Lovely Love Letters

Whenever I watch shows about history, I'm always consumed with these feelings of awe, gratitude and warmth. Inevitably there is a love letter of some kind-either read by the narrator or actually shown as it is being read. What always strikes me are the lovely ways in which these people poured out their hearts to one another. In particular, I adore they way that people would sign their letters to the adored one. I did a little research and found a few for you to peruse, however, I've only posted the final salutations from the letters. We've really lost the ability to express ourselves in this honest, revealing and beautifully flowered way. Our emails, texts, tweets and instant messages are convenient, to the point, abbreviated and blunt. The love letters of long ago, make me feel very comfortable. I think I have a very old soul. I don't think I've ever received a love letter. I've had notes in birthday and anniversary cards, but a love letter...to me...alas, it is not in my collection of writings between lovers.

All my affection embraces you.
James Madison to Dolley Madison 1805


Henceforward I am yours for everything....
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning (to Robert Browning)
(1806-1861)

Believe me your very devoted
Peirre Curie (to Marie Curie)

Adieu--Dearest, most beloved little wife-- Take care of your health-- and don't think of walking into town. Do write and tell me how you like our new quarters-- Adieu. I kiss you millions of times.
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart 1790 (to Constanze)

Dear Molly I am tenderly, passionately, faithfully thine, Richard Steele
(Sir Richard Steele to Mary Scurlock - August 1707) They were married shortly after this letter was written!

Harry, bag lady, and me.

Inspiration comes from many different people for me. I have always loved John Denver and his languid, melodies and poetic, natural lyrics. I also love to listen to AC/DC, Maroon 5, Mozart, Michael Buble, James Taylor, Ratt, Rod Stewart...I like all kinds of music. For those of you who know me, you know that Harry Connick, Jr. has rocked my world since the 80's when I saw "When Harry Met Sally". This was the movie that really shot Harry to stardom...he did the arrangements for it and it's all great musical history! Bernard Laiben and I drove up from Cape Girardeau while we were in college to hear an early concert of his in St. Louis. After the concert, we hung out for a very long time, bought a bunch of stuff we couldn't afford and then we were walking around the corner going to the car and saw Harry's tour bus at the side of the building. So, we waited a little bit, posters, t-shirts and Harry paraphernalia in hand, when all of a sudden...there he was...walking out of the side door of Powell Symphony Hall. I took off running and yelled at the top of my lungs..."HARRY!!!! Can we get a picture, please??!!" He stopped right before he had to step up to get in the bus. He turned and looked at me and said "sure!" I put all of my Harry stuff in a pile on the sidewalk so I could run faster...I got about half way to him and this bag lady who had been across the street was now perched over my Harry bags and bobbles poking through them! I quickly yelled "Hey....those are mine!" She turned quickly and left...meanwhile...Bernard is still at the corner taking it all in and laughing his ass off at me. I very excitedly turned back toward Harry, his tour bus and his entourage, and started back into my mini sprint. By this time...Bernard was running too and was almost to us...I said...."Thank you so much...sorry about yelling at you!" He smiled and said in his sexy New Orleans drawl..."Oh...that's okay." Then...it happened...the moment I will spend the rest of my life cherishing...he put his arm around my shoulders, gave my shoulder a little squeeze as we faced the camera and click...my moment in time with Harry was forever put into a photograph. Of course, Bernard got a pic too! Many times I've thought about what could have possibly been going through Harry's mind at that time...it was probably something like..."Who is this crazy girl hollering at me and the homeless woman? It's all good...my boys are here and they'll take 'er down if need be." Now let me put this all in perspective for you. Last night as I was driving to meet my husband and some friends for dinner, I heard "Photograph" by Def Leppard. I had it on a classic rock station and they were playing some great 80's tunes! Anyway, I was thinking about all of the photographs that I've taken through the years...and it dawned on me that I don't know where that photo of Harry and myself is! So, I'm on a mission this week to find that photograph! I may have to ask Bernard if he has a copy of it if I can't find mine! Anyway, that is my story...the story of HARRY and my shoulder squeeze! By the way, being a music teacher, a musician and a music enthusiast gives me some clout to say this next thing...Harry Connick, Jr. is one of the biggest musical talents as we'll see in this century. I admire his musicianship and his southern drawl. His smile isn't bad either.  :) I have other Harry stories from college...but they'll have to wait for another time. When I find the picture....I'll post it! Thanks, Harry...you made college and my music degree a lot more fun!

Parents...My parents.

