DUMBWIT TELLHER

Music, a Man and a Town

2011-12-15T02:38:00.001-06:00

It’s the holiday season. As many of you are basking in the glow of your beautifully decorated tree, your stockings all hung by the chimney with care, I have done none of the above. It’s been the most unorthodox of Decembers for the Dumbwit, and believe me, I’ve had too many to publicly admit. There’s been no hanging of lights, no bounty of boughs, not even a cleverly penned Christmas letter in which I humiliate my 4 children.

Although I feel a bit displaced not doing what I love best about this season, I have been given the greatest gift of all this Christmas, I have been given the gift of love.

The 25 year old Dumbwit would have cringed reading what the “cough..sputter...” (today’s) Dumbwit has just written. She would of uttered an indignant “let’s just go out to the shed and grab a shovel”.

On November 23rd, I narrowly missed my flight from Aberdeen to Seattle. I was quite the sight as I sprint through the airport looking ever so chic (*!#@!) as I gasped for air panting as I dragged my over-stuffed carry-on up the too many steps to the Air France plane parked on the tarmac. As I entered the cabin, passengers strained to catch a look of the idiot responsible for delaying the plane, only to realize by the look of me, that I could just perish while in flight. To add fuel to this already flamed post mid-life gal, I had 4 check points to pass through once I claimed my luggage at Seattle’s airport. It was the suitcase chocked full of Tunnocks Tea Cakes and Carmel Wafers that looked sketchy, I now know.

Not only did I have the joy of celebrating Thanksgiving with my family, but I had the unbelievable experience of attending a special night in which 415+ people gathered to celebrate the 43 year music/teaching career of father in my home town of Snohomish, Washington. Yes sure, the little city named after a native Indian tribe is a small one, but the accomplishments of it’s high school’s music students reached world wide, from the their first international trip in 1969 to their last in 1996, under my father’s direction. From being the first U.S. band to perform on the Great Wall of China, 1969 Berlin, Glasgow’s Hampton Court for 90,000 footballers for the 1980 Scottish Cup, for the King of Norway, President Regan, the Montreux Jazz Festival, Euro Disney, to wining over-all first place in the St. Patrick’s Day parade in Dublin, and on.... Huge accomplishments for kids that many had never traveled from Snohomish to Seattle, a 45 minute car ride, let alone fly to Europe.

With this story, it is so easy to get carried away with facts, and testimonies, and hilarious stories. As the daughter of a bandman, I felt as though my childhood had been celebrated that night. Musician, after musician performed; the alumni choir sang, and the band belted out it’s tunes; soloists inspired, brass horns swayed, a drum line brought us to our feet, while several pianists left us in awe, including 2x Emmy award winning producer, composer, arranger, Nick Manson. All this and more orchestrated perfectly by the evenings master of ceremony, Anchorage Alaska's KTVQ CBS 11 News Anchor Dave Stroh (and fellow Snoho) who kept us in tears one second, and belly laughing the next.

But you see, the moral of this story is not just the tales of a teacher and his students, but what we all had in common to bring us all together from far and wide. It was about the love.

If I were to confess to you that in all my days I have never felt such feeling of love in a room, a large performing art center, would you understand? I’ve not witnessed so many tears of happiness from so many people over simply ‘seeing each other’. I’ve never hugged so many, heard so many laugh, and felt so many years melt away. We had all been swept back in time to a place, a time, a memory that we all seemed to have a common thread woven to join us all together. We felt love, as simple as that four letter word. Our love of music and our love for a man and each other.

As you take a look at the photos, I hope you see into the expressions on the faces of my peers.

And for a brief moment, I hope you too can feel the love.

old memories

new ones

click here

I’m still today in Seattle as I have also been waiting for my British visa to come through to allow me to reside in Scotland as a spouse. It’s come through with flying colours, and I’ll be be home before Air France can say, “oh no, not again!"

Wishing you and yours a festive holiday season filled with joy and happiness.

From my heart to yours.

{go forth and live responsibly}

support the arts

***In the New Year, if you find it your heart to donate towards the arts, I encourage you to research the needs of your local community schools to keep the music alive. Another organization is VH1 ‘Save the Music’ which is a non-profit foundation dedicated to restoring instrumental music education in America’s public school.

my favourite photo of my parents / band bus Taiwan Trip

photo credits - Lisa Foxworthy Stine, Carey Cairns Andray, John Pulliam

Bits and Bobs, Style and Spirit

2011-11-16T07:06:00.001-06:00

Life is all about the details. You and I know that when there's something 'big' coming up, we agonize over what to wear, down to the colour of our hose, or the pattern of our tie.

It's the most minuet details that can set us apart, make us look our finest, and speak volumes of 'who' we are. Aren't there scores of us women that dress for 'other-women' and the brave few that dress for themselves; men, well..we all know nothing is finer than a finely tuned male dresser.

Is all of this not true for where we live? It's the bones, the architectural details, all the way down to the jewellery - the light fixtures. It's how we live, much like a savvy suit, that expresses who we are.

Are you conservative, or is it retro, or flamboyant; or not so much rock and roll, but a little bit country?

Those that can see beyond the trends, but set them. That buck the system, and have insight to see a 'diamond in the rough' are those I applaud. These are the few who have a style that sets them apart from the followers.

I knew at a young age that I wanted to be different. Not following the norm was my mantra, but yet always wanting to fit in. It's knowing how much to edit ourselves and differentiate our style to obtain that aesthetically pleasing balance; and to not have the neighbours talking behind your back!

As I sit in my flat itching to get started at polishing this wee-gem ( and I mean wee), like most things in life I need to slow down, take in the details, soak in it's history and have a plan. As a person who wants to jump in, I believe a home needs to speak to us first for us to understand it's true language. Yes houses do talk to us, and sometimes they are saying, "what the heck were you thinking?"

On the other hand as soon as I can whip out a paint brush and rip up a few carpets the happier I'll be. There isn't enough Fabreeze in all of the U.K. to make things right in my lounge. I can learn to love Haggis, much easier than learning to live without the comforts of loving where you lay your head.

Isn't it all about understanding the rules and knowing when to break them; if not shake them and giving your rooms a stir? "Le style est l'homme même" (style is the dress of thoughts).

So as I am, I try to focus, observe, and resist dipping into the nearest paint can I get my hands on; stifling back the urge to wave that paint brush like my freak-flag, One day at a time, one paint swatch to reconsider, I'm trying on my new look, the look of patience.

After all, life is all about the details?

The Dumbwit details.

Notice the stairs that go to nowhere; what was once to the downstairs coal bin and servants quarters. Who has touched that railing and were they servants catering to the people of the house? What's their story?

They details are few but I think once finished, they'll be mighty.
I want to wish all who are celebrating a joyous Thanksgiving. I'm jumping a plane on Wednesday to Seattle (yes I get to change planes in PARIS!) to spend time with my family and attend a special event held in my father's honour on the 26th. I may be slow on getting the moments needed to wish you all a hot 'cuppa' tea, elastic waistbands and whipped cream on your pumpkin pie.

Hard to believe the dreaded, yet exciting 'Black Friday' is just around the bend. As I just typed those words, I had a sudden urge to see the nutty blond Target lady in her mad pursuit for BF bargains. She could make me laugh blindfolded.

Happy times folks!

{go forth and rejoice}

Some hae meat by Robert Burns

Some hae meat and canna eat,
And some wad eat that want it;
But we hae meat and we can eat,
And sae the Lord be thanit.

Amen

*single photos courtesy of admirationtolove.tumblr.com, video-via youtube, collages - dumbwittellher.com

Grab your wellies, the Dumbwit lands in Scotland

2011-11-04T11:21:00.002-05:00

All designs/photos credited to Nicky Haslam of NH Designs

What is it about us humans that there are those who desire constant change, and those that do not? People that get the 'itch' to move every few years, and those quite content with staying put, roots firmly planted. I suspect there is a small population to whom the gypsy lifestyle might all just boil-down to the insatiable addiction to the searching, planning and executing their next home (Ally of 'From the Right Bank' promptly comes to mind; creating beautiful homes where-ever life takes her).

What colours to use, furniture placement, trends, and the piece de resistance, lighting. All accomplished by heaps of research, and the thrill of the hunt. The true cherry on-top, making it all fall into place to define who you (both) are, and in my case, on a well-tailored budget.

I very much understand both sides of the coin of how to live ones life. Is it our experiences as children that map out our course, or is it perhaps the lack of experiences? I'm convinced there is no specific formula, although in my case, a vivid imagination must of been a key element. I was a dreamer, not a planner; one who lived to laugh and never thought of seriousness; planning was for those who were boring, not the incredibly wise people that I later found out they were.

If I could be two people, two completely opposite people, then life would be ideal. I could be that mom that lives 15 minutes away, with my Sunday pot roast in the oven, and Saturday shopping dates with the girls, and the one son who is mad about the shops. Not thinking about my life-clock ticking and all the adventures out there to be had, and so little time. Not having to miss my family every hour of every day. Would someone such as myself grow old and regret those precious hours missed being so far away from home and loved ones? You hope that your children will live the kind of lives that really calls to them; calls to them, but is executed without pain to those they love.

I can vividly recall a moment in time, when as a child I sat in my Grandparent's Montana basement, and dreamed of what life as an adult would be like? I had decided on that hot summers day, circa 1969, that I would leave high school to live in Europe; work to live and live to wander. Did it happen? Not by a long shot, but those childhood dreams are some of the hardest to fade away, even with time, lots and lots of time.

Moving to a foreign country on a budget is not for the faint of heart. It's not how we laid out our plans, but that's what life planned for us. Our flat, although in a swank neighbourhood, had been a rental to younger professionals who obviously didn't have a notion how to clean. It was the aroma of boys locker room infused upholstered furniture and years of baked on curry in the 'hob' that almost sent me on the next flight anywhere away from Aberdeen.

After my panic attack subsided, I gathered my pride, slapped on the rubber gloves, and I began to scrub; bleach is now my new best friend and good hard work releases anger. When you think of me living in picturesque Scotland, don't think it's all toffee pudding, warm-custard and champagne. I have no tumble dryer, no dishwasher, no car, and few personal belongings from home. The flip side - I just have to recall the previous 15 months that I bored-to-tears, anyone who'd quite frankly, would listen. You poor souls patiently lifted me up as I droned on about the complexities of selling a home in 2011. It became hard to just look @ myself in a mirror. Here & now, it is the most unusual of 'occurrences' that make me realise, when I see that face in the mirror, that I'm very fortunate, despite the addition of wrinkles.

I was standing at the bar of the 'Prince of Wales' pub one Friday night ordering a pint, when this friendly fermented elderly fellow asked me, "do you come to this pub often?" I replied that I had just moved to Aberdeen a week ago. He struggled to figure out just where my accent was from, and after determining I was not Canadian, he asked me, "Is America a big city?" His excuse, quite possibly his love of drink, where as the teller @ our local Houston bank asked us if in Scotland do they speak English, and if it was a tropical climate? I smiled at both people and politely answered their questions, although you'd like to really say, "REALLY?" How exciting it is to live in many places; to meet people, and to experience the differences in something as simple as day to day life. We all are truly a like and yet different enough to make life fascinating.

* I've been out of the blogging world for far too long whilst we moved house to the U.K. I thank sincerely those that have stopped bye to say hello and politely ask what had happened to me. Many thanks to you for reading today. Life has been fast and furious, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I hope to get caught up soon to what is going on in your part of the world.

Have a wonderful weekend and it's good to see you again!

Cheers my Dears x

{go forth and live responsibly}

tomorrow is today

*this weekends plans - The Genesis Oil & Gas Autumn Ball, and Guy Fawke's Night!