Category Archives: Goals and Dreams

Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Music and Theatre, Spiritual Well Being

The covert bassist

November 1, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

The Covert Bassist

So. I’ve been learning to pay the bass – for about eight months. No amp. No teacher. Just reading the books and the notes and learning. She is home now. Home from six months of backpacking and back country rangering and so the dance of living in a music house begins again.

I wait until she goes off to noontime martial arts class before I practice my vocal exercises because I don’t want to scream her ears off and I am trying to break through that barrier, to give it more, to be a better, stronger vocalist than I have ever been before. I play piano in the evenings. Often with the door ajar. Piano I have under my belt so it is a good thing to share with the neighbors; not so my siren wailing. Once the door is closed, I woodshed on the guitar. Anytime of day I can play the bass because I don’t have an amp. So really, I can’t play the bass when someone else – like the off-season ranger – is playing mandolin and singing at performance pitch. Actually, who would want to practice bass anyway when you can listen to such heartfelt and talented protest folk tunes coming from the other room.

Let’s rethink that. Who wouldn’t want to play along to such anthems? Mandolin. Voice. The only logical complement to the sound is bass. Preferably upright bass. But here I am – the mom in the other room with a horizontal bass and no amp. An aspiring bassist who can’t help but move toward the music. So, I head to the kitchen. Two walls and the thickness of a closet between us.

When she plays, I play. When she falls silent, I fall silent. But I am cloistered around the corner in the kitchen and she doesn’t even know I am there. When she stops to ferret out the next gem of a lyric, I hold my peace. I look around the kitchen to see what is at hand to occupy my time. Sadly, what is at hand is carob chips, a cask of peanut butter, bags of corn chips, a plethora of natural snacks. I’m going to have to move to the other room and confess before I gain 20 pounds. While there’s not too much unusual or interesting about a mom hiding in the pantry and eating herself into obesity; and there may be a little something romantic about a covert bassist; it’s probably time to come out of the closet. I’ve ordered an amp. That way I can plug in the headphones and no one will ever know.

Character, Emotional Health, Family, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Holidays and Traditions, Home and Hearth, Relationships, Spiritual Well Being

Why We Weep at Weddings

August 30, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

We attended a wedding yesterday. Yes. We suspended our Saturday busyness and took baths in the vintage claw foot tub, dressed with care in garments chosen from the special events side of our closets –seldom used of late – and Zoomed in and attended the wedinar. It was a very early wedding for some of the guests. 9:00 AM Mountain Daylight time for those of us in Colorado. God forbid you woke on the west coast this morning and had to be washed and dressed and in attendance by 8:00 AM.

It probably seemed a late wedding for the principals who have known each other – known this was the one – for three years and who have been waiting, waiting for COVID19 to clear. Late or not, it was a beautiful wedding. 11:00 AM in Cambridge meant the bride looked fashionably appropriate in her street-length, flare-skirted, professionally tailored, white wedding dress and elbow length veil. The ceremony took place in a lovely, huge, Presbyterian church complete with pipe organ, vestments, linens and vessels of communion; and empty pews. Fortunately, both bride and groom are musically astute so they obligingly sang the congregational hymns. But most of all, the bride and groom are intelligent and wise. We loved them for their integrity. We applauded them for pulling this off in the midst of a socially distanced pandemic and in such a way that we could be invited and included- something that would not have been possible from a distance of 2,000 miles in more traditional times.

And we cried. Not because of Coronavirus and because these kids can’t have a regular wedding with hundreds in attendance. No. We cried for all the reasons guests usually cry at weddings. We cried because they are young and idealistic and have perfect plans for their lives. One of us is old and disillusioned and knows what too often happens to idealistic plans. So she wipes her tears and smiles and says in her heart, may theirs come to fruition! The other of us is still young and idealistic and listens to their vows with rapt attention and thinks, it finally happened for them. Will this ever finally happen for me? We listen to the bride’s parents extol her virtues. She is literary and loves to hike and camp. Sigh. She is a perfect woman. We weep. Like women of any age and any era we look over the groomsmen in Zoom thumbnails and try to decipher who is most eligible. In the plus column, we see that all have beards. Wonder of wonders, they are quoting C.S. Lewis in their wedding speeches. What riches! What intelligence! We have found our people! Briefly, we cry again for joy. Where have all the young men gone? We also see companions in the thumbnails; family members in the guestbook photo gallery. Ah, most of the wedding party have found their people and are surrounded by wives and toddlers. The best woman (aka sister of the groom) is planning her nuptials That is good! The world is unfolding as it should. And again, we weep.

Not one tear do we shed for social distance. We are happy to be invited and attend virtually. In no other way would it be possible to be present. We didn’t have to wait until cake was served. You can have your cake – and eat it too, and your popcorn or chips anytime you feel like it at a virtual wedding. You can run spontaneously to the kitchen for chips and juice to take communion with the un-crowd. I even answered a phone call from the other room.

So yes. It is August of 2020 and we went to a wedinar yesterday. We laughed. We were inspired and comforted. We wept. What makes you cry at weddings?

Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life

Dress to meet the love of your life

August 22, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

You know the old adage: get up, dress up, show up?

Some time back I heard additional excellent advice along the same lines. One of those motivational, handsome, hip, spiffy, well-chiseled, broad-shouldered – but I digress. Anyway, one of those motivational, dress for success, guys advocated rising each morning and dressing as though you are going to meet the love of your life. Everyday. That seems a bit extreme to me. But I get the point. Most women apply makeup for special occasions – as do I.

So yes. I put on lipstick when I hike. I wear makeup in the Great Outdoors -mostly because my lipstick is a moisturizer and also sunscreen. When I am working – even the most casual of jobs-I dress up – I pay attention to what I wear. I have always recognized and followed good advice. But pandemic. Isolation. Living alone. Some things were neglected the second quarter of 2020.

Today I remembered. I bathed and groomed with care. I put on my makeup. I chose a favorite outfit. I’m now dressed to meet the love of my life – so I am convinced I’ll find the perfect kayak.

Books and other Soul Food, Character, Emotional Health, Fiction is Truth, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Hiking and outdoor beauty, Metaphor, Poetry and Prose, Write

Wherein Life is a Beach

August 2, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

Let me tell you a story; Let me spin you a yarn; Let me relate how my life has been going; And you can write back and share yours!

I’ve been patient and impatient; Happy and sad; But mostly my life has been fabulous; When I remember not to dwell on the bad.

My box of books finally arrived! Originally printed in 2009, The Pancake Cat was rereleased June 24, 2020 with an all new cover featuring the artwork of Andrea Shellabarger. Four new illustrations grace the inside chapters along with content updates.

Did I say released on June 24? Though the book has been available at Amazon, Barnes Noble and Target since that date – and now even Books A Million, Indie Bound, Powell’s, and Walmart – I did not hold an actual copy in my hands until yesterday, July 31, 2020. Thirty-seven days is the embodiment of line five of that little ditty above: I’ve been patient and impatient.

Patient and impatient I may have been, but I have not been idle. Oh no. During that time I have been working on a fresh new professional website. It’s been coming along swimmingly – and about as fast as running through knee deep water. But then what is life if you can’t feel like you are at the beach? We all like to float away now and then. Anyway, I was running through thigh deep water, spending hours and hours with Youtube tutorials and I added Woo Commerce and opened a web store complete with T-shirts and book bags and books. I have lots of experience selling T-shirts and books so it seemed like a good idea. And then, I fell flat on the beach and was immediately buried in sand and the tide came in and washed over me. The new amateur looking web store completely over wrote the three professional looking pages I had just given six weeks of my wonderful life in the mountains to establish.

I did the only sensible thing a woman in my position can do: I took a fast-thinking hike. In fact, I took several fast thinking hikes. I slept on it for a couple nights. I contemplated retail therapy – I believe a kayak is in my future. My good health and sanity demands I get on the water. And then I called my web host and retrieved the professional pages and dismissed the new experiment. We are not completely starting over. We only have to go back a few paces.

Meanwhile, I finished an eight-minute slideshow – complete with four old hymns piano tracked by myself- for my mother’s upcoming memorial service. And then, the instructor for the virtual choir class I am taking assigned me to re-record some tracks. Apparently I am supposed to sing doot doot doot as opposed to doo doot doot – or, heaven forbid, dooT dooT dooTT.

My Dad is wondering why I don’t come see him more often now that I am retired and COVID is keeping me from a steady job.

Actually, my life is pretty fabulous when I remember to eat right, sleep right, hike, make music and let it go. How about you?

Books and other Soul Food, Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Relationships, Spiritual Well Being, Work

The Grateful Victim

June 21, 2020 Cherry 1 Comment

It was something of a miracle to wake for the ninety-sixth time with a feeling of well-being. Make no mistake; she had moments of sadness and loss – bereavement even; periods of anger and denial. But she soldiered through them like a normal person. Treated them like an acceptable result of life and death. Gone were the days of abject despond and paralyzing fear that used to seize her for no reason when everything was going well. Gone the constant feeling of victimization even in the midst of the best of times. These days gratitude is her trademark. Gratitude on waking. Gratitude on drifting off to sleep – solidly. She abides in Peace. And Love. And Creativity. She knows herself to be a victim of only one thing. She is a victim of God’s perfect timing. Yes. A victim of the unfolding of the Universe. This is not the way she chose for it to go. Her choices were snatched from her hands. All her perfect plans – and she laid many with her God-given analytical brain – were treated as nothing. She is now living in Colorado – the place she longed to be. But she didn’t get here with the pomp and circumstance and grace she intended. She was unceremoniously thrust out of hot Arizona and tossed into Durango without warning on the cusp of COVID-19. Did I say without grace? By all appearances it was not a graceful landing – it was more of an ignominious heap. But it was definitely Grace! Yes. She is a recipient of God’s perfect timing. Orchestrated by a Universe in which she is a miniscule particle. Quarantined in the mountains. Forced to not go to work for eight weeks – to not even sip from the bottle of workaholism. Forced to write and read and make music. Required to engage in no activity save those that were exactly what her soul needed. Prohibited from shopping save for health and nourishment. Absolved of any pressure to socialize the introvert within. Add to that, her mother was dying. She had known it for many months. It was no unnatural or sudden shock. The death of an aging loved one is as expected as paying taxes. These global circumstances, so negative to the entire world, again positioned her in proximity to be there the moment restrictions eased and her mother attained final peace. And for that she is eternally grateful.

There are years, years we live through without relief, where nothing happens for us. We are caught in the overwhelming mud of the flood. Bogged down in the Slough of Despond. We are not absolved from the responsibility of our own self-care nor, ironically, of the admonition to give thanks in everything. But let us not fail to acknowledge and be grateful for the miraculous when God steps in and victimizes us with a perfect plan. You can trust the Universe. Rest in that. And be grateful.

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Spiritual Well Being, The Rules

An Old Fashioned Girl and Sneetches

June 10, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

First, let me say that I am aware there are far more important things going on in the world than my sense of fashion and what I ate for breakfast. Conversely, what I wear and what I eat may directly inform my immunity to disease and strengthen me to engage in meaningful activity whether active or passive.

An Old Fashioned Girl She had always been a little bit old-fashioned. Her high school classmates can attest to that. But after her release into adulthood, she gradually drew abreast of fashion, in some instances becoming a trend-setter. And so it was with the reintroduction of bandanas. She was like everybody else, yet ahead of the game. She had a collection of 15 and wore a different one everyday. But lately she seemed to be falling behind again. Increasingly fewer folk were sporting bandanas on the trail. And then, her city enacted a face-covering in public spaces policy. Sadly it met with open rebellion and scorn. Yet, she had always been a bit old-fashioned, and that often entails following the rules.The Rules If you bristle that your rights are being violated when you are asked to wear a mask – or a shirt – or shoes – or a uniform-or a bathing suit – please save that energy and zeal for issues of prejudice we have recently witnessed – like Stars Upon Thars. In my opinion, mandatory testing should not be for all – nor should mandatory immunizations – or immunizations that have not been fully tested. But hey, bandanas for all is no great sacrifice – nor is a six-foot rule grievous to she who rather likes her space on the trail or in the grocery store.Keep on Doing Good

If you would protest, stay fit and stay well. What you eat for breakfast and what you wear may be important.
If you would cry out, don’t cry “wolf,” save your voice for what really matters. Keeping your instrument (be it voice, strings or pen) well exercised will keep your music – and you – alive.
Be strong! Flaunt your fashion! Keep calm. Save your protestations for things that really matter.

Keep doing it – day after day! Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Be courteous to your neighbor. Fight evil. May Love be with you.

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams

Two Wrongs Don’t Make a Right

May 31, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

Two wrongs don’t make a right. That’s what Grandma always told me when I tried-by force-to make my little brother do it my way. I have no better words with which to address the heartbreaking events ongoing in the country I love. Two wrongs don’t make a right. We must acknowledge a string of wrongs-too many to count. Somewhere in the middle of that string is the cruel, unjust, unacceptable, and un-American, death of George Floyd in the hands of officers sworn to uphold the Constitution. We must make it right. More and more wrongs will not make it so. Yes, it may feel like jousting with windmills. But now, right now, might be the time to go all Don Quixote.
To dream the impossible dream
To fight the unbeatable foe
To bear with unbearable sorrow
To run where the brave dare not go
To right the unrightable wrong
To love pure and chaste from afar
To try when your arms are too weary
To reach the unreachable star
This is my quest, to follow that star
No matter how hopeless, no matter how far
To fight for the right
Without question or pause
To be willing to march
Into hell for a heavenly cause
And I know if I’ll only be true
To this glorious quest
That my heart will lay peaceful and calm
When I’m laid to my rest
And the world will be better for this
That one man scorned and covered with scars
Still strove with his last ounce of courage
To fight the unbeatable foe
To reach the unreachable star! – The Impossible Dream, Mitch Leigh, 1965

Character, Emotional Health, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life, Music and Theatre, Musical resolutions

Things you can do solo: Play Piano, Play guitar, Learn a new instrument

March 25, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

It happened so swiftly she didn’t know what hit her. Yet, always prepared, she knew just what to do.

Well-salaried position to boxes stacked in a new locale 260 miles distant in 72 hours
Final load of earthly goods settled in Durango, Colorado complete in 10 days – including changing horses in the middle of the stream

A sudden move. Yet, she was nothing if not prepared – just not as prepared as she wanted to be. At the age of 65 the concept of retirement had been thoroughly considered, characteristically planned. “Someday,” she said, “I will retire in Ouray. I will write. I will play music. I will hike. I will attend cultural events. I will soak my weary bones in the hot springs daily. Ouray is both my church and my hospital. I will retire and heal.” The best laid plans often go astray. No affordable housing was available in Ouray. Durango-only 74 miles distant-offered refuge; a private place to write, room for musical instruments, plentitude of cultural events, a hub of education, most importantly: hiking trails accessible from the front door.

“I will get a fun job,” she said. “Part time or full time – something to protect my savings account from decimation.”

