Dixie Peach

Pull Up Stakes. Come Follow Me.

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 30 Mar 2011 20:39:00 +0000

Oh let's not fool ourselves any longer. I made promises but I'm not going to keep them. I've neglected this blog something terrible. To the point where I think it's pretty well jinxed.

So I'm making a whole new start. I've started a whole new blog.

Top Floor Corner

C'mon over. Else I'll miss you awful bad.

Fun Can Be Good For You

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Mon, 03 Jan 2011 20:33:00 +0000

Let's do a little obligatory wrapping up of loose ends from last year. All that planned Christmas knitting? None of it finished. Hated the cowl I was knitting for B's aunt. I may start it again with a different pattern. The advent calendar wrap? Two days of it completed! Not even two days. More like 1.75 days. But I did download the whole pattern and it's sitting on my Kindle (Yay! Knitting patterns can be kept on my Kindle!). My biggest reason for not finishing that one is that I'm not overly thrilled with the yarn I selected. That's the biggest problem with picking a yarn before you've actually see the pattern - you can pick the wrong stuff. Love the yarn though so I'm now searching for a different pattern for a wrap that doesn't need a more delicate yarn to show off its stuff. With what I have I think I'll do a wrap in a feather-and-fan pattern. As for the last planned Christmas knitting, the socks for B's uncle are about 3/4 finished. I have another week before he comes back into town for a chemo treatment and by then they'll be done.

I wasn't anti-Christmas this year but I lacked the regular enthusiasm for it that I normally have. I listened to very little Christmas music. Watched some Christmas movies but ended up having to turn off It's a Wonderful Life before George realized the world couldn't have done without him and never got back to watching it. I did manage to introduce B to the Christmas specials I loved as a child. Best part? Watching Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer and when I asked him how he liked it, B replied "Santa's sort of an asshole in this one, isn't he?". During the whole run-up to Christmas the weather was lousy - either rainy or snowy for weeks on end - so I ended up getting to the Christmas market only twice. Quite a difference compared to the normally 20-25 times I'd go. And I think that's what was killing my enthusiasm for the holidays. I wasn't in my regular routine and it was dampening the whole mood. I was even sick of my decorations before the actual day hit. But Christmas itself was very nice. Christmas Eve was spent with B and my MIL and on Christmas Day B's aunt and uncle joined us. B's uncle was even feeling better during his break from chemotherapy and for the first time in months he had a good appetite so while all the trappings of Christmas weren't revving me up this year, the things that really mattered were there and it was the part I loved best.

Now it's the new year and true to form I will not be making any resolutions. I find no need in imposing on myself goals that, while perhaps good for me, will not be enjoyable to reach and so more likely not to be reached. I have no need to start my year with a predestined sense of failure. Instead I want to set for myself some things to aim for that will make me happier and better all around and will not be painful. Here are some things that I want to incorporate in my life in 2011:

1. Read more non-fiction books. More biographies and books on science, history, different cultures, whatever. I read a lot of fiction and while I enjoy reading about worlds an author creates for me I also want to read more about the world as it is and the history of the world I'm in. I'm already making good on this goal. Right now the audiobook I'm listening to is Cleopatra: A Life by Stacy Schiff. The whole ancient Egypt/Greece/Rome thing has never particularly interested me but this is a biography I'm enjoying. I think Cleopatra is more interesting as she was than as she's been depicted over the past 2000+ years. I'm also reading This Republic of Suffering by Drew Gilpin Faust. It's a book about how the US Civil War changed the US's view of death and its rituals. I think it's a good book but honestly, one would have love beyond-the-normal Civil War history and have a bit of a fascination with death for it be enjoyable. And if that's not gruesome enough I'm about halfway finished with reading The Suspicions of Mr. Whicher by Kate Summerscale which, at its essence, is a book about the 1860 murder of an English three-year-old boy. It's a little more than that really. Solving the murder is just one part of it. The book also deals with the development of the detectives and how they became more popular in literature. I have a few ideas of what non-fiction works I next want to read but I'll save them for when I'm actually reading them.

2. I live on the 5th floor of my building. Using the stairs instead of the elevator is something that anyone wanting to incorporate more exercise in their daily routine would do but honestly, I'm too lazy for that. Too lazy, 100 steps between up to the 5th floor, and when I'm going up I'm generally carrying 5-10 pounds of stuff with me. But I usually empty handed when I'm going out so while I don't want to climb up to my flat, I could take the stairs down when I leave. Maybe the exercise I'd get from it isn't as good as it would be going up but it would be helpful for my flexibility and with improving my balance and since I have a terrible sense of balance I can use all the help I can give myself.

3. Finishing some knitting projects that don't involve footwear. I have too many half-finished shawls and wraps.

4. Learn some new knitting skills. And that means either toe-up socks or two color knitting that's not mosaic knitting. Sigh This is supposed to be fun, right?

5. Find new music as often as I can. That will definitely be fun. Maybe it'll make up for the frustration I'll feel when I'm trying to juggle multiple spools of yarn during color knitting.

6. Eat more vegetables. I think I can do this easier if I eat them at breakfast. I'm much more likely to eat a raw bell pepper or cucumber if I do it first thing.

Hope your new year gets filled with goals that you have fun reaching.

Comes Out Even in the End

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Tue, 30 Nov 2010 22:16:00 +0000

Stuff I've accomplished in the past four days:

1. Laundry is caught up except for one load of towels. I'd wash them but I'm out of room on the clothesline. I've been high on fabric softener all day.

2. Printed first day's pattern for the Advent scarf and have resisted starting it. I feel like a magpie that's spotted something shiny.

3. Christmas decorations are all up except for the tree. I save that for third Advent Sunday. I get all sentimental about my Christmas decorations but some of them really need to be retired. Some are shabby looking and some simply make me think "What in the world compelled me to buy that?

4. All the Christmas shopping for my friends and family in the US is complete. When I first moved to Germany this was an especially stressful task. First, I was limited to what I could buy because I had to consider how breakable the item was, how heavy and how easy it would be to pack for international mailing. After purchasing and packing I'd then haul it to the post office and proceed to pay international postage that was more than the sum of the items in the box. Then began the tense waiting until the box arrived. I finally stopped that shit when I had a box never arrive - a box that between the contents and the postage set me back a good $350. Now I shop online and have stuff sent directly to my family from merchants on that side of the world. I don't pay as much postage so they get nicer gifts and I can spend my run up to the holidays not having a stroke over a package that hasn't arrived yet.

5. Pitched a complete fit at my husband. Yelled at him for stuff that wasn't his fault. Felt so awful about it later that I cried my eyes out and offered to let him take away Bastian the iPod for a week.

6. Figured out that Bastian the iPod will fit in the speakers originally purchased for Fletcher the iPod if I would merely take out the adapter piece. I say that I deserve to take the money that I saved by not buying new speakers and sink it into downloading more music as a reward for discovering what should have been obvious to me.

Stuff still not completed even though I've had the past four days to do it:

1. Socks for B's uncle still aren't finished. In fact I've barely worked on them at all. I still have to do another set of decreases before I can even call the gusset finished. I still have a lot of inches of foot left to knit before I can call it finished. And a whole second sock to do.

2. Old TV guides and catalogs still not taken to recycling bin. I'm considering building a summer home from them.

3. Haven't taken the time to walk over to my MIL's and pick up the Christmas treat B's aunt got for us. I asked what it was and B said "It's a Spieldose". I said "That's a music box, right?" and B, in all seriousness, replied "No. It's a box that plays music". Thanks for the clarification, hon!

4. Need to drag myself to the dentist to make an appointment to have a crown put in and then go to the doctor's office to have blood taken. Bring on some more pre-holiday anxiety, if you please.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to work on a sock.

25%

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 26 Nov 2010 23:52:00 +0000

That's how much of the socks I'm knitting are finished. I always consider that when I turn the heel of a sock - in other words make it so that the part of the sock I'm knitting changes from being vertical to being horizontal - that I'm halfway finished and since it's a pair that translates to a 25% finished project. Really I'm a little more past the halfway point. I've turned the heel and have picked up the heel stitches - in other words attached the back of the heel to the rest of the sock - and am now knitting the gusset decreases - tapering the sock down from being the wide part that goes around your heel to the more slender part that goes around your foot.

By the time this is over you may become quite knowledgeable about the different parts of sock knitting. And if you don't happen to knit socks or even knit at all I can't imagine a more pointless thing to know.

I'll see if I can get a couple pictures of my progress tomorrow.

Anyone Got a Spare Week?

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 24 Nov 2010 21:25:00 +0000

I'm a bit self-centered. I suppose we're all a bit self-centered but my case of narcissistic behavior tends to crop up at times that make me look like an exceptional shit.

And here's today's example:

B's uncle, Gerald, has colon cancer. He was diagnosed in September and it's pretty bad. It's spread, the tumors can't be removed and he's undergoing chemotherapy every couple weeks in an effort to extend his life at least some. It's awful to see how cancer has ravaged him and all the while he's trying to be as upbeat as he can. Gerald truly is a calm, thoughtful man. He loves his books, he loves to listen to opera and symphonies and he likes his quiet life. So one would think that those of us who care about him would put him first, right?

I've failed that test.

Remember how a couple weeks ago I mentioned that I'm trying to knit a cowl for Gabi for Christmas? I've made some headway on it but I changed the pattern and as the cowl grows I can see it's likely going to be too...I dunno...ribby...to be a good cowl. It's a basketweave pattern that tends to draw in the fabric. It's hard to stay interested in a project that's probably not going to be completed so I've put it aside. In the meantime I've joined a knit-along group to make an advent calendar scarf. Instead of each day opening each little door of an advent calendar I will instead get a piece of the pattern for a lace scarf and by Christmas morning I should have a completed scarf. Actually what I will have is a lump of knitting that resembles a pile of limp noodles until I take the time to block it but that's beside the point. The point of the project is to knit the same thing each day that knitters all around the world are knitting, share our experience with it and take time out during the busy holiday season to be restful and still and creative. I figure that to keep up with the project it'll take me somewhere between two and three hours of knitting each day, which is pushing it for me finding free time.

I decided that I really want to work on this advent scarf and then search for a different lace cowl for Gabi and do it for her birthday in January. So that I'd be ready for the first part of the pattern to be given on December 1st I've found the proper needles in my gawdawful nest of circular needles, bought new yarn and have been giving myself a bit of a pep talk each day to convince myself that I can really get this project done by Christmas. I normally have to take long breaks during lace projects because of the frustration that can go along with a lace project. This time I want to plow through it without a pause.

Here's where my character flaw comes in.

Back on the day Gabi was dropping hints about me knitting a cowl for her she also thought that a pair of hand knit socks was just what Gerald needed. I agreed that he could definitely benefit from a pair, what with him losing weight like mad and him being unable to keep himself warm, and while I didn't promise anything, I decided that I'd knit him a pair. A few days later I remembered that I had a pair of socks already finished that should fit him (and Darling Mollie, we maybe need to discuss how I gave away your socks before I could make them to you). Gerald got the socks, they fit, he loves them and I understand he has trouble letting them go long enough for them to be washed.

Tonight Gabi called and again raved about how Gerald loves the socks I knit. They're just the right weight, they're warm, they're comfortable and so on. I love that Gerald loves his socks. It makes me happy that he's got something going right for him during these weeks of a shitload of things going wrong. And if I'd been even sort of perceptive I'd have known that he'd want another pair of socks and I'd have already started them.

I'm not that perceptive.

Gabi has begged for another pair of socks for Gerald. And there's no question that I'll knit them for him. But December 1st - the date my knit along starts - is a week away and under normal circumstances I can only get one sock knit in one week. The selfish side of me is hollering loudly that it's not fair that I have to crank out a pair of socks before I can finally knit something for me. The sane side of me is saying "Shut up. Do you have cancer? No? Then shut up. Just be sweet for someone who's suffering".

If I don't have the socks finished by December 1st I have a few choices. A. I can knit both the socks and each day's piece of the scarf all at the same time and likely become a snarling bitch or B. I can finish the socks and then start the scarf late and perhaps knit two days worth of pattern pieces each day until I'm caught up or C. skip days of the scarf pattern...it's supposed to be possible that a day's pattern can be easily left out or D. knit like a house a-fire and get these socks finished by December 1st.

I think option D has potential. The socks are simple - it's just straight stockinette stitch. No cables, no lace, no textured pattern. I can give up some spare-time activities like reading and knit every spare moment I have until they're finished. I'm a pretty slow knitter and so getting a pair of socks finished in a week will be one of the biggest knitting challenges I've given myself but maybe a good challenge is what I need.

So how about y'all cheering me on? I'll knit these socks, give y'all updates here and if I'm lagging you can give me a virtual nudge forward. Anything will help. The real advantage is that the sooner they're finished the sooner Gerald can have them because let's face it - he needs all the things he can enjoy that he can get. And I need all the lessons in putting others first that I can get.

Family History

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Mon, 15 Nov 2010 20:30:00 +0000

Four years ago I wrote about the relationship I had with my father. Today's would have been my father's 85th birthday and so I dug back in my blog archives to read it. I've done that each year since I wrote it.

In that post I wrote that I don't think of my father each day. At the time it was true. At least I believed it was true. Maybe it was only my perception at the time because now I pay attention to it more and I find that while I likely don't think of him each and every day I probably think of him most days. We'll call it 28 out of 31 days.

As I grow older I look back on the relationship I had with my dad and I find more regret creeping into the mix of feelings it brings. By nature I'm not one who dwells on regrets forever. Oh I regret plenty but I also am the sort who thinks that I can't change it now so why keep stewing over it? I've also found that over the years the regret I feel has changed. It used to be regret over not having the sort of relationship with him that I wanted. That all daughters deserve. I regretted that my dad and I weren't close. That I felt that he was disappointed in me. That I did things that disappointed him. That sort of regret would soon morph into me being angry with him. Anger that some of his disappointment in me was something he could have fixed if he'd just bothered to do it. He was the adult. He had more control that I did. If he was so worried about my grades or my lack of focus or my inability to reach goals then he sure could have stepped up and lent a little guidance. But that sort of anger is like the regret I can't fix now because it's too late. Why lose my mind over something that can't be altered now?

Now the regret I feel when I think about my dad is regret over my not taking advantage of the time I had with him. So many questions I wish I could have the answers to now. I regret not asking him more about his childhood. My dad lost his mother when he was six years old. What sort of effect does that have on a kid from rural Mississippi? Why didn't I ask him about his school years? Ask him about his extended family? I found out recently that his maternal grandmother didn't die until sometime in the 1950s when she was extremely old. There must have been stories about her my dad could have told me. Why didn't I ask him more about the 22 years he spent in the Navy? I know he had some adventures I would have loved to have heard.

