Under a Red Roof

An Anniversary of a Different Sort

June 6, 2008 in Loving, Quoting, Remembering by Colleen | 1 comment

RFK died forty years ago today. Just like MLK, I was three years from being born. Again, just like MLK, I think of him practically every day. He both inspires me and reminds me of myself – a bit overzealous and eager to prove himself as a young person (have you ever seen him question Jimmy Hoffa?), but mellowing with age. What might he have done with more time? What will I do with mine?

He had a wonderful grace about him and magical way of inspiring even the most downtrodden. I love watching footage of him interacting with crowds. I am amazed at how people wanted so badly to touch him that he needed members of his staff to hold him about the waist, to keep him tethered, so to speak. Otherwise, he would have disappeared into the throng there to see him. He never seemed frightened or perturbed either, only eager to shake one more hand. The footage I love most, however, is of him interacting with children – his own or perfect stangers. There was no denying his love and concern for their welfare.

And then, there were his words. Here are, in my opinion, a few of his most inspiring quotations.

“Few will have the greatness to bend history; but each of us can work to change a small portion of events, and in the total of all those acts will be written the history of this generation … It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is thus shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

“Laws can embody standards; governments can enforce laws — but the final task is not a task for government. It is a task for each and every one of us. Every time we turn our heads the other way when we see the law flouted — when we tolerate what we know to be wrong — when we close our eyes and ears to the corrupt because we are too busy, or too frightened — when we fail to speak up and speak out — we strike a blow against freedom and decency and justice.”

“What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence or lawlessness; but love and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or they be black.” Indianapolis, Indiana, April 4, 1968 Announcing to the crowd that Martin Luther King had been assassinated.

“Fear not the path of truth for the lack of people walking on it.” From his last speech.

Over and Over

June 5, 2008 in Listening, Remembering by Colleen | Permalink

When I was a kid, and my dad or brother would buy a new album, they would play it over and over again, driving me nuts, wishing I could yell “fire!”, or turn off the power to get it to stop, but realizing that even if I did, the effect would last but a minute before the truth was discovered. So, unless I wanted to go to the park, which, generally, I didn’t, there was no escaping it (until I bought my car – sweet freedom!). The music came into my bedroom, the bathroom, upstairs, and even outside on warm days, as we Sohns are not shy about volume in voice or otherwise. I was, as they say, surrounded, no choice but to surrender.

I just could not fathom why anyone would want to hear something, even if it was good, so many times. All that repetition just made me crabby and desperate for industrial strength ear plugs.

That was then. Now I get it. Thanks first to rediscovering Astral Weeks by Van Morrison about five years ago and to Sam Beam, of Iron and Wine, I really get it.

An aside for the G-Man. When we lived in Denver, they would sometimes show the fans outside McNichols Arena (a.k.a. Big Mac – now gone) after a concert on a slow news night. On one such night after Van played, a woman who had likely partaken of some illicit substance, screamed, “Van Morrison is pure love!” As a result, neither one of us can say his name without adding that as well. Good times.

I am digressing. I do that. Anyhoo, I got a taste of the repetition with Mr. Pure Love, and then came to a full understanding with Iron and Wine. This is rock steady, keep on wiggling in my chair, singing softly along kind of music. I love to listen to Sam Beam’s gentle voice when Gregory and I play cards. More often, as my friend Sarah will attest, this is sewing music. It’s just so perfectly suited to stitching.

I put one cd on, and as soon as it is over, the next. I can do this on a loop for hours, never ever growing tired, just stitching along, but often sitting in silent amazement when a disc is over. How could that be? Where did the time go? Wasn’t I just singing “Sunset Soon Forgotten”? Golly, that’s only the fourth song.

With Van Morrison (pure love!) and Iron and Wine, it is like they whisper the lyrics in my ear, and while I hear them and whisper back, I dream of myself and my place within the songs, in fields, under trees, peering through a crack in the door. What can I say? Magic.

Practically Perfect in Every Way

June 3, 2008 in Eating, Gardening + Nature by Colleen | 1 comment

Mary Poppins?! No, peonies! I figured that after a post about rejection I’d better write something cheery. Nobody likes too much gloom, particularly moi. Eek! That just made me think of Miss Piggy and how she’d draw it out, moooiii?! I never liked her, a bit too selfish for my taste. Poor Kermie.

Anyway, I digress. This afternoon, after cancelling this morning because it was pouring buckets, then thinking I might go on Saturday, and calling my friend Bridget twice, I finally went to the peony farm. I made a little pit stop in Tualatin to pick up my bestest buddy Gregory, and we were on our way! The skies were grey and wind chilling, but it did not rain, thank goodness.

I was not disappointed, but I don’t need to tell you that. Look at these delightful blooms! Row upon row of beautiful flowers in many colors and hues – a veritable feