Tiny Tuesday!


Another tiny box came to us at Christmas, this one from Tom’s parents. It contained a USB flash drive of 1700 photos and documents related to their family history. I can only imagine how daunting it was for the two of them to take on that project: going through photos, reading documents and letters, and scanning/cropping all their choices.

I can’t even manage to get my solo stuff organized, and I also have many things relating to my parents and our family genealogies. I did get my parents’ home movies onto VHS tapes for everyone once (siblings, nephews, nieces, sister-in-law), and I have no idea if anyone watched or kept them. And now the original films are gone, and we need to find someone who can move our lone tape to something more tech-updated, if the VHS will even play.

Tom has saved all his family material to his computer, and I hope he and his siblings, who received their own flash drives, enjoy journeying through their family’s near and distant past.

Mood: Monday

I previously posted a photo of a painting in oil and paper on canvas by John O’Donoghue, Piano Takes Centre Stage.

This is one of the paintings I found a week ago as I was writing a chapter featuring my Musician. The scene I created reminded me of a time long ago. I’d been living back in an area near my (two) hometowns after graduating from college. When I was driving through one of those towns, I saw a sign on a local bar announcing that my old friend Riley would be playing there.

We’d lost touch; I heard and knew things about his life, but I generally followed the adage let sleeping dogs lie. Some friendships are meant for a place and time, and then they fade away. I went home and wrote a poem of eight verses that summed up those earlier years of friendship.

A few lines, near the end:

I’d believed your music would always last
Then for a time thought you’d left it behind
But I knew I’d given up too fast
When I saw your name on the roadside sign

© Becky Cochrane, 1979

The full poem was sad, wistful, and now rereading it, I see it conveys truths I’d forgotten of how people other than us damaged the friendship. Maybe we’d let that happen because we thought it was time to put away childish things.

I couldn’t stop thinking of him. It wasn’t a romance thing. We were both married. I wondered to Lynne if I should go see him play. She and a friend of hers offered to go with me. So we did.

I don’t remember if he was playing piano when we got there, or guitar. But it was surely when he was playing guitar that he glanced out at the tables and… I would wish everyone in life could just once see someone look out with shock, with disbelief, that turns to wonder, and then to utter joy at the sight of you.

It was the resurrection of a friendship that wouldn’t stop until the day he did, on this date, January 16, 2008. There are a million stories; some I’ve told here, some I never will. But for a brief moment, in my novel, I got to bring my amazing friend to life again using a character who is unlike him in almost every way except talent.

Riley will always be alive in my heart and my art. These are the last four lines of that old poem.

Maybe nothing ever really ends —
Life is filled with twists, with bends —
Life is lovely when it sends —
Guitars, pianos, drums, and friends —
© Becky Cochrane, 1979

Button Sunday

Wikipedia was launched by Jimmy Wales on January 15, 2001, and its birthday is celebrated each year on Wikipedia Day. I don’t know how you plan to celebrate, but I’ll do what I do every day: Use Wikipedia for research, research, research for my fiction.

Information is accessible to all and is free, but it’s wise to remember that Wikipedia is a user-generated site. Anyone can input, remove, and edit information. It’s where I start, and then I find other sources to corroborate my findings. I’m mostly looking for cultural and historical information related to certain time periods, and I can do it from my own space with any device that gets Internet, no matter how weird my schedule is.

If I made a list of everything I’ve researched in the last two hours…

Thank you, Wikipedia, and happy birthday!

ETA: Today’s do-over consisted of some better equipment to play music to write to. I did write (and started work on a coloring page when I needed to stop to think), and here was the playlist. I got through the “A” artists in the first binder.

Adele, “Nineteen”; Adele, “Twenty-One”; Allman Brothers Band, “Martin Scorcese Presents The Blues: The Allman Brothers Band”; Allman Brothers Band, “A Decade of Hits 1969 – 1979”; Fiona Apple, “Tidal”

It’s funny that the three female vocalists are Tom’s, and the Allman Brothers are mine. This is a case where we each enjoy music the other has purchased. (Gregg Allman’s music is downloaded into my iTunes library.)

Audio

This is the cabinet tucked in next to the fireplace in the library.

The old gentleman from whom we bought the Hall back in December 2015 had his stereo equipment there, wired to two speakers on opposite walls in the library, and two speakers in the area that became our home office. It was nice to have the set-up, so we put our stereo equipment there, too. Only one of the speakers in the library worked, so Tom removed the other one. If we use the fireplace, we have to keep the cabinet door open at least a few inches so it doesn’t get too warm inside.

Top shelf holds the turntable and six-disk CD player. If you notice CD jewel cases on the top shelf, when I buy CDs in plastic, I return the cases to one of our local shops that sells used CDs for them to reuse. (Less plastic in landfills.)

Second shelf is the receiver, and YEP, an actual cassette player. Maybe I should have held on to some of those cassettes because they matched a lot of the albums that drowned in the Harvey flood, and I still haven’t replaced them on either vinyl or CD. (How I mourn my Bob Dylan, John Mellencamp, and vast Beach Boys collections.)

Next shelf down contains the four CD binders with the disks and sleeves all saved: A to J, K to R, S to Z, and number four, unlabeled, is classical, Christmas, and I think soundtracks and scores. There are also CD collections on that shelf that came packaged in cardboard with booklets and other bonus materials. The BIG collections like that–almost all reissued compilations, in my case, from the Beach Boys and Beatles with lots of previously unreleased material–are large enough to be part of the albums that are UP HIGH on a metal, more flood-safe bookcase in the office (learned my lesson in 2017!).

The houndstooth box on the bottom shelf holds a lot of those CDs in cardboard sleeves as well, the normal CD length and width, just sometimes thicker for multi-disk collections. The space to the left of that box stays empty because that’s where we reach in to turn the knob that ignites the gas logs in the fireplace (it’s a two-person job: one person to turn on the gas while the other holds a flame to the logs–though I can sometimes place one of those long fireplace matches, lit, under the logs and do it solo).

I got an idea from John, our longtime friend who Tim first met when they worked together at Crossroads Bookstore, and who left there when it closed for Borders, and when Borders closed, he found the perfect home at Murder By The Book. He’s decided to choose an album a day to play from his vinyl collection so he can listen to music he might not have heard in a while.

Now that I’ve moved one of my old “jam boxes” to the writing sanctuary, I’ve decided to try this with our CDs. I’m sure there will be some I don’t listen to, like collections that were gifts and aren’t really to my taste, or some of Tom’s CDs, because we don’t always appreciate the same music. =) Sometimes I can’t have music playing when I write (if I do, it’s more often classical or New Age), because it becomes a distraction, but I’d like to attempt to listen to what we have and revisit old favorites. If I start this today, it appears I’ll be listening to Fiona Apple and a lot of Beach Boys and Beatles. I’m sure this surprises you.

Maybe I’ll add the daily playlist at the bottoms of posts after the fact. Eventually, you can marvel at all the things you think I don’t have and all the things I do have that you think are crap (to each her own, friends and strangers)… But keep in mind this doesn’t include all the music downloaded to my computer or my vinyl (including my fun 45s from my siblings’ and my adolescence!), so this isn’t the full library.

I genuinely don’t have any more 8-Tracks or cassettes, though, and I never had a reel-to-reel like so many musicians and music lovers I’ve known. C’est la vie.

ETA: I did get to listen to Fiona Apple and found some other “A” artists in the back of that binder. But this is the second CD player that’s had some issues once I started using it, and this one began making a noise that took away any listening pleasure when I put in Adele. I might be interested in buying something else, but Mercury’s in retrograde. I don’t feel like throwing money at yet another device that will crap out. I already deal with daily tech problems. Can’t use the big system because then Tom can’t watch/hear the TV. So I’m music-free again.

I think of the days of real headphones, not tiny things that stick in my ears and make them hurt, but those wonderful, soft, cushiony headphones that not only delivered gorgeous music, they blocked out all other sounds. I’m old and obsolete, like everything else.

Spotted in the ‘hood

I thought I had a photo of this overpass, which was since painted over, and I think has been painted again somewhere in a different style and place, but regardless, this used to be on I45 Southbound near downtown Houston. I haven’t driven that route in the past few years.

Tom came home the other day and said a house a few blocks away in our neighborhood is having repair/renovation/remodel of some sort, and he told me about the dumpster in the driveway. Today I went to see it for myself, and I shot this photo. I don’t know who owns that company, but I love that they put this iconic image with Houston’s skyline on a piece of their equipment.

Really shocked right now to read the news about Lisa Marie Presley. I’m so sad for her mother and children. That family has known too much tragedy.

Woohoo Wednesday!


My 2023 planner came. It’s inspirational and funny and quirky. I’ve been catching it up from Jan 1 until today with my daily doings and writing progress and using the photos and commentary from Patti Smith’s Book Of Days to nudge me in various directions of memories and thoughts.

It’s been a long time since I kept a date book. I’ve been mostly discreet with what I put on this blog because of my privacy and more importantly, other people’s. When I go back through my old date books and planners, there’s a lot of good info in them! Even these days, living a sheltered quarantine life, things are always happening.

Too bad I didn’t video myself putting on the monthly tabs for the comedy of it all. First, the tabs were going down the side at the beginning of each month, but it was aesthetically displeasing. I kept redoing it, and it felt like I needed to do geometry to space stuff right. I don’t do math unless I have to.

I was getting so frustrated when I suddenly started giggling and thinking, This will be probably the most UNIMPORTANT part of this planner. Make it easy on yourself. I promptly put them on the top–in exactly the worst place because of the elastic band that holds the book closed. 🙄 Moved them to the left and don’t give a flip if they’re all aligned and perfect. Can’t remember me ever personally being aligned and perfect. This planner and I were made for each other, and I can’t thank its creator, Adam J. Kurtz, enough for being exactly who he is.

Tiny Tuesday!

After a bad night’s sleep that’s absolutely not Anime’s fault, though she is the reason (she’s fine! no worries!), I was mostly a slug when I woke up. Debby had bought a store-made quiche from Whole Foods and brought over a couple of slices for Tom and me to have as breakfast today. It was delicious noonish with a salad I had left over from last night. But it wasn’t a lot of food, and about four, I got peckish. It wasn’t a picnic kind of day (writing schedule, state of outdoors, etc.), but I decided I wanted to create a sense of “treat yourself” using a picnic for one.


Right to left, those are some delicious seedless grapes, pita crackers, Old Wisconsin turkey sausage bites, and a chocolate-covered cherry. After I shot this photo and began to eat, I realized it wasn’t a picnic for one at all.

I used a small wooden board that was either part of some gift basket received in the past or an employee gift exchange package at one of my former workplaces. As I filled it, I thought of work friends from Christmases past.

I put the board on a cotton Ekelund Weavers mat which was a gift from Sweden sent by my friend/sister of the heart/college roommate Debbie sometime in the 1990s. Beautifully woven and titled “Long Dogs,” it’s been tucked away in a cabinet for years. I wonder why we put cherished items away to save for a special occasion and then forget them. Today, I reminded myself that every day is a special occasion, especially when things conjure up people you love who love you, too.

The grapes and pita crackers came from Sprouts, where Debby had asked me a couple of months ago to take her the next time I went (she’d never shopped there). She loves fresh produce, as do I, and theirs is organic and aesthetically pleasing, so we made a trip there this week.

The turkey sausage bites came from a gift pack that included several meats and cheeses sent to Tom by one of his sisters for his birthday. The chocolate-covered cherry means I finally opened the box of them that Tom gave me at Christmas, a yearly offering he took over from my mother after she died.

My “solo” picnic was filled with other people and lots of memories. Tiny moments, tiny treats, can loom large in adding happiness to our days.

Mood: Monday

I previously posted a photo of the oil and paper on canvas work, Guitar Solo, by artist John O’Donoghue.

I’ve fallen in love with John O’Donoghue’s work. On part of the printed material on this painting are the words “I want to run…hide…” I had already been thinking of a post for 1/16, sharing photos from my past, that would begin, “Do you ever want to run away to, and hide in, a certain moment from among your memories…”

Later, unrelated, I began searching Google images for something for today’s post, using the search term “art with guitar in the title.” This painting caught my eye from among many, and only after I decided to use it did I realize it contains lines from U2’s “Where the Streets Have No Name,” tying it in theme, if not level of talent, to a painting I did last year in honor of a character–all of which I’ll talk about more on my post a week from now, which is also a Monday. Probably I should have saved this entire thing for then, but I was so excited to discover a new-to-me artist, marveling again at the way the Universe assists us when we ask for and are open to answers. I’ll use another of O’Donoghue’s paintings on that post that more closely matches the memories I plan to share.

Hope you tune in again on the 16th for my follow-up.