Grandma Bronson

My Grandmother recently passed away. Jenny and I bought her paperwhites to keep in her room and this year at Christmas Jenny suggested that we grow them every winter to remember her.

She was strong at a time when many women were forced to be weak. She had a very difficult life at times. I have very clear memories of her clashing with my mom and not backing down. She had this frail little voice, especially near the end of her life, but her will never really fluctuated. She was always this force for me, outside of my immediate family.

I always knew that she was for me, even when she was completely disagreeing with something that I was doing. She never allowed herself to take a passive role in my life.

I love her. And, I miss her.

She was an artist and an intellect.

I will see you again Gram.

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Practice

It was good tonight to play with such great people and great musicians. It gives me hope for what could come. Thanks to everyone who came. For those not there, tonight we had two new singers, piano, violin, two guitars and bridget and I singing. I must say, it sound really nice.

its late...

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Home Alone

It's not true. My title to this prompt. I am never home alone. Someday, maybe in the future... someday, maybe I will have a bit of time to myself. But I really don't see that happening any time soon.
Jenny worked tonight. So, me and the kids. Which is fine. I am certainly not one of those work all day and commute home, eat supper and watch tv till I go to bed kind of Dad's. I absolutely hate it when Dad's refer to themselves as babysitting when their wives leave... totally offended. One of the big reasons I chose my profession was to have time with my family, and I love them. Just... sometimes...
I remember, when I was a kid, lying down in my room and watching the dust particles fly around in the sunbeams that shot above my bed. -Lets reiterate, I was lying down, and watching... dust particles twirl around.- And I look back with fondness, with feelings of some sort of lost utopia.
I don't need it all the time. Most of the time I am fine. Just somedays I would love a bit of silence. I don't turn on the the radio in my car anymore. I have a less than ten minute commute to work. I know that most people would kill for that. I do love it, no lie, but I really need some alone time sometimes.
And yet, I am feeling the need to tell you that when, at the end of the day, both of my little noise makers curl their little lima-bean-bodies into mine, and we read and they relax. There really is no better thing. . . just sometimes...

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Chaucer's first B-Day

So, today is Chaucer's official birthday. He turns one today. The kids were all excited about it. They wanted Hank, the neighbor's dog, to come over for his "party." Hank sometimes escapes his yard and wanders over here, and when he does, Chauc goes absolutely crazy. So, like a very good mom, Jenny called and they brought him over. Jen gave them both birthday bones.

We got Chauc in August this year. He was already pretty big... he is a "big" Chocolate Lab. We actually got him off of Craig's list believe it or not. He was in a house in Worcester, and they already had another dog and Chauc was too much trouble for them. So we bought him.

I knew that it would take some getting used to. The first day we had him, we decided that we weren't going to let him upstairs where our rugs are... the first floor is all wide pine floors. Well, that first afternoon, Nora wanted him to come upstairs, so against our decision, I let him. Five minutes later, diarrhea all over the rugs. Unbelievable. I spent the next half hour cleaning and recleaning the rugs. Jenny spent equal time cleaning after letting me know, in no uncertain terms, how stupid I was.

Fortunately, that is the only time that happened. He is sleeping on the rug right at my feet in our bedroom as I type this. He is a really good dog. He is all love... for months I didn't think he could bark. After a bit though, I heard him. I guess he barks when we leave for a while.

I have had equal success and failure with training him so far. I bought a wired, in-ground invisible fence and boy do I love it. Chaucer hit the thing a couple times, and now I don't even have to put a collar on him at all... he completely knows his boundaries.
He still doesn't crap in the woods though... right in the yard. If any of you know a good way to train him on that one, I am completely open for advice... (please).

The biggest asset he has become is with our kids. They both completely love him. Nora seriously rides him like a horse. They both look forward to seeing him first thing in the morning. He sleeps right next to Nora's bed some nights. Although, we have radiant heat downstairs, so on these cold nights, you can mostly find him down there. I've actually considered joining him... ah those heated floors!

He is sweet and loyal and kinda dumb. He knows how to sit and lay down and he comes every time I call. He is absolutely crazy about dog treats. He jumps into any body of water near him. He dug up some flowers in the front yard, destroyed the spotlight, tore apart the rope ladder on the kids swing set. But how can you hate on a dog that drapes himself over your feet any time you sit down. He is a great addition to our family.

Happy First Birthday Chauc!

