April is National Autism Month

Jonathan Clark, 14, of Rockford, who attends the Autistic Center in Camelot School in DeKalb, will be highlighted Monday on NBC’s Today Show in a segment that commemorates April as Autism Awareness Month.

A lull in the blog world

hi,

not much going on since the weekend.  A bit of jamming and musicality.  Sunday was yard work, here in the midwest.  Now we are in the middle of the week, and we reach that part of the weekly slide that heads into Friday evening.  Just like when you were a teenager, we’re waitin’ for the weekend.  Getting together with friends, and hopefully, our nephew, who is an officer of the court.  Haven’t seen or heard from our friend Doug, the bearded guitar god since Friday. . . guess he’s busy. . .

Oh, speaking of guitar gods, Doc Watson is going to be in Madison Wi, on May  19th (a Saturday) @ 8 pm.

time for bed. us tangented folks need sleep. . .

later

The joke you’ve waited for

What’s green and sits on your deck?

Patti o’furniture. . .

I guess it’s in the blood. . .

Hi,

you know, there is something to be said for what you are made of, or where your ancestors come from, that affect and direct you in ways you don’t think of, or about.

Take music, or more precisely, celtic music, or Irish music. Since a young child, I have always found it just absolutely fascinating. The speed, rhythm, intricacies, just the sheer soul of the music touched me in ways that surprised me, considering that I was from a Swedish family in the midwest. Not much of a gregarious group, since they gave up pillaging, raping, plundering and whatnot in the days of old. Anyway, every time I’d hear a jig, reel, or whatever was played, I couldn’t stop my feet or my excitement. Kinda like a car wreck. . . Didn’t want to look, but couldn’t help it. . . .

My parents had divorced when I was a very small child, around my third birthday. As in the Harry Potter stories, there was a name you didn’t mention. “He who must not be named”. My Lord Voldermort was my father. I knew his first name, and sort of the last name, but we never talked about him. Then, later in my life, I learned something. I learned by chance, sort of, that he was as Irish as someone could be without living in Ireland. a member of the Irish Marching Society, clubs, and all that. . . Here I thought that I was Scandinavian, but, to my surprise, I find that I’m three quarters Irish. . . Though , he died tragically, without ever meeting me as an adult. But, that’s another story. . .

Anyway, to take the long way ’round to the point. . . Something inside me knew that I was Irish, though it took most of my life for me to realize it.

Sometimes you know things that you didn’t know you knew. . .

Our doctor says to use less salt

Hi,

Sunday was so nice that Maggie got the tools out and washed the cars. Glad she likes to do that, ‘cuz I don’t. She is the gearhead, not me. And a cute head it is, along with her gear. If it was a broom, I’d say she swept me off my feet the moment I met her.

She never misses a spot. . . . And I’ll leave it @ that. . .

Lucky me. . .

The Black Turtleneck, and Other Fashion Miracles

Hey for once this is Maggie with my very own blog entry.  Yes, I am the one Tim waxes poetic about and the funny thing is I feel I’m the lucky one.

On to the story of the fashion miracle……

If you are a faithful follower of all things Tim and Maggie you’ve seen the blog entry about my faithful summer shirt that I appeared in seemingly every place we went last year.
I’m an eclectic clothes shopper gathering items from the lowest second hand shops to the loveliest of emporiums.  I happened across a black turtleneck at our local Salvation Army last year and it was everything a person could want in a shopping experience.  It was the right size! It was brand new! It was CHEAP!
Clutching my precious purchase I hurried home thanking the fashion gods all the way that they should indeed lay such an item in my path.  My turtleneck and I were happy, I wore it tons of times and took care of it, and in turn it took care of me.  Then….. the fateful day January 5th and I had a heart attack.  My faithful turtle neck was right there with me and it survived the emergency room tornado of clothes removal and made it home safely with husband Tim.  Whew!  But things weren’t quite the same.  It was starting to show the wear and tear of a hectic life.  And me, well my new lifestyle brought weight loss and the faithful turtle neck was resigned to the bottom of the drawer.
Here’s where the fashion miracle comes in:

I was at the same Salvation Army this past week, and there it was:  The same black turtleneck. The exact same brand.  New, cheap, and in a smaller size!  My size!

Oh the fashion gods can be fickle and they can bestow blessings beyond belief.  i laughed at the whimsical
musings of the universe and thought:  “It’s a really good day today!
And it was.

I want to ride my bicycle. . .

Hi,
here we are, Sunday already.   How time flies when you are doing something you like, such as living well with your wonderful partner. . . sounds like a ‘Dusty & Lefty’ skit from Prairie Home Companion. .  .
Anyway, I’m here @ blog central, working up all the details of enjoying life.
Yesterday, we slept in, which is unusual in itself.   Don’t get a chance to do that very often.   Sleeping for us is like around 6 cst  or so.    We had the start of spring weather, so we got out and ran some errands, and observed that here in the midwest, the first nice sort spring saturday is a flag for people who are out driving around on the busiest streets in town to pretend that they are in Mayberry or Pleasantville, and go around 20 mph instead of the speed limit.  Guess they just want to feel the sun on them and float down the street.   Oh yeah, the Harleys come out too.    Pseudo bad ass guys who can’t do anything creative or positive, so they take the baffles out of their mufflers, and pretend it’s a playing card in the spokes of their Schwinn’s.   “Get your motors running, head out for the highway”. . .   yeah, yeah, yeah. . .
Our friend Doug came over later in the day and evening for our first home jam in a while.   We wimped out on you all. . . we didn’t go to see the California Guitar Trio. . .  
We realized that         1. we have seen them like 6 times in the last 7 years.
2. we will see them again and again
3. we have been somewhere every weekend for the last 4 or 5 weekends.
Chicago, an opening act for a house concert, NYC, a birthday jam soup party for M.  So, we decided that we needed a weekend to just take it kinda easy and rest when we want.  Good conversation and music.  We haven’t sat and talked with Doug in a while, and that’s always interesting, no matter if you agree or not.     The nice thing about good friends.  You don’t have to agree with them to be friends.  Nice of them to do that.
We went out to or for breakfast this morning.   There is a little place up the hill here that has a granola pancake and other eclectic things on the menu.   Sit and read the paper and have breakfast.  How urbane.
After some chore things, we went for our first bike ride of the year!  Not even spring yet, and we are out spraying dirt and water in the late winter air.

Bikeride 1

We just went around the neighborhood, but it was quite thrilling to be in tight pants with a fuzzy diaper in the butt.   M. did great.  She amazes me with the small things that she does and says that add up to  changing and influencing the world around her.    Ah the day  I met her. . .  I remember it well. .  .
More about that in another blog.
So we braved the cool wind to hear the wheels whine on the pavement.

Bikeride 3

No torn muscles or flat tires so that was a success.  More later in the week, I hope.  We’re gonna do cheeseburgers for dinner (soy cheese and small lean patties).   Have a couple clocks to turn ahead yet, and then, who knows?
J. had his bachelor party last night.   No calls for bail, so I guess it went well.  Good for him and them!    A lucky young man. And nice too. .  .
Anyway, on to dinner and planning the next entry.
Don’t forget to check the website   www.magtimmag.com and link to the other sites we have.
Thanks for thinking that I can write something interesting. . .
Bye. . .

a quick observation of life and love

Hi,

isn’t it interesting and nice how love has it’s own ebb and flow in a relationship.  One always knows that one is in love with one’s partner, but, like a comet whirling in an eliptical orbit around the heart, it has a way of coming closer and then away, heating up and cooling down.    the ways of the heart and soul are difficult to ponder, but wonderful to experience.

Comedy is easy. . . . Profundity is hard. . .

Hello

the party was a huge success. . .    Music, food, friends, more food, more music. . .     Almost everyone invited showed up.   The last of the guests left around 12:45 this morning.  Whew.  We had so much fun playing and eating and visiting and playing.   My fingers are sore still.  Jan & Mike were awesome, both for coming from the suburbs, and playing so well, as always.  Doug was in his glory.   the bearded guitar god was incredible.   As best I can tell, everyone there had a great time.

There is a moment when playing, sometimes, that makes the hair on the back or your neck stand up.   You realize that the piece you are in the middle of has a total life of it’s own, and you are in something that is going where it wants.   It’s like being in a strong river, going along with the current, but you have to paddle furiously, yet not at all, to stay in the zen of the moment.  Also, no matter how hard you try, you can’t ever experience this piece the exact same way again.  It’s a live thing and yet like smoke from a bright fire, wispy and gone in the wind.   There are times like this again, but never the same.   It’s so ethereal.

Life is good. . .

Bye. . .

Going to a party. . .

Hey,

we’re headed to M & B’s for the last in a series of parties for Maggie’s birthday. . .    This is the third.  Should be a lot of fun. Good food. good friends.  good music.   good bye.  gotta go get ready.