When I was young, I thought my parents were perfect. I thought my parents were the smartest people in the world. Most kiddos do, I think. Mom could have been a concert pianist, in fact she told me once - not too long ago, that she had even considered it early on in her life...before Dad...before 6 kids! Dad was a math whiz. The calculations he could do in his head were truly amazing. He worked as a Projects Engineer for the St. Louis County Highway and Traffic Department for many years. They both came from a tiny town in southeast Missouri and grew up during the depression of the 1930's. Dad was and Mom is intelligent with individual talents who were always supportive and encouraging of us kids. I'm sure the family dynamic changed as the family grew and the years spread their life across our home. What was normal for Michele and myself was not the same for Bob, Mike, Jerry and Evanne. But when there is such a huge gap in ages, that is to be expected.

There was always music in our house. I can remember coming home from elementary school and hearing The Mills Brothers on the stereo as Michele and I walked in the door. Mom played piano and we sang. There was rock, jazz, classical, everything but country. Mom and Dad didn't like country music, so we didn't hear that in our house. When I was really young, I loved listening to my brothers' choices of music...Steppenwolf, The Who, and all of those bands that were so big back then. When Evanne was in high school, we listened to Boston, Steve Miller Band and Aerosmith among many others. We attended choir and band concerts and watched symphony concerts on tv. I loved when the St. Louis Symphony would travel down to our area and play at a local community college...that was a huge treat! 

I don't ever remember NOT being a musician. Even as a young child, I was a musician. I loved how the music allowed my brain to erupt into thought and feeling and creativity. It was an inspiration to sit and listen to Mom practice piano, play concert pieces, sing around the house as she was cooking and cleaning...it was a warmth and comfort that filled our home. And...still does when we're there.

I guess this is a tribute to my parents. Dad has been gone now for 19 years but his spirit lives on with us! Mom is 82 and is still as funny, loving and musical as she's always been! She doesn't play piano much anymore, but she still hums and sings quietly as she makes her way through the house...slower now, but with authority. And...if you catch her on the right day, you can still hear the Mills Brothers putting on a concert...or Rod Stewart...she has a very large range of musical interest!

I just want to thank my parents for being the incredible people that they were and are. I'm blessed to have had them and I'm blessed to be the product of people who cared enough to sacrifice their comfort for my education and happiness. I can never repay that, but I can appreciate and love them.

It is well with my soul.

I'm weak, woozy and I have no energy. My mind is hazy, and even though I know it is from the two Methotrexate injections I  took over the last two days, I can't will it away. It's in my blood, my muscle, my brain. I'm splitting the piss yellow colored dose in half and taking two injections over two days just like my Rheumatologist suggested, however, today it has not helped the sickness that comes with it.

Now, let me clarify something. I would much rather have this for two or three days a week as opposed to being bed-ridden and incapacitated like I was a year into having this disease. That kind of pain is something I hope I never experience again. 


My eyes feel heavy, not with that wonderful, relaxed, about to fall asleep- in the lounge chair- on the deck- on a warm summer evening heaviness either. It is a drug induced, lethargic manipulation of my body...for the betterment of my health.

Understand, I am not complaining, or seeking any sympathy. I'm just stating the facts. The facts that are in my life, my world, my well-being. The ubiquitous grayness that I experience with this life altering disease is as real, but maybe not as obvious, as the ubiquitous gray that now infiltrates my once dark brown, curly hair.


Over the years, I have learned to deal with the ups and downs, both physical and mental that come with the diagnosis. However, that does not mean that I have given in to it either. I have had to adjust; WE have had to adjust our lives, change plans, make tough decisions and carry on with life. But really...isn't that what EVERYONE has to do whether you have a disease or not? That's just part of living life!


I don't even attempt to tell others how to deal with their illnesses, physical limitations, mental limitations or a million other things that go wrong with us humans. I'm just saying that I have found some kind of inner peace about what I'm dealing with. I don't like it, I hate it in fact. And, if I were hurting right now...this would certainly have a different and less calming tone...but, at this very moment in time, in my heavy lidded grayness, I'm ok with being here, and glad my husband's arms will be around me as soon as I hit "publish post".

You Great Big Beautiful Doll!

