Many years ago I was chatting with some musician friends before their concert, and I remember the extreme frustration that occurred when, minutes before they were to go on stage, their bassist called to cancel. I remember thinking they were over-reacting a little, because really, does anyone even notice the bass thudding along in the background? I mean, I get it if Sting calls and tells the Police he's got a little stomach bug, perhaps you think about rescheduling, but in general, the bass player seems pretty expendable. Then for some reason, a few months ago, I started really paying attention to the bass line, especially in songs that start without it, then build to include it. It DOES matter. It does make the sound richer and more interesting. It does turn an average melody into something rather anthemic. I try to point things like this out to the kids when we are listening to music in the car. The other day I was flipping through radio stations, and I happened on the opening bars of "Free Bird." "Hey everyone!" This is the song that Freebirds the restaurant is named after!" So they thought that was pretty nifty, and we listened to it the entire way home from the zoo because it is a really long song. At the end, I asked what they thought and I think they were a little confused that there weren't any lyrics about kids who like rice and beans stuffed in a fat burrito.
We went to "toddler skate" at a roller rink last Friday. Harper got to use her skates, Hudson zoomed around on his scooter, and Helena pushed her stroller around and stole stuffed animals from other kids while they weren't looking. I got a total of 4 pictures and, believe it or not, this is the best of the lot:
Harper and Hudson's rooms have both undergone Extreme Makeovers thanks to the husband, who stepped in because he saw a wife in need of mercy. In case you have forgotten, here is the retina-searing before shot:
And the after:
He also vacuumed AND dusted to spare me from the anaphylaxis that tends to ensue when I have to deep clean.
Ikea, we thank thee:
Thy storage solutions, they comfort me, and bring me peace. Amen.
2 comments:
Loved "Traveling Mercies." It's very raw and yes, gritty and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
And amen for Ikea and organization.
So glad you're reading Traveling Mercies. Of her three faith books, it's by far the best. But a close competitor is Operating Instructions, which was written as a journal, of sorts, of Sam's first year. Granted, I read it when I had a 4-6 week old baby, but I still reflect about several of her raw and openly honest stories.
Wendy and I spent a day together this week. It was wonderful, and far too short. Wendy can make me miss Houston because I so often miss her.
I wish I was blogging and commenting more, but the heat has gotten to me. I'm sapped, and pray for a hurricane. It is, supposedly, the only force able to break the high pressure system of unyielding and record-breaking temps and would drench the sun-parched land. Bring it on.
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