“In the right corner we have Reddy Right Brain, his opponent, on the left is Creative Carl.”

Ugh! There is truth to the matter that some people are both right and left brained, but those of us that are, are often asked, “What would you rather be?” Immediately, I would answer “left brained” so I could be left alone to dally in my own creations. My world of gnomes and wizards and dragons. My world of making jewelry and collecting art and cooking and fun, pretty stuff. But no-o-o-o, not me, just as soon as I get in the groove, I’m yanked out to, (cue in music here) da-duh-duh…REALITY! And, my husband wonders why I’m so nutsoid! Go figure!

I guess, it’s a wonderful thing that I am able to escape to my “wonderland” but I do turn into the Red Witch–would spell it another way but do not want to be censored, or have a contract terminated,– when I am yanked out because of someone else’s incompetence that I am left having to fix. Boy, does it get ugly when the Sicilian rears its ugly head! Not saying that Sicilian’s are ugly, of course. They are beautiful, but highly emotional people who are fantastic cooks!

I actually don’t mind putting on my red shirt, I rather love the color, if I can be of help, but don’t make me do a job for which I get no payment of any kind! Give me a chocolate bar and I’m thrilled, but don’t spit on it first! You know what I mean? I think that’s why I write children’s books. They’re so gratifying!

 

You have to kiss a lot of frogs…

After 16 years of being together, I can honestly tell you he never ceases to amaze me.  My husband Gary, is not a romantic.  Not much of a gift buyer. I dare say that if you asked him my favorite ice cream flavor, he wouldn’t know.  Anniversaries, not.  Birthdays, maybe.  Valentine’s Day. sometimes.  Support and love. Always.

We’ve had a rough 16 years.  Deaths, illnesses…for better or worse. Who knew that we’d be together 24/7 since the year after we were married. I didn’t sign up for that.  Difficult. You betcha! Worthwhile.  Every minute. And, every day there’s a new surprise.

Saturday, my sweet man made special arrangements to get my beautiful piano tuned.  It’s a beauty.  A handmade Charles Walter concert console piano.  It’s signed and numbered and could put a Steinway grand to shame.  I have not touched it for 12 years.  Like my skis, which were extremely difficult to part with, it’s a constant reminder of something I loved to do and cannot.  So, my beloved piano beautifully and regally sits in the living room reduced to a holder of knick-knacks and at Christmas, a collection of Hallmark animated music boxes. Soon, it will go to our grandson, Sammy. But, this Saturday, it got some love and attention.  The piano technician, “oohed” and “ahhhed” over her while she was lovingly and carefully tuned.  Each string touched and adjusted by expert hands that I watched, like a mama hawk, making sure that those babies were not over stressed.  A bittersweet two hours knowing that she was receiving much deserved care but knowing I couldn’t play her.

My hands have atrophied to the point that my fingers can no longer depress the keys of my beautiful girl.  Nor, are they receiving the message from my muscles to be coordinated enough to play.  Even as I type, I use only my left hand and one finger on my right hand.  My hands get incredibly cold and cramp up. Something I can live with while typing but not playing the piano. It was never an effortless task, practiced for hours and hours on end, but the result was worth it.  And now, I have those memories.

My husband never really knew the quality of the piano…he had never heard me play. Also, he is not musically inclined.  When he saw Dan, our newly acquired “piano man” and friend ogle the piano, he suddenly realized that there might be something to my love for her. When he heard Dan play her, his mouth fell open.  Not so much because of Dan’s skill as a pianist but because my girl makes anyone sound good!

So, the next morning, my prince says to me, “Might want to change clothes, we’re having some guests today.”

“Huh? It’s Sunday.”

My favorite catch up day. Read emails, FB, WordPress, Twitter, jewelry and write…uninterrupted! Not this Sunday.  So, I changed from “more casual,” to just “casual.” About two o’clock, I closed down my computer after writing another 2000 for the “…the Elusive Sea” and the doorbell rings.  In comes my neighbor’s teenager (whom I love) and her two friends.  They introduce themselves and tell me that they’ve come to give me a private piano concert! Gary is grinning ear to ear.

P.S. A violin was thrown in the mix.  It was amazing!

 

 

 

But Wait!

My husband writes great emails to his sister and brothers. He is also famous for his “Gary-isms.” I thought this one was worth publishing!

Subject: Torpedo deicer ( de icer )

Ummm guys, hello, just the mentioning of using a torpedo space heater to deice a car called Dream Boat followed by a comment stating it was “fortunate that the paint didn’t melt off” can only end with these well known TV words: BUT WAIT -THERE’S MORE! But real trouble starts when you are too trusting. A person could read your e-mail, reinterpret its innocence then run amok. Not to worry Sis, I won’t Veer from the facts as I SEE THEM.

All the videos of the shows called Worlds Dumbest, Americas Funniest Videos, Famous Last Words, What Were They Thinking, Etc., all have the same paths= innocent looking lead in, a few clues of doom only the home viewer sees, passing thru stage where any HALF SANE person would see this obviously ain’t gonna work, onward to the universal last words of HEY WATCH THIS ! Then the oh no oh no x¥%#{>€^*¥£€!!!!!

Soooo, which show are you two and Dream Boat going to be on?

Its too late now but I’m curious as to which of these News At 11:00 lead ins should we have looked for: Paint endures heat but burning tires ruin car, melting ice puts out car fire, neighbors say “they are a bit strange, from up north ya know, cup is a mason jar, falls off driveway, Mr brilliant frequently mutters Jane lets go, brother in a barrel, rumor of family zoo,”

As I said. Facts as I see them.

Any thoughts of getting thoughts from other brothers? I bet the true/full meaning of running amok would be oh so evident.

Later,
Gary