When Valentine's Day rolls around each year, John and I don't really do anything special. It's usually a card and maybe a steak dinner that we cook at home. That's our normal m.o. So, this year, I wanted to surprise him, so I scheduled a women's quartet from the Springfield Metro Chorus to drive to Reeds Spring and sing "You Great Big Beautiful Doll" to him in front of his high school band students! Now, as usual, anything I plan - most of the time does not turn out the way I picture it in my head! I thought I'd see John off at his typical departure time of 6:30 a.m. and then quickly shower and get ready myself so I could drive the 25 minutes down to Reeds Spring in time to be there when the ladies sang to him. At 6:40 a.m. John was still laying next to me in bed, procrastinating the inevitable, daily hygiene routine. Of course, I couldn't say anything that I wanted to...like "GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED AND GO SHOWER!" Because then he would have known that something was up! So, finally he got ready and left the house at 7:05 a.m. Now that he had stolen my shower time, I was barely going to make it even with just brushing my teeth, so I threw on my clothes, brushed my teeth and limped as quickly as my RA riddled body would take me to the car. I was happy because the ladies weren't supposed to start until 8:15 and I would get there right on time. When I did pull up at 8:05...(I did not speed, there just wasn't any traffic)...I could see them through the window....they had already started! One of the kiddos let me in the door and I saw a beet-red-faced John sitting in a chair with these four ladies around him singing quite beautifully and with all of the flirting and touching they could legally do in a high school, they sufficiently and boldly embarrassed my Valentine! It has been VERY few times in the 26 years that I've known this man that I have seen him embarrassed, and this time was the ultimate! Another part of this story that I really love is the fact that the high school kids had just been chastised by John a few days before about using their cell phones..."You guys can not use your cell phones in class! One of the principals is going to walk in and then what? Do you guys get me?" The "funny" part??? THEY ALL had their phones out recording him...the entire thing! I can't wait to see it since I missed all but the last 40 seconds or so. The look on John's face when I walked in was priceless. His smile reminded me of a shy school boy who had just asked out a girl who had said "yes". I love flowers, chocolate, jewelry and all of those regular Valentine's Day gifts, but this is by far the best gift I've ever received...knowing that I had completely caught my husband off guard, embarrassed him AND made him smile!

Egyptians, friends and Mom.

I have had a lot of news this week. Good news, bad news and everything in between. Personal, local, national and international news have all come into play in my little corner of the world in the past few days. I am so very happy for our Egyptian friends. What an incredible thing to witness, even if it was just through newscasts, newspapers, radio and internet. One of John's professors at Arkansas State University, Dr. Amany Saleh, is Egyptian and is one of John's all-time favorite teachers. Also, the toughest teacher he's ever had. We were talking as all of this unfolded and he said "I ought to call her." He hasn't yet, but sure he will. Dr. Saleh was so tough on her master's degree students that they actually bought t-shirts to wear that said "I survived the wild ride!" They all wore them to her house for a celebratory party at the end of their last class with her before they graduated. My point is, we live in a very large country, and just by the nature of our American lives, sometimes, we feel very removed from what is actually happening in the world. Knowing someone from Egypt, brought that one home for us. 

I found out yesterday, that one of our good college friends, who is an incredible horn player and may be the funniest person I've ever been around, has Carcinoid cancer and has been diagnosed since June of 2009. I was shocked and felt ashamed that I hadn't kept better tabs on both he and his wife. John and I speak of them often, but we just haven't kept in touch! I am sending positive, healing vibes to you right now, Tom!!! 

My mom has had a couple of mishaps in the last few days. She's 82 and does very well, but...a change in medication caused her to become shaky and forgetful...not a good combination when you live on your own at that age. She fell at 11p.m. and even though she had the phone right there, she couldn't remember any of my siblings numbers who live there in town, to call and get help. She didn't hurt herself, thank goodness, but she stayed in the floor until 4 a.m....when she could finally remember my sister's phone number. Then...on Tuesday, the day before my 44th birthday, she called me in the morning and sang "Happy Birthday" to me. I just laughed and said "Thanks, Mom!  but...it's tomorrow!" She laughed and said "Oh hell, I'm a day off!" I just figured with the snow days and her not being able to get out she was just confused on her days. Later that night, about 4:45p.m. I called her just to chat for a few minutes. We talked for about 10 minutes, laughed about her calling me that morning and singing to me a day early, talked about the weather and when it was going to warm up! We hung up with our I love yous and miss yous. At 5:15p.m. my phone rang. It was Mom and I figured she had called back to tell me something she'd forgotten to mention- which we both do a lot of the time! When I answered the phone, she said "Hon, I forgot to wish you Happy Birthday."........my heart stood still.....I could barely catch my breath. My mom, who has always been at the core of who I am, and from whom came any goodness that is in me, and all of the compassion that I have, was obviously very, very confused. After talking with her and discussing what had happened and talking with my sisters and sister in law, it was obvious that it was the new medicine. Mom agreed that this didn't start until she started the new med. The shakiness, weakness, and forgetfulness was all because of an unnecessary medicine. And now, that she's not taking it, she's back to normal! She told me yesterday, "that stuff was making me crazy." The worst part for me came when she said "I hope I don't have Alzheimer's." Which of course, was my very first, initial thought, but immediately dismissed it because of knowing about her meds and she has NEVER shown signs of any kind of dimentia or Alzheimer's. But, I hated the sound of her voice when she said it. She was scared, and I never want that for her. Never.
 
That medicine isn't something that is necessary for her right now, she's off of it and will go to her doctor's appointment next week as scheduled. I thank God for keeping her "safe" during these past couple of weeks while she's been taking that stuff. It's very difficult living three and a half to four hours away. I want to take care of her and give back all that she has given to me. For now, I'm glad she's back to her ol', funny, charismatic self! I'll be going home to visit for a few days very soon. 

So...here's to the Egyptians...may you all live in peace and harmony. 

Here's to Tom, Jenny and their family...may you heal in body and spirit and bask in the love that is being sent to you.

And...here's to my mom... and I'm stealing from Mr. Spock, but it fits...Live long and prosper and know that you are the teacher who taught me the most important things about life and because of you, I am capable of living, laughing and loving.

Could somebody please mop my brow?

Have you ever- all of a sudden -  had that sickening feeling in your stomach, your blood runs cold, your hands start sweating and you feel like you've forgotten to do something, or you've messed something up, or you can't remember what you already did? That has happened to me a couple of times over the last week or so. I get up and check my calendar, look at the bank accounts, figure out if I've left the coffee pot on or the oven or stove...and then...it's done. It's a very INTENSE and uncomfortable feeling and I don't like it one bit. How can my blood feel like it's coursing through my veins carrying ice daggers and at the same time I break out into a sweat and my face and ears are burning? How can I feel perfectly fine, warm, comfortable and happy one minute and the next I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin and need to bitch slap the newscasters on KY3?? I mean....I don't even know those nice people! Why do I want to yank the phone cord from the wall every time the phone rings? I can actually feel the vibrations in my body from the phones ringing. I've turned them down, I've moved them...the next step is to put them in the street for the snow plows to run over. Why do I feel this way????? I'll tell you how...it's freakin' hormones. Commercials and Oprah make me shed a tear, I think chocolate needs to be added to that fucking food pyramid, the sound of John's fingers clicking on the keys of his computer sends me into a "rigor" (thank you to Elaine Hand, who was my mentor and best friend in Texas for teaching me that one!) and the knowledge that this is all just temporary is not very consoling to me! I'm thinking that for the next few years, I'm going to armor myself against this onslaught with some very important weapons. I will make sure that I am eating healthy foods high in antioxidants, nutrients and vitamins, I will drink only water, tea, some coffee and maybe tart cherry juice, I will swim for exercise and stay positive about life. I'll also try to cut out most if not all processed foods... Oh yeah, and eat dark chocolate. Damn pyramid. Wait....ok, I gotta go...the phone is ringing and I've got to put my coat and boots on because I can also hear the snow plow.

Prepare This!

Today I'm turning 44 years old. I usually don't enjoy birthdays much....just like any other day except the realization that I'm one year older and still haven't made a big enough difference in the world! However, today is a little different. First of all, I get to spend this birthday at home...with John. It's a work day for him, but it's a snow day so he gets to stay home with me! I've already had a phone call from Michele, Kendrick and Camille who also have a snow day and so they sang "Happy Birthday" to me over the phone which was adorable! I love hearing little kid voices singing! When I turned 40, I truly felt terrible about it. I was miserable dealing with the RA and I just had this feeling of...how shall I say it...my life sucks. I don't feel like that now, I've learned how to cope with things that are out of my control- instead of stressing over them-I'm trying to stay positive and just let shit happen. I've never been a worrier and I don't want to be. But there is something to say about being prepared and I suppose that's what I am now...prepared. I prepared last week for Snowmaggedon, I prepare lunch and dinner, I prepare myself for good news, bad news and everything in between, I prepared myself for this 44th birthday, I prepare myself to brace against the pain of standing up for the first time in the mornings, I prepare for John to go to work, come home from work, I prepare to pay bills, I prepare to play piano or sing, I prepare to teach music...I've come to the conclusion that we are all the same...we are all prepared and we are all worriers. It only differs in how each of us individually reacts to the hours of preparedness that consumes our lives. For me, for today...I'm prepared to be loved. I'm going to enjoy the warmth, smiles, hugs, phone calls, cards, skypes, emails, FB postings, food, cake, and yes, a celebratory Crown and Diet Coke...(which is a true treat since I don't drink soda!!!). Today, I have prepared to be ME.

