.

You actually have to work in order to have money to give. I have always worked and funded any "mission" I have ever been involved with. Christmastime or in August you either care about people's needs or you don’t. Some think globally while some think next door. We desperately need both.

I was fortunate enough to not need a cause in order to give. Everything I learned was from my home. There was simply one cause. People. especially family.

Though I love to think back to Christmas at home I really remember two things. Love and giving. Everything after that is the icing on the cake, especially my momma’s lemon cake. Or her famous Christmas cookies mmmm.

Peace on earth and goodwill to all people. Merry Christmas