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hidden

I was walking Chaucer when I got home from work, and instead of walking the dirt roads in Rutland State Park, I chose to walk the periphery of the fields that stretch all throughout that part of the park. We walked for about an hour and there were deer paths shooting off all over the place so I followed one especially prominent one. It lead to this thicket of twisting old vines, and I kept losing the path and finding it again. It finally ended at this mammoth pile of stones that must have been carted away from the fields when the prisoners farmed this area.

It got me to thinking about what is around us that is manmade and what is made by other things, wild things, things that we are in no way in control of. I was playing around with a poem while I walked home... something about the reclaiming of the wild. The deer taking back what we struggled for and our indifference to it all... our willing unawareness. We think they live at our discretion... but maybe it isn't that way, maybe they are just waiting to take it all back, slowly reclaim it all right under our noses.

The Soup Group

I am a bit nervous. This is the last of my weekly rituals to write about. After this... who knows? On Monday nights I go to a Bible Study at the McRell's in Holden. This is really no normal Bible study. Its really a no-holds-barred look at Christianity and culture. There is no questions beyond the scope of our conversation... tonight's topic was a perfect example, the subjugation of women both inside and outside the walls of Christianity.

As with all good things, what it really boils down to is the people who are with you. While the topics and opinions can fly all over the place, it is the real friendships that I have with all of the people that come that make it so special.

Someone makes some sort of soup... someone brings some sort of wine... someone makes some sort of bread.... and we all sit and talk while all of our kids progressively rip apart Sara's kid's room.

In truth, I didn't know if I would be able to find friends that I hold this close at this stage in my life. It gets more difficult as you get older, and I am not exactly easy to get to know. It is a special group of people that allow for the differences in opinion that we share, and allow for the full strengths of those opinions to be aired without fault. It is a rare find in the world at large and almost an impossibility within the Christian Church.

It should be known that the picture doesn't include everyone that fills Sara and Kevin's living room once a week. It can range upward of around 20 or so people some weeks.
I love our tiny ragtag group of thinkers... I love the closeness that we share.
I love Monday nights.

Uncharacteristic

Of all the things that I do semi-regularly, this is by far the strangest... for me at least. Here is some background first:

When I was in high school, I was completely lost. I mean really lost. As in, I had no idea what was going on and lived a semi-panicked life-style, drifting from one social tragedy to the next. Lets just say that I don't have many good memories from any of my teen years.

When I was in tenth grade, this guy named Kris befriended me. He was, and still is a great guy, and as quickly as I could, I hid under his personality. He was a singer and a keyboardist and I picked up a second hand bass guitar, put stripes of black electrical tape in random pattern on it, and grew my hair nice and long. The thing was, I barely played bass. I did like music, but the "band" bit, for me, was pretty much all external.

During that time however, I did develop a love of drums. After high school, when all of that school stuff dissolved, my love of music/drumming stayed. I kept on playing while my social life shifted around and new groups of friends phased in and out. I actually, eventually got to where I could hold my own.

Later, to foil the plotting of a soccer captain named Ash from taking my girlfriend while she was at college at Temple, (a strategy that ended up working by the way) I moved to Washington DC for a while. It was closer to her than Massachusetts and I had friends living there that graciously allowed me to stay with them. While I was there, I picked up guitar.

I am, at heart, a hermit. I would love nothing better than to be by myself for a long, long time. One of the best vacations I have ever had involves me camping alone, without any human interference for a week. I don't do well with crowds. My students might argue this, but teaching is a whole different thing... just trust me on that... Well, enough prattling on, here's the crux:

Every Sunday, I get up in front of a crowd of people and sing and play guitar. The picture is what I see once a week. It is so far out of my character it isn't even funny. I am not a spotlight kind of guy. But here I am, willingly, in front of people. I am slowly putting together a band. (We may have just picked up a keyboardist and another guitarist today and any bassists or drummers out there that are wanting to put in with a folk alternative vibe, please don't hesitate to contact me :) )I am practicing with a violinist. I have videos on youtube. I must ask myself every week where all of this came from.

There is definitely something in it for me. There must be or I wouldn't keep coming back to it. I love the oneness of being in a band with talented musicians. I love the anticipating of each other's moves. I love the build and languish in music. I love the intimacy that comes from being in a band. My new band is just beginning, and I just left a really solid group of incredibly talented musicians, that I miss. I can't wait for all of those perks to come alive again.

So here I am, with Bridget by my side (a very talented singer), every week, completely out of my element, and willing myself to keep going. Life is strange and can take you so far away from who you tell yourself you are, if you are brave enough to let it.

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