Well I know why I didn't ask him these things. Because I was too shy to ask. Because I never felt close enough to my dad to feel as though asking him to tell me stories was an okay thing to do. I hate that feeling. I hate that he never felt close enough to me to volunteer to tell me about his life. I had 30 years with my dad and sometimes it feels as though he is some mysterious figure. If I wasn't there to witness it myself - if it didn't happen in my lifetime - then it's lost to me for good.

But I can't fix that now. And eventually I believe I'll be able to think back on my dad without so much regret. I've put away most of my anger and I'm making place for the regret.

Show Me Your Wares

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 10 Nov 2010 20:14:00 +0000

When I'm home in the US for a visit I find that I have very limited time to watch television and that's understandable. No one wants to fly 5,000 miles to see folks you only see every few years and then spend one's time watching TV. I do watch it though. I like HGTV and try to catch a few programs here and there. I watch the news. And if there's some special program I try to catch that as well. But what I really love to see on TV are the commercials. I'm fascinated by them.

When I first moved to Germany I liked to watch the commercials because they showed me products I'd not seen before or maybe products that I knew but have another name. It's where I learned that Dawn dishwashing liquid is called Fairy in Europe. Downy fabric softener is called Lenor. What we call a Milky Way in America is called Mars in Europe and Milky Ways in Europe are something else entirely. Vicks anything is called Wick because you definitely want it pronounced how English speakers pronounce Vs and not how German speakers pronounce Vs. It's where I learned that canned soups are usually not condensed, hard liquor is advertised on TV and it's possible that you may see a naked butt in a margarine commercial. You're liable to see a naked butt or even boobs in any sort of commercial.

After a while the commercials in Germany became passe and I tuned them out. Then I went back to the US for a visit and my interested in American TV commercials rose and with each subsequent visit my interest only continued to rise. I liked some commercials because they were simply amusing but my interest was really in what they were selling. I didn't want what they were selling but I loved seeing what there was on offer to the American consuming public. There were new products. Improved products. The same old product but with a different packaging or label. There were new stores and services to offer. I could watch American TV commercials and get a mini refresher course in American pop culture. And if I happened to be in the US near a big holiday like Thanksgiving or Christmas then I'd get a feeling of nostalgia. There's nothing like seeing a commercials for Cool Whip and Pillsbury crescent rolls to make me think of Thanksgiving.

I have an application on my computer that live streams British TV and what's the thing I like best to watch? The commercials naturally, and for the same reason I like watching them in the US. I just like seeing what they have to offer. I feel like I'm getting a glimpse into ordinary life in Britain when I see what they consume and what shops and restaurants they have and what services you can get. There are lots of products for sale in Britain that you can buy in Germany. Some of them use the exact same commercial - we just see them dubbed in German. It's funny to hear how the jingle for Calgon water softener uses the same tune as is used in Germany but the English lyrics don't fit in quite as well as they do in German. But what I find irresistible are commercials for things that to me are very British. I got such a kick out of seeing an ad for frozen mince pies. It's not something I'd see in Germany or in the US.

Christmas is coming and the commercials for the holiday have already started. I'm nearly as excited to see the ads as I am the special Christmas movies and programs. Too bad that that even the most clever commercial can't sell me their product.

Making Myself Do It

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Mon, 08 Nov 2010 20:29:00 +0000

The thing about not writing is that not writing makes it harder to write when you decide you want to get back to writing. And, as it turns out, also seems to make you construct some pretty awkward sentences.

Since I was for well over a year shunning any writing that was any longer than a Facebook status update I feel pretty out of sorts. Idea come into my head but don't seem to form themselves into coherent sentences and I'm afraid if this keeps up I may have to give up all together. Give up before I've even given myself a chance to get started good. So to that end, and if you'll kindly indulge me, I'm going to take some time over the next few weeks or so to just write simple things - stuff with the aim of getting myself into practice. It may be lists of things or maybe just a small memory of something that pops into my mind. Nothing fancy but then again fancy is a word seldom used in reference to me.

They say the best way to learn to write is to write so I'll take that advice.

Fears I'd like to conquer:

1. Riding escalators. A drunken fall down one over fifteen years ago gave me a pretty strong fear of them. It used to be that I'd avoid them at nearly any cost but doing that has become not only inconvenient but embarrassing as well. In the past six months I've gotten better and use them almost exclusively. Riding up one is no trick at all anymore but riding down? I'd like to do it without screaming internally.

2. Kitchen hazards. My husband was a professional chef before his accident. I've heard a lot of stories about what it's like to go to cooking school for a couple years, work as an apprentice cook and then graduate, work as a cook and then actually be the one who runs the whole kitchen. I've also heard lots of stories of how he's cut his hands repeatedly, burned himself and even the terrifying story of how nearly boiling oil was dumped down his leg. All these stories have convinced me that if I went to work in a professional kitchen I'd be fired within an hour. I must have overly sensitive skin on my hands because I shy away from any source of heat. Taking anything out of the oven or off the stove required that I wear the thickest oven mitts I can find. I cannot bear to fry food if my skin is in any way exposed. I wear an old glove to cover my hand while frying bacon. And chopping vegetables takes me quite a while because I'm afraid of cutting my fingers. I can't even fathom using something like an electric slicer.

3. Birds. I have a love/hate thing with birds. Birds that are outdoors, flying around doing their birdy thing are all right. And birds in cages are fine even if I feel sorry for them. The problem is when they want to interact with me. I get a little wiggy if pigeons walk too close to me. Sparrows that land on the same park bench as I'm sitting on are okay but keep your little ass on that side. And heaven forbid I be indoors when a parakeet is loose.

4. Electric drills. I can use them in a desperate situation but all I think about is the drill bit breaking off and flying into my skull. To that end I have to ask someone to come drill holes for me every time I want a picture hung.

5. Climbing ladders. I don't mind heights. What I do mind is my crap sense of balance. I've been skittish about climbing too high since I was in college and stepped backwards off a desk onto a chair that was supposed to be there and was instead there. One trip to the ER and diagnosis of a mild concussion later...

Friday Shuffle - Don't Promise What You Can't Deliver Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 05 Nov 2010 20:37:00 +0000

Once in a while I have to remind myself yet again that there's a reason why I don't knit things as gifts for others. Let me correct that. I knit virtually everything as a gift for another - I just don't knit them as a specific gift for a specific event or holiday. That's because I'm almost always doomed to either not finishing it on time or picking a project that's so irksome to knit that I'll give up in the middle of it.

B's aunt - the one that I switch from being very grateful for to her being the one I'd like to strangle - is one hell of a hint dropper. The other week when she was here visiting she gave me a wink wink, nudge nudge that she's not only like a pair of hand knit socks but she'd like a cowl. Or snood. Or wimple. Or smoke ring. Whatever you prefer to call it. One of those tube-like scarves you wear around your neck and then can pull up over your head like a hood.

Socks are easy to dole out. I tend to have a supply of hand knit socks at the ready. A cowl is different. I didn't let on like me knitting a cowl for her would be possible but after she left and after I kicked around the idea a little I thought that I'd have enough time to knit for her a simple lace cowl for Christmas. She's a pain in the ass to find a gift for anyway so this project would save me all sort of frustrating and fruitless shopping trips.

I found a simple pattern I like. I ordered the yarn - very nice, high end yarn. Even ordered new circular needles because A. I didn't have circular needles short enough for the project and B. I never know where in the hell my circular needles get off to anyway.

