Down to one

I was given the task of sharing this coming Friday my favorite song and the why of it.  I have been whittling down my music since last Friday past, cause you know this is one assignment I am all over, no hesitation whatsoever.  There has been major thought going into this endeavor, I have close to 8,000 songs.  I have gotten it down to 75.  That in my book is a major feat.

And it's all good

Give me one reason

They, I really don't know who "they" are, say before you can love someone else you have to love yourself.  They also say that you have to take care of yourself before you can take care of someone else.  I had never agreed with with that before, now not so much.  I can't put the oxygen mask on my child before I put it on me.  I need the oxygen in order to save them.  I have to be able to love me before I can love.  It may seem simplistic and even  a bit selfish, but it is the truth.

And I'll turn right back around

Stellaluna

It is Black Cat Appreciation Day......or Adoption Day


I decided to post pics of our kitty.....

We think that she could be half a bat...

Don't wait up for me

They say the worse thing you can do to yourself is to stay stuck.  To ruminate.  Go over and over.  Take every word, action, response, and dissect them for meanings.  Sometimes the answer is no answer.  An answer that will never satisfy what you need to understand.  Sometimes there is no understanding or comprehension.  You must just accept and move on.  For yourself.




It's going to be a long walk home

Forks on the left

As a parent, I have found my Mom speaking from my mouth instructing my kids the proper way to use and hold a knife and fork, they each had their own utensils.  Andrew and Gabriella had been taught how to use a knife and the proper way to hold a fork.  They both know how to set the table.  I am going to say that I have this major big habit, and it is not good, I watch the way people hold their forks, hold a knife while cutting, and whether or not they switch their fork after cutting.  I find myself wondering if some people have always held a spoon like it was a shovel or pick up a piece of meat with their fork and bite at it.  I think are they going to teach their kids that?  I really have to stop looking.

I am going to have to work on this flaw.......


In my youth, I was never mindful of other kids table manners because, in truth, I don't really remember sitting at a table eating with any.  Sure there was the few cousins or our parents' friends kids that we sat and ate with, I remember the giggling and laughter, but I don't remember them holding silverware.  The only kids I truly remember dining with were my grandparents friends' offspring.  There was Henry. We never got to sit at the big table on Christmas Day as Henry did, but then again we did not speak Danish either.  He was never a real boy anyway, Henry would not play any games with us, he was way above us.  He had a beard at like 7, no joke, Henry graduated Princeton at 14, was a professor at 16, so no he was never a kid.  Henry's parents were Jutta and Fred.  Fred was just the sweetest.  Sure he was inebriated just as everyone else was, but he was always the happiest and friendliest.  Mor always said that Fred was dumb as a stump, but was the best person in the whole world.  Jutta was a wonderful cook and she could make a chocolate cake to die for.  It was from Jutta that Henry got his smarts from.  We were well behaved at Mor and Far's house.  I know that we respected them too much to be otherwise.  Then there was Emmy and Leif's grandkids. There was three of them and they had a Kiki too.  All of us were about the same age.  We spent a couple of weeks each year in the summer together in the country.  Just grandmothers and kids.  We went on day trips together, played games, ate at the table together, and they had the same manners as us.  The big major difference between us and them was we were rough and tumble, dirty and sweaty, and they were plaid and preppy.  They wore white and we had dirt rings around our ankles.  We swam in the creek and that was  beneath them.   I often wonder if Mor wanted us to be like more like them and less like us.  I guess I should have asked her.

the fates are against me

I will do the dance.....

a Vincent red Rapide

My very first little scoot, 1968 Honda 50.  I was 6....

I often think that it is way crazy that I still get stupid about riding my motorcycle.  I don't mean stupid as in lack of intelligence, wait maybe it is stupid cause there are an awful amount of people that can't drive cars out there let alone watch for motorcycles.  Truly I mean stupid as in silly or giddy.  It doesn't necessarily have to be mine, I love all motorcycles.  I prefer mine cause I can listen to tunes and carry my stuff, but I am by no means adverse to riding let's say a test ride motorcycle down in Daytona or in York, PA at the Open House.  I long to go on vacation on the motorcycle but it is not going to happen this summer, not even this fall, hopefully by spring next year we will be able to go.  Gabriella would like to come with us, maybe we could make it into a big family event.  I have to think on this.  This could be something that would be most excellent.

For as long as I can remember there have been motorcycles around me, growing up I can remember my Dad's '66 gold/white Triumph Bonneville.  I loved, loved, loved the tank rack, I don't know why.  He would put this flowered pillow in front of him and take Kiki and I for a ride (not together), Johnny would sit behind him because he was bigger.  I know that people say it is a big no-no to put the kid in front, but I never felt unsafe, never.  There was always conversations going on about all different brands of motorcycles, I must have been like a little sponge sucking it all in.  For some reason Vincent always stood out.  I love a Vincent.  If I had a one it would be in the living room.  I called my Dad, asked him if he ever had a Vincent, he didn't.  He had a great friend, Gene, that had a Vincent Black Shadow. 

Thinking about Gene made me think about growing up in Brooklyn.  Mostly everyone had a name and moniker, it was either something about your person or your profession.  Gene was "Gene the Mute".  He was deaf, "Vinny the Pinstriper", pinstriped cars and bikes at various places, and of course, my Dad "Bob the Garbageman", there were so many more. The monikers were pretty self-evident, I don't know if everyone had anything like this growing up and even as I got older and grown, everyone was somebody.  It made us who we are today.

In 2006, I purchased Mark Knopfler and EmmyLou Harris' "All the Roadrunning".  I enjoyed the album the first time I played it, but when it came to the song "Red Staggerwing", I was smitten.  The song invokes strong childhood memories, all good memories for me.  Actually it brings back memories from all points of life.  It is still one of my favorite LP's.  Of course, motorcycles too..

I'd ride around your house