And then: coronavirus. The churches closed first. Then the schools. Then bars and restaurants. Finally the train. Every last place that promised entertainment or held potential for a fun job: shuttered. Choral groups cancelled concerts. Symphonies ceased to gather for rehearsal. The unemployment rate rose to 30% and continued to climb. But she had learned something in her 65.75 years. Don’t quit on your music. Music is something you can do alone or together. Times of solitude and hibernation are times of preparation. She flexed her 10 fingers and applied them to 88 keys. She added a few new songs to her repertoire, mixing them with the tried and true standards. When she tired of the piano bench, she picked up the guitar – daily – because once you build those callouses you don’t ever want to lose them and start over. And, still having time on her hands, she unzipped – for the first time in five or more years – her bass case. My, my, the interior of that case smelled so good-almost like opening a book – and the strings felt resonant in her hands. No amp, but she is gonna be hot, hot, hot by the time this pandemic is over. Time to revisit the bucket list. What can you do, during isolation, self-quarantine and physical distancing? May she suggest: Play the piano. Play the guitar. Learn a new instrument. Because that’s what people do in times of trouble. They record the times through art. They make music. You got this! Keep putting one foot in front of the other.

Young man pictured playing guitar alone, outdoors, at proper social distance during pandemic

Horizontal bass rediscovered during pandemic

Family, Goals and Dreams, Music and Theatre

But first, music; This Magic Moment WRF edition

March 19, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

She was back in town for wilderness first responder recertification and I was playing host – sort of recertifying my position as her mom and mentor. A road trip to get her here. Three days of intense training for her whilst I puttered about the apartment. The first evening I hiked to the top of the Sky Steps to meet her and we took a nature trail home together. The second night I ran up the Sky Steps and texted, “I’m at the chimes. Where are you?” A few minutes later she responded, “Bringing a couple classmates home for dinner. We are shuttling cars.” Oh my goodness, I would have to hurry. The only key was in my pocket. I met the three of them walking up the middle of the road, two blocks from the house. Two beefy outdoorsmen of her generation; one in hiking pants, the other in shorts and man-Uggs, looking pure Australian, but speaking Californian. Both had hair as long as my daughter’s. In fact, one had the exact same braid and hair color as my daughter. These were not the college sophomores of ten years ago, no, these were mature and rugged young men. Used to the out-of-doors, used to putting entire physical prowess and brain into every challenge, used to working with the public, guiding, being responsible.

My daughter served us popcorn as an hors d’oeuvres and then the young people headed out to grocery shop and see the town. The meal boded well to be fresh, cast-iron cooked, healthful – – and late.

I stole those solitary minutes as appropriate to play through a piano set and then moved on to guitar. Halfway through The Gambler the shoppers returned. Calistralia’s eyes lit as he entered and he gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up. I proceeded to Killing Me Softly With His Song. Wonder of wonders, he began to sing words – and harmony. In the kitchen, Andrea had scrubbed the sweet potatoes and started them to bake. Concluding my practice time, I turned to the young man and asked, “Do you play guitar?” “I have,” was his succinct reply. That reply told me volumes. Some reshuffling of dinner preparations occurred. We all pitched in. After that interruption, I stepped into the living room and handed him the guitar. Oh my heart, what beauty now emanated from those six strings. Rather than weep, I turned to the other ranger, “Do you play any instruments?” “I am a fire-dancer,” he said.

I tossed him the Remo Fruit Shakes from our china closet. Andrea picked up her mandolin. I moved to the keyboard. Dinner was almost ready. But first: music.

Character, Family, Goals and Dreams, Health and Long Life

Thoughts on matchmaking a daughter

January 18, 2020 Cherry Leave a comment

Matchmaker, matchmaker,
Make me a match,
Find me a find,
Catch me a catch

She wants someone from her generation; taller, dark-haired, maybe olive-skinned; someone who wears skinny jeans – as long as they are in fashion; someone who loves the out of doors and has all the right gear for camping and skiing and climbing and travel; someone resourceful who could be a survivalist if necessary; someone who loves music. And I? I am her mother. I want someone who will be good to her – love her – appreciate her brain and skills and qualities. All those other things? May they be so as well, but there are many, many things wrapped up in the phrase be good to her.

In the Studio

Cherry Odelberg