I've started twice now to knit this cowl and twice now I've ripped it out. It's not a difficult pattern to knit but it's one that can be easily screwed up by failing to do one increase or one decrease. And goodness knows I despise fixing an error in lace knitting. I despise it even more when I've got 132 stitches in a round to hunt through to find the error.

Finding another pattern to knit - one that's not a lace pattern - seems to be a good alternative but it's got to be one that's going to be able to use this yarn with these needles. I could go with other yarn but these needles will be a must since I really don't have any circular needles that aren't too long to accommodate a cowl that's about 22 inches in diameter. So far I'm not having any luck so the other alternative - make 22 stitch markers, stop whimpering and just knit the lace - seems more likely.

On to other things.

It's likely passe and cheesy to do an iPod shuffle on Fridays but my friend, Jane, likes it. And if I can't give Aunt Annoying her cowl for Christmas the least I can do is give Jane her Friday Shuffles. Plus y'all need to meet my new iPod, Bastian. Let's go.

She's A Beauty - The Tubes
Fallin' & Flyin' - Jeff Bridges and Colin Farrell
Affection - The Lost Boys
I Drive All Night - Roy Orbison
The Belgian Tune - Blackbeard's Tea Party
Queen Bitch - David Bowie
Mrs. Vandebilt - Paul McCartney & Wings
(What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace, Love And Understanding - Die Toten Hosen
Town Without Pity - Gene Pitney
Selfmachine - I Blame Coco

Aaaaand Here's Two

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 03 Nov 2010 20:20:00 +0000

I purposely didn't write a blog entry yesterday.

When I made the decision to write in my blog again I realized it would coincide with NaBloPoMo and I'd been an eager participant (and smug...what?...accomplisher?) up until the time I'd went on my self imposed hiatus. The itch to try it again was felt and I found myself talking myself out of it this time around.

A big reason - maybe really the only reason - I stopped writing in my blog was because it became like work to me. All day I would consider things to write about, compose paragraphs in my head that would soon be diluted by the time I actually got around to writing actual words, weigh one topic against another or - worse - find myself with nothing to write about that interested me. Writing is like work at times but it should be work that at the end of it all gives a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction and not work that gives the same feeling a burned out customer service representative gets when she's been screamed at for the 400th time about a late payment charge and OH MY GOD CAN'T YOU SEE WHAT YOU'RE DOING TO MY FAMILY WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND WHY THIS 42 CENT CHARGE IS RUINING US?!?!

I told myself that this time I'd do things in my own time. I'd write when I felt like I wanted to and if I really didn't give a shit about writing that would be fine. Challenging myself to write every day even when it becomes painful would only end up pissing me off and make me start hating to write and what would become of us then? I'd be deprived of an outlet for my thoughts, the ability to commune with others and you'd be deprived of reading about...well...the Christmas market or some other selling-fried-cinnamony-dough-snacks street festival.

So I took it upon myself to sabotage myself from the start. Break the streak before one gets started. No NaBloPoMo-ing. And no forced writing. I'm trying very hard to cut out things from my life that feel imposed if their imposition isn't going to improve things for me at all. I want to find the fun that goes along with the work.

And maybe this year you'll get pictures of fried-cinnamony-dough-snacks.

So I Came Back

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 21:40:00 +0000

This thing still work?

So after an absence of nearly a year and a half, blah blah blah blah...you know where I'm going with this. I blogged. I got tired of blogging. I stopped. I got to urge to write again. I came back. Your classic a-peach-and-her-blog story.

Life continued even though I failed to document it in words. Since the last time I wrote here a few things happened:

Right after I late wrote here, and I mean within a couple days afterward, my MIL's ~~live in mooch~~ gentleman friend, Gerd, showed his ass on my and B's tenth wedding anniversary. Obviously not literally but close. Metaphoric ass-showing is a no-no with my MIL and within a week she'd told him that he needed to find another place to live. We were elated.

Our dog, Bonnie, developed tumors around her bladder and in May we had to let her go. Putting a pet to rest continues to be one of the worst things in the world one has to eventually face. I cried until it like to broke my heart.

B and I once again became magnets for freak neighbors. The near-constant piano playing from the neighbors above us was one thing but the end was being terrorized by other neighbors. One never knew when yet another fight would break out in the hallway - complete with the smashing of beer bottles against our door. We found another flat that's bigger, more beautiful, in a better location and, curiously enough, cheaper than our old flat. We're on the top floor, I have a nice view of the city, our neighbors are nice, it's quiet here. I love it. And now that I've made that declaration in writing I've probably doomed us.

I lost about twenty pounds. I then gained back about fifteen. I'm thinking of it as recycling.

MIL got back together with Gerd late last winter. She didn't have him move back in with her but he was in her place all the time. My MIL didn't tell us for quite a while but we suspected that he was back on the scene. And as I had predicted at the time Gerd once again showed his ass and get was given the gate one final time. Really final. Changed the locks sort of final. We were elated.

I still knit. Still read a lot. Still get giddy of the idea of the Christmas market (opens on November 22nd...mark your calendars!). Still am ridiculously crazy about my husband.

The really good things never change.

The Lazy Peach's Way Out

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 29 Jul 2009 20:07:00 +0000

Facebook is killing me. I waste more time messing with virtual farms and houses and mafia crews and taking inane quizzes. Maybe it makes up for my ability to get a houseplant to live for more than six months and YoVille houses never need cleaning but at any rate the virtual upkeep of these distractions wears on my desire to write. And you know what that leads to, don't you? Bulleted lists.

So - the search for a new flat goes on. The first one I looked at was wonderful. It still needed to have the main renovations done and still I could see that it was the perfect flat for us. Big rooms, perfect location - the works. I nearly wept when the lady from the rental company said they'd put in whatever floors we wanted and they'd retile the kitchen. Wept because there's no way we can live there. This building was originally built without an elevator and so when one was put in later they had to put it up one set of eight steep steps. The portable ramps we own won't work without being very hazardous and there's no way to get to the elevator otherwise. I still can't get that flat out of my head but I've had to stop mentioning around B. He feels so guilty that he's the reason we can't move there that when I talk about how much I loved that flat it hurts his feelings. Right now I'm working on getting the right combination of location, an elevator that goes all the way to the ground floor, price, and the right amount of space. We don't really need to move (so far) so we'll just take our time and keep looking.
I got my new glasses and I have to say that I like them. I see well out of them, they're comfortable and I think they look at least halfway decent on me. B likes them as well but he's very easy to please. I'll try to do the picture thing soon.
B and I planned on going out this weekend for our 10th wedding anniversary but that's not going to work out. He's got a problem with his left heel that will keep him from being able to wear a shoe or put any weight on his foot. A big disc of dead skin grew on his heel and normally it would get dry and peel off on its own but this time it created a sort of pressure sore underneath it. I got some cream from B's dermatologist that was supposed to help with the disc of skin coming off but it didn't work as well as we'd hoped and underneath the dead skin the pressure of it...I don't know...killed off the blood supply. Don't ask me - I don't know shit about this sort of pressure sore. It's like a pressure sore that's not open to the surface but fluid would build up underneath and created a blister and then it popped and leaked out and then the dead skin loosened but I didn't dare remove it because the sking underneath still looked raw. All I know is that while the dermatologist was on vacation in China I kept down any infection as best I could by cleaning the wound and slapping on a pantload of antibiotic cream. I did pretty well because by the time the dermatologist saw the wound today he congratulated me on keeping B's foot from getting too funky. The doctor then clipped off all the dead and funky skin and for the next two weeks I have to keep it cleaned and dressed and B has to stay in bed - no shoes, no sitting in a wheelchair with the weight of his leg pressing on his heel. B's afraid that he's disappointing me by not being able to take me out to celebrate our anniversay but I told it to him straight. Being married means we take care of each other and that's always going to be our priority, not going out to dinner.
I want to find whoever developed Januvia and kiss them. With tongue.