Superbowl and SuperHugh

So today is Superbowl Sunday. I'm not particularly a football fan...actually, you'd think I'd be a football expert after having spent most of my life in or directing marching bands and halftime shows. But alas, I am not. I hardly know anything about football. So now here we are. Americans who are and aren't football fans begin the day with thoughts of dips, chips, steaks, brats, various kinds of salads, chili, taco bars, beanie weenies and desserts for every sweet tooth's dream! I didn't make tailgate fair this morning...instead, I had some left over roast so I made home made beef vegetable soup. John just asked me if I had tasted it yet and I haven't, but he said, and I quote..."Oh, damn, it's delicious!" In my book, if someone describes your cooking with an expletive in the grammar of the sentence, it's a good thing! 

I think it's funny watching the pre-game tailgating and the movie stars and famous singers/bands that get interviewed as they show up. It brings a little smile to my face to watch them fidget uncomfortably as they are getting ready to be interviewed just because they are famous. They aren't prepped on the questions, I don't believe... and watching them makes me want to pull a Mystery Science Theater 2000, turn the sound down and then talk over their answers with what their faces are actually betraying their mouths and saying! That would be a hilarious show. Hugh Jackman was the only one that looked relaxed and comfortable...but in my opinion, he could be covered in shit, ready to be eaten by a pride of lions and he'd still look... "comfortable."(hot) Sure, that's the word I'll use... :)

I really don't have a preference for who wins today. I like the Packers because I like their cheese head foamy things and I think that Vince Lombardi was probably a person I would have liked to have known and from whom I probably could have learned a lot and of course, I always associate the Packers with him. The Pittsburgh Steelers, well, good luck to them too...It really doesn't matter to me. 

I will say this, after the super bowl is over, is when I begin doing things to get ready for Spring. I'm done with snowmaggedon and freezing assed temperatures. It's time for me to start thinking about flower pot plantings, laying in the sunshine, the smell of chlorinated swimming pool water, and... well, Hugh Jackman.

So be it.

Will someone please tell me why the toilet paper dispensers are so low on the wall in public restrooms? Even if you are a small or very short person, you can't reach them very well. You have to bend down and twist your wrist to get up into the dispenser to try and grab the paper... I don't get it. Plus the fact that the paper doesn't rip correctly-it's either so tight on the dispenser that you get one little tattered square, or so loose on it that half of the roll is coming out super fast and touching the gross floor so you can't use it anyway!

And this is to those of you who are Barnes and Noble Chair Hogs!!! If you want to read a novel...go to the library...don't sit in the middle of B & N and read an entire book. Go to the cafe IN B & N and read it...but don't sit in the big, comfy chairs to read a book...those are for BROWSING books that you might like to purchase! Well, at least that's what I think. There are those of you out there who literally sit there for hours on end reading like it's your living room...and some of you bring your own books...you didn't even buy them at B & N! I'm going to invent a electrical device much like that on those dog collars...if your ass is in one of those chairs for 30 minutes, when the timer hits 31.00...an electrical zap will enter into your ass and deem you paralyzed for 10 seconds. It will continue this process until you get out of the chair and one of the workers resets it.


Now, let's talk about slow cashiers. Bless their hearts. (That's what I learned to say when we taught in Texas...you say "bless their heart"...when someone is on your nerves but you don't want them to know you are being mean.)


There are three kinds of slow cashiers. #1. The Trainee. I find that these are actually the fastest of the slow cashiers because they usually have a manager type trainer that has a large ring of keys and a grimace on their face standing right with them to quickly fix whatever they have screwed up. #2.  The Talker. This is usually a really friendly female who asks you about the products or makes comments about the things you are purchasing. I'm just waiting for one of them to ask me while picking up a box of tampons to scan..."Do these work well?" And....#3.  This is the moron. How in the hell they got this job, I will never know. It can be a person of either sex, any age that is just slow moving, checking, talking and thinking. Not that I have anything against slow movers, talkers or thinkers...but please don't be a checkout cashier...ANYWHERE! I mean really... now that we have scanning machines...it's not that hard to get through a lot of merchandise quickly and efficiently. And...I'm NOT being mean about this. There are things we all should and shouldn't do. Like, I know that I should never be a nurse. I see or smell puke...I'm puking. I see snot, I gag. Excrement...I'm already out the door before anyone else even knows there's a problem. Plus, I think that sponge baths are creepy.

Just some thoughts from my messed up mind.