Friday Shuffle - Foiled Again Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 17 Jul 2009 21:17:00 +0000

I was all revved up to show you pictures of the flat I won't be moving to but that fell through for today. The lady from the rental company was short handed at the office and couldn't leave so we're rescheduled for early Monday morning. I realize it seems ridiculous to be all hepped up about seeing a flat I won't live in but there is a bit of logic to my madness. First I'll get to see what the flats in that style of building are like in case one becomes free in a building where B can access the elevator. Second I need to talk to the rental company lady about getting me on any waiting lists for suitable buildings. And third, I'm a masochist. I want to see how nice this flat is and then whine about it for a few hours. Certainly not longer than a day. Honest.

Let's shuffle.

No Reply - The Beatles
For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her - Simon & Garfunkel
Sing - Travis
The Loving - XTC
Hold On - Sarah McLachlan
Man On The Moon - REM
Lyla - Oasis
The Pharoahs - Neko Case
I Want To Know - The Mavericks
Swoon - Maria Doyle Kennedy

Try, Try Again

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 21:21:00 +0000

I found out today that the flat we'd be seeing on Friday doesn't have elevator access that goes to the ground floor. There are six steps up to the elevator so that puts us out. And the elevator doesn't seem to be large enough for B's wheelchair so even if there weren't steps it wouldn't be suitable anyway.

I knew I shouldn't have done this. Find a flat that seemed so perfect. Right floor plan, right number of square meters, right price and location. Next thing you know I'm picking out paint colors in my mind, planning on where I'm going to put furniture and imagining myself walking all of thirty seconds before I'm at the Christmas market. I start seeing myself in that perfect flat and then bam! One thing doesn't fit with us and I've spent my time daydreaming for nothing.

I'm still going to meet with the lady from the rental company on Friday. I'm fairly sure that there are other flats in that area in that style that, if not available right now, will be one day. Maybe we can get on a waiting list or something. We're not going to give up yet looking for our dream apartment but I think I'll say myself some frustration and disappointment by giving up the daydreaming.

Friday Shuffle - Time to Pack Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 21:34:00 +0000

Last Saturday after I got home from my trip to Hannover B asked me if I'd like to move. He wasn't sure how the conversation got started but sometime while I was gone he got to talking with my MIL and Gerd about us moving.

And just as soon as B mentioned the idea to me I became very enthusiastic.

You longtime readers will remember all the trouble I had with my former neighbors at our old building. If you don't know the story dig back into my archives starting in April 2005 and read through to the time when we moved in November 2005. Anyway, over time I've been a little dissatisfied with my flat. I hate my kitchen. I make no bones about that. I had a perfect kitchen at my old flat and now my kitchen is so small that I couldn't cuss a cat without getting a hair in my mouth. I'm not thrilled that I don't have a real view from my living room window and balcony. And then there are some problems with my neighbors. The people who live above me play the piano every day, sometimes for four or five hours at a time. The new guy who moved in at the end of my hall and his buddies leave their bikes in front of the mailboxes and they slam the door - usually between 2:00 and 3:00 AM. And someone keeps smoking in the elevator. That's the one that really irks me. I mean that one is beyond rule breaking and has entered the realm of illegal.

Back when we were looking for a new flat in 2005 we had considered moving a little closer to the old market square than we are now. The apartments there are the ones that were first built after the war and were always the ones that were the hardest to get. I had been afraid to live in them though because I was afraid that they'd be expensive to heat and I didn't know how well I'd do with living in the busiest part of the city. We settled on a flat that's about two blocks up from where we'd considered living and while it's not a bad flat, it simply doesn't have any personality.

I now like the idea of getting just that much closer to the center of town. Now that I know what it's like living down here I think it's something I could do with more intensity. Not just be a block away from all the action but be in the middle of it. So for the last week B and I have been looking online at available flats in that area. The street we'd most like to live on doesn't have any available flats but there's one around the corner that's available and we've reserved it for two weeks so that no one can rent it out from under us until we make a final decision. It's in a Stalinbau building - it's a style that was used in East Germany right after the war that's based upon a building style in Moscow. That means the walls are much thicker than the normal Plattenbau - buildings made of concrete plates and what is the most common style in the east. The flat we're interested in is on the 5th floor, is directly across the street from the mall, and has gated parking in the courtyard. The flat is about the same amount of square meters as we have now but it has one room less and no balcony so that means the rooms are larger. And would I be closer to the Christmas market? Ohhh baby. It hardly can be closer. The Christmas market wraps around three sides of the building (it's a huge building that covers the whole block) - the side where it's not located is the side where my front door would be.

The flat was recently vacated and is now being renovated and I have an appointment to view it next Friday. It's by no means a done deal. The elevator has to be easily accessable for B, all the doors have to be wide enough for his electric wheelchair to pass and we simply have to like it. Unlike the last time we moved we're not desperate and pressed for time. If for some reason we don't want to move to this flat, we'll find another but in any case, it looks like that sometime soon I'll be getting a new address.

I'll do anything to get out of washing the windows, won't I?

On to the shuffle.

We Own The Night - The Donnas
Suffragette City - David Bowie
And She Was - Talking Heads
Where Is My Mind? - Pixies
I Will Follow You Into The Dark - Death Cab for Cutie
Island In The Sun - Weezer
Mr. E's Beautiful Blues - Eels
Your Good Girl's Gonna Go Bad - Tammy Wynette
Five O'Clock World - The Vogues
Norwegian Wood - The Beatles

Plan for One Thing, Another Happens

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 20:30:00 +0000

It was my intention to show y'all some pictures of Hannover from my Saturday spent there with Christina, Claire, and Claire's husband and son - popularly known as the German and the Dude. Unfortunately I realized today that the camera was set to take photos by lamplight and I was in the bright sunshine so the photos look as though they were taken with a blue filter over the lens. Maybe I can clean them up but I don't have the time or desire at the moment. Instead, let me entertain you with this beauty:

Wouldn't I like to know how this happened. The silver Audi is in a street parking space so perhaps the truck was backing out of the loading zone and smacked into it. Or the Audi became impatient with the truck, tried to drive around it and got smacked. I just happened to look out the window while I was in the kitchen getting a glass of water and when I saw it I had to grab the camera so I could later show it to B. He's so easily entertained.

So I have no photos of Hannover but let me assure you that we had a wonderful time. Other folks were expected to join us but kids and life in general got in the way and they ended up having to beg off so us five made do. It was a great day - warm but with a good breeze and enough sunshine to give me a mild sunburn. We met up at the train station and walked over to the new city hall which, despite it's name, is not particularly new but all the same quite pretty. Being as we're a trio of smart alecks, Christina, Claire and I would say "Don't do it! Don't do it! Back out before it's too late!" when we'd pass couples who were getting married and having their photos taken before the small lake in front of city hall. Lunch was at the Block Haus and I enjoyed it thoroughly, especially it was the first beef steak I've eaten since Bill Clinton was president. After our lunch we headed over to the Marschsee, a large man-made lake in the city. The sun was about to bake us alive so we parked ourselves under some shade trees at a beer garden and chatted and drank and refreshed ourselves before starting back for the train station. By then we'd walked a good ways so our trip back was at a slower pace but it gave us the opportunity to chat more, discuss the delicious scent of linden trees, read some Latin and see a pro democracy-in-Iran march.

More refreshment was needed by then so we stopped at a ice cream cafe - and that's when I noticed we had a problem. When I reached into my handbag to get out my wallet I noticed that my cell phone wasn't in it's little pocket inside my bag. Normally I'm positively anal about putting things in their proper place in my handbag so my cell phone being gone could only mean that I'd left it somewhere. While we were at the Marschsee I called B and that was the last time I remembered seeing it. Christina called my number to see if we could hear it ring and I wish someone had taken me a picture of with my handbag up to my ear trying to hear it ring so I could locate where it was - except none of us could hear it ring. Claire and I dug through my bag and couldn't find it. A second call to my phone didn't help either. All I could think is that after I'd called B I'd set the phone down on the bench instead of putting it back in my bag. It was hard to be upset about it though because I've been very disappointed in that phone since about two weeks after buying it and it's a pre-paid phone so I didn't have to worry about someone racking up a bill. I was dreading telling B though because I knew it wouldn't be very enthusiastic about having to replace a seldom used cell phone because I'd layed it down on a park bench in Hannover. Still it was worth the loss of a phone to be able to spend the day with Christina, Claire, the German and the Dude - who just may be the most well-behaved and charming toddler in the world. I was sweaty, hot, tired and my feet were swollen by the time I reached home but it was a well spent 4th of July holiday.

By Saturday night I'd ordered another cell phone. A fairly basic Nokia flip phone that I got for under 60€ and I'd planned on going to buy another SIM card come Monday morning. Sunday afternoon, just on a whim, I called my cell number again just to see if someone would answer and that's when I heard my handbag ring. I found the phone wedged under one of the inner pockets of my bag. Uhhh honey! About that phone we ordered for me...

It's red. And I like it way better than that crap Sony I lost and then found.

Friday Shuffle - Lifesize and Orange Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 20:21:00 +0000

I'm sure I've mentioned a ~~couple~~ seventy-jillion times that I absolutely dig Abraham Lincoln. While he was flawed and did some things during his life and during his presidency that could and did raise eyebrows, he was a master politician and accomplished the feat of preserving the union. We think the United States is polarized now? At least half of us hasn't broken off and declared itself to be a sovereign nation.

And macabre as it is, Abraham Lincoln also had a...well...an interesting death. Of course I believe it was a terrible tragedy for his family and for the nation because who knows how far back his death set back the south (Welcome to Revenge! I mean, Reconstruction!) but I'm pretty good at compartmentalizing and I can look at the assassination of Lincoln on its own. It fascinates me no end and always will.

Abraham Lincoln during his life was intelligent, determined, witty, eloquent, compassionate and a brilliant politician. However there was one thing he wasn't - Lincoln was never a giant block of Wisconsin cheddar cheese. At least he wasn't until today:

My friend, Mary Ann, who knows of my love of all things presidential and my special fascination with Lincoln pointed me yesterday to an article in the Washington Post that said a sculpture of Lincoln made entirely of cheddar cheese would be on display in Washington on, I believe, Constitution Avenue. For just three hours because cheese in Washington in July gets pretty skanky pretty fast and this cheese would later be divided up and given away. It was then that I began to lament that I no longer lived outside of DC and could not go see the Abe-as-Commander-in-Cheese sculpture. But I happen to have amazing friends. One of my amazing friends, Lorrie, who is so thoughtful and generous and who also is fortunate enough to live in DC, took a bit of time this afternoon to go see this (literally) cheesy sculpture and get me a few photos. Tell me that's not a great friend.

One time of year that I get homesick is when the 4th of July rolls around. The 4th is one of my favorite holidays. I dig all those parades and picnics and I really love the fireworks. I love my country. I may live abroad but I will never forget that I am an American and I am grateful for all that my country has provided me. Even presidents in cheddar.

On to the shuffle.

Reflections - Diana Ross & The Supremes
To Be Young (Is To Be Sad, Is To Be High) - Ryan Adams
Bright Young Thing - Albert Hammond, Jr.
Creep - Radiohead
Panic Switch - Silversun Pickups
Two Halves - My Morning Jacket
Angel - Adam Ant
All Over You - Live
Daughter - Loudon Wainwright III
Swoon - Maria Doyle Kennedy

Friday Shuffle - Already Said My Goodbyes Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 19:16:00 +0000

Like many of you I've been watching a lot of coverage of the death of Michael Jackson. I was shocked but not particularly surprised. Actually it would have been surprising for Michael Jackson to not die before becoming an old man. I don't think many could really feature a seventy-five year-old Michael Jackson.

I loved the Jackson 5 starting back when I was just a little kid. I loved Michael when he released Off the Wall and I thought Thriller was brilliant. And it's at that point where I stop. To me his subsequent music didn't have the same quality. Every song seemed to be filled with that hiccupy phrasing he used and all those annoying "Heehee!"s he'd throw in. Each album would be just a pale copy of the last pale copy. After Thriller I never spent another penny on his music except to replace in CD or MP3 what I'd lost in vinyl. Michael Jackson stopped being relevant to me sometime in 1984.

So when I heard that Michael Jackson had passed I didn't have the reaction that I'd miss him or his music. I have his music - the music he made that mattered to me. And the Michael Jackson I grew up with and loved faded from view about twenty-five years ago. I'd already lost an icon of my youth back in my youth.

I'm not sure what to think of the post-Thriller Michael. The duality of his personality is hard for me to understand. He seems to have been used by his family and yet remained close to them. He talked about how he didn't have a normal childhood but didn't seem to be letting his own children have a normal one either. He was known for being a kindhearted man who was compassionate and caring and yet he was accused of doing heinous things to young kids. If what he was accused of doing is true then it's repugnant and yet he truly didn't seem to get that anything he did was wrong. I don't mean that he was deep-down evil or he didn't care about consequences. I mean he just didn't get it. He just didn't seem to get what the real world was like. I have pity for the man while at the same time I have irritation at him.

I'm sorry for those fans of Michael Jackson who are mourning now. I'm sorry for his family and I'm sorry for his friends who will miss him. I wish I could feel sadder about this but I don't. I suppose it's because I did my mourning decades ago and the Michael Jackson who passed yesterday was a stranger to me.

Let's shuffle.

Heavy Cross - Gossip
Guitar Town - Steve Earle
You Never Know - Wilco
Her Diamonds - Rob Thomas
Sundown - Gordon Lightfoot
Constructive Summer - The Hold Steady
Golden Skans - Klaxons
This Ole House - Bette Midler
Leaving On A Jet Plane - Peter, Paul & Mary
Somebody To Love - Queen

Buyer's Remorse

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 24 Jun 2009 20:46:00 +0000

I've been wearing glasses since I was ten years old. There was a good twenty-five years where I wore contact lenses almost exclusively but since age caught up with me and I had to switch to bifocals I stopped wearing them except in a few instance when I didn't want to wear glasses and I knew I wouldn't have to read anything. Therefore it goes without saying that in the past thirty-seven years I've purchased my fair share of eyeglasses. And every single time it's a nightmare that leaves me feeling slightly sick afterwards.

My current pair of glasses is a pair that I don't like. I've never been very crazy about how they feel on me and so I don't wear them often. I have a cheap pair of glasses that are more comfortable but I don't see particularly well with them. It was time for me to get a new pair so off I went to the optician.

I tend to buy glasses that run to the conservative side of style. Classic, as the optician likes to call it. Now that I've resigned myself to wearing glasses full time I decided that I would break out a bit and get a pair that would be a little more stylish. More chic. More trendy. Less old lady. I go to the same optician and the same guy helps me each time. I told him that I was looking to get glasses that would be a bit different than my current pair and yet not make me look like an idiot. Heavy plastic frames, intense colors and off-beat shapes are great for some but I am not that some. Regardless of the years I've spent wearing glasses, I don't like them. I have never really felt comfortable in them and I don't think I'm really suited to wearing glasses. I don't have a glasses face. And I can count on one hand how many pair I've had that I have really liked. Actually I can count them on one finger.

I tried on at least a dozen pair of glasses. Some were on the flashy side and I immediately rejected them. Some were of the style I already have and while I was tempted to wimp out and get them I really wanted to get a more updated look. There was a pair that I'd tried on about four or five pair into the process that were good. I kept looking but I returned to them again and again, trying them on over and over to make sure that I could live with them. The legs are plastic and a bit wider than I've ever worn. And they're black. Not super black. Light black, if such a thing exists. The lenses are rectangular but not severely so and the frame around the lenses (they're rimless on the bottom) is a nice blue-gray. They're cute. They add some color and interest to my face. I think.

So I bought them. And while the frames were on sale (I got a third off) the lenses certainly weren't. Know what's the worst part about having to go to bifocal lenses? It's not the fact that it means you're getting older. It's the fact that bifocal lenses cost a king's ransom. I don't like to buy cheap lenses (the ones in my cheap spare pair are crap lenses and it definitely makes a difference in how well I see) but when all the elements get added up I still go into a state of shock. Buying a car doesn't send me into a fit like getting the total cost on a pair of bifocal glasses. The last time I went into such a state of shock was when I bought a four bedroom house.

Now I'm back home and now is when the doubt begins. Are those glasses really that cute? Maybe I was just settling. Maybe I think they're cute but others will see it and think I've lost my mind. And did I make the right decision on the lenses? Maybe I would see just as well if I'd gotten the middle grade lenses and would have saved a hundred bucks. And did I do the vision test right? All that "Is this better? This? Number one or number two?". All that pressure to pick! Did I involuntarily squint while reading the bottom line and didn't realize it? I've just bought a pair of glasses that cost me more than a month's rent and my monthly utilities combined. Have I done the right thing?

Tell you what. The glasses will be ready in about 2 1/2 weeks. If when I get them I feel brave enough to take a picture of myself so you can see them and you think they're terrible, do me a favor. Lie. Or at least break it to me gently because I'm going to be stuck with them for a few years.

Friday Shuffle - Music from Unexpected Sources Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 20:20:00 +0000

I'd planned on letting y'all in on what I've been doing for the past three weeks but since it's Friday let's just stick to a musical theme. I'll bear my soul next week.

I live smack in the middle of the city and my flat is very close to the university. It's the tradition here that when someone earns their doctorate degree that the person being honored rides on a barrel being pulled on a wagon while someone beats a drum and the honoree's friends parade along behind. We hear the drum beating fairly often and when we do either I or B will comment to the other, "There's a new doctor in town!".

When I heard the drum beats today I noticed that they were just a bit too rhythmic to be a regular new doctor's parade and there were some definite sounds of brass instruments being played so I tugged on some shoes, grabbed my camera and went outside to investigate and found this:

It was a jazz band from the Sax'n Anhalt music school (the state I live in is Sachsen-Anhalt so you can appreciate the play on the spelling) out across the street from my flat. They were out in front of a cabaret - I don't know if they were hired by the cabaret or it was just providence that brought them there but they were excellent. I sat there on a bench across the street from them as they played to the gathered crowd. They'd walk around the people as they played and get down on the level with the little kids and everyone loved them. I sat with my downstairs neighbor and her two little girls and watched the kids dance. Know what's so great about living in the middle of the city? A mini jazz concert can break out at any time.

My other tale of music today took me back in time about thirty-five years. A few years ago I wrote about elementary school and the fantastic music teacher we had who taught a bunch of kids to sing everything from Peter, Paul and Mary to the Cowsills to Manfred Mann to the music of Jesus Christ Superstar and Fiddler on the Roof. A few of us who went to school together have found one another again on Facebook and joined a group for those who attended our elementary school. Naturally a big part of the conversation within that group has centered on our beloved music teacher and she found us again as well and joined us. Those of us she taught were anxious to friend her and on her Facebook wall are lots of messages from folks who remember her fondly. Virtually every one of them thanks her for making music into something that has stayed an important part of their lives. Mrs. A is 70 years old now, lives in New England and still plays piano in a hotel lounge on weekends. She reports that many of those songs she taught us are part of her play list and the patrons often tell her they have their own fond memories of those tunes.

Our elemenary school choruses made a couple albums and I remember we were so proud of them. I'd lost mine years ago - in fact the hundreds of vinyl albums I had are gone forever...don't ask - but my old friend, Elaine, wrote to me and said she still had hers and she'd put the parts our class' chorus sang on CD for me. It arrived today and I played it immediately. Some of the songs I ddin't remember especially well but some are so burned into my brain that I could sing along with them without missing a word even though I haven't heard those songs in thirty years. The performances didn't sound perfect - the record was recored in the school's cafeteria so you can imagine what the acoustics were like - and there were all sorts of notes we didn't quite reach. I laughed at how crummy we sounded sometimes but we really weren't all that bad. And for what we may have lacked in pitch sometimes we made up for in enthusiasm. I remember that making these records was one of the highlights of our elementary school years and rehearing them now brings back memories I forgot I had.

Time to shuffle.

Clerkenwell Polka - Madness
Over It - Dinosaur Jr.
Relax - Frankie Goes to Hollywood
Rock Lobster - The B-52's
Heavy Cross - Gossip
For Emma - Bon Iver
Tiger Mountain Peasant Song - Fleet Foxes
One Day Like This - Elbow
Summertime Blues - Alan Jackson
Loreley - Blackmore's Night

Resurfacing

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 17 Jun 2009 20:24:00 +0000

I considered seeing if I could go three weeks without a blog entry but decided against it.

I'm fine here. Better than I've been in a while actually. I'll give you more details later - probably Friday - but for now I'll tell you that I've been spending the past few weeks trying to break a lot of old habits that have been holding me back. I've spend too much time doing what wasn't working for me and now I'm trying to refocus on what will work. And trying to use as many pretentious words like "refocus" as I can.

Now I must go eat a kiwi.

Friday Shuffle - Swing and Sway Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 29 May 2009 20:34:00 +0000

Oops! You caught me. I was absolutely not paying attention and didn't realize how late in the evening it is. Y'all were expecting a shuffle and I was busy listening out the window to the folks on the street coming from the beer tent that's set up at the end of our block. That only means one thing - it's Pentecost weekend and that means it's Magdeburg's annual Stadtfest - city festival.

I look forward to Stadtfest every year. It's a bit like the Christmas market without all the Christmassy thing so it satisfies me until the actual Christmas market opens. There are shows on various stages spread around the downtown area where I live. There are rides and sale stands and of course lots and lots of yummy food that you probably shouldn't eat but do anyway because it's a festival, dang it all! I believe the root of the word "festival" is Latin and means "eat lots o' crap". And of course the Stadtfest wouldn't be complete without the beer tent - an enormous tent set up with tables and benches where folks gather to drink beer, eat more junk and listen to an enormous amount of German Volksmusik from a band from Bavaria. Music that's so hokey and ridiculous sounding when you first enter the tent but becomes fabulous and you find yourself clapping along or linking arms and swaying with your seatmates as you drink more and more beer. For years the beer tent's location would change. Some years it was down near the cathedral. Some years it was down by the river. Finally they figured out where it worked best and as luck would have it, the place it works best is at the end of my block. Just a few hundred meters walk and I'm there. Even better, just a few hundred meters walk and I'm back home to a clean bathroom.

How much one enjoys the Stadtfest depends a lot on how the weather is. The worst thunderstorm I've ever seen since I've lived here occurred when I was at the Stadtfest. One minute it was a warm, muggy late afternoon and the next minute the winds howled, the clouds puked rain and I was in fear of being electrocuted or having a tree limb whack me on the head. Three years ago when my sister and her family were visiting it was dreadfully damp and much too cool. It didn't slow us down any though. We hung out in the beer tent and drank and sang and laughed. It was the year when the band played "My Way" and my sister gave us a stunning (read: drunken) vocal interpretation of that song. I wish my sister remembered it because it's burned into my brain. I've never seen her so uninhibited but that's what happens when you're a little plowed and you're in a country where you don't live.

It's supposed to be somewhat warm this weekend - in the upper 60's - and hopefully not rainy so we're planning on getting Burkhard outside and down the street to the Stadtfest. We'll weave our way through the crowds, maybe watch a stage show or two, get some junk to eat and then we'll make our way to the beer tent. 'Cause it just ain't Stadtfest unless you hear the music.

Speaking of - let's shuffle.

Hungry Heart - Bruce Springsteen
Hidden Shame - Elvis Costello
Kiss And Tell - Alexander Rybak
That Look You Give That Guy - Eels
Build Me Up Buttercup - The Foundations
C'mon C'mon - Von Bondies
For What It's Worth - Placebo
Come And Get Your Love - Redbone
Cruel To Be Kind - Nick Lowe
She's A Rainbow - The Rolling Stones

First Day of Many

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Wed, 27 May 2009 20:21:00 +0000

Yesterday was one of those days you dread - the first of the season, in fact. Those days when it's too warm and too muggy and you're praying for a thunderstorm to come along and wash everything clean. We had storms predicted for our area and I was anxious for one to conjure itself up and give us some relief.

I'd just cleaned a winter's worth of grime from the plastic chairs that sit on my balcony - a necessity since I was wearing white slacks. I took the current book I'm reading, When Will There Be Good News? by Kate Atkinson, outside with me to sit for a spell.

Outside the air was thick with humidity despite the strong breeze that was blowing. My hair was pinned up at the back of my head. Loose tendrils of hair snaked around my neck, sweat slicked and sticking to my skin. I was barefoot and I propped up my feet on another chair.

I'd brought a cocktail with me. Not much of one - just a glass crammed with ice and two fingers of Martini Bianco and then filled to the top with Sprite Zero. A bit sweet but I told myself the lemony flavor would be refreshing and therefore displace some of the sweetness. The glass stood sweating on a flower cart and occasionally I'd have to fan away a bee before taking a drink. Tipsy bees.

Below me on the street I could hear the fountains gushing and the occasional sounds of splashing and laughing from little ones as they walked by and were unable to resist dipping their hands in. I had on sunglasses but they weren't very necessary. The sun would blaze and then duck behind thick, gray clouds and back out again. The breeze pushed the clouds farther and farther to the east but as of yet wouldn't build up to be a proper raincloud.

So I sat. And I read. I'd squint when the sun would catch the corner of my eye and I'd be happy when a strong breeze would cool the sweat on my neck. And I waited for the thunderstorm that never came.

Friday Shuffle - Not What I Expected Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 22 May 2009 20:56:00 +0000

I was up to my elbows in taking a grilled chicken off the bone. It's a job that fairly grosses me out and I try not to think of what exactly I'm doing less I lose my appetite for chicken completely. Anyway, there I was with my hands covered in chicken grease, seasoning from the chicken beneath my nails, fairly nauseated from performing this rather disgusting task when I could hear B holler from the living room something that sounded like "fire" and "Fernseher" - the German word for television.

There were a couple things that caught my attention immediately. B nearly never mixes English and German words together in the same sentence - I'm the one that pulls that stunt. Second, B was hollering pretty loud which is very seldom. He has little control over his diaphragm so yelling is very difficult for him and he saves it for emergencies only. It can literally exhaust him to scream. The whole combination of yelling and mixing languages and of course hearing the word "fire" told me that I had to move and right now. As fast as I could I scurried from the kitchen to the living room to see the flames I'd find shooting from the television we've had for three weeks.

No flames. Just the regional news.

"What's going on?"

"I told you. Freya's on TV. Look! There she is again."

I stood there with grease coated hands and watched Freya tell the reporter why she as a young person wanted to run for political office now. Freya is the 22 year old daughter of our friend Kirsten and Freya is running for city council. She's been involved with the CDU political party for a few years now and this is her first time running for office. Anyway, when the report was over I turned to B and said "You know you really scared the daylights out of me! I thought the TV was on fire!"

"No, no! I was saying Freya was on the Fernseher."

"And you know what I was thinking when I was rushing in here thinking the TV was on fire? Not that you were in danger or that the TV was only three weeks old. I wasn't even thinking that it likely wouldn't be possible for the sound to be on the TV. I'm actually embarrassed to tell you what I was thinking as I ran in here."

"What?"

"All I could think was 'I'm going to ruin the TV touching it with my chicken grease covered hands'."

"We all have our priorities."

Time to shuffle.

Words Of Love - The Beatles
Night By Night - Michael Stanley Band
Katherine Hit Me - Franz Ferdinand
Hard To Beat - Hard-Fi
Burnin' For You - Blue Öyster Cult
I Was Zapped By The Lucky Super Rainbow - The Flaming Lips
Your Rocky Spine - Great Lake Swimmers
The Loving - XTC
Hey Now - Tenfold Loadstar
The Lark Ascending - Sir Adrian Boult, Hugh Bean & New Philharmonia Orchestra

Friday Shuffle - Who Needs a Calendar? Edition

noreply@blogger.com (Dixie) — Fri, 15 May 2009 20:54:00 +0000

Hmmmm. Nearly forgot to write today as all day I've thought it was Saturday. B and I tend to live on a pretty regular schedule so when anything pops up to throw off that schedule, I'm hopeless to remember what day of the week it is. Have an unexpected appointment crop up or cancel a weekly event and I'm screwed. All day yesterday I thought it was Tuesday and all day today I've thought it was Saturday. Even flipped on the TV mid-afternoon to watch the soccer matches. It's not going to get any better next week either since the doctor's appointment we normally have every fourth Thursday will be on Tuesday instead and Thursday is a holiday here so I'm sure that day I'll think it's Sunday.

And that, my friends, is what's passing this week as current events.

You shuffle. I'm going to go have a Magnum bar. Ice cream doesn't care what day it is.

Peeled Apples - Manic Street Preachers
Spaceman - The Killers
Baby I'm A Fool - Melody Gardot
Gracie - Ben Folds
Sadness Soot - Grant-Lee Phillips
Silent Sigh - Badly Drawn Boy
See No Evil - Television
Everybody Loves You Now - Billy Joel
Pictures Of Lily - The Who
There Goes My Heart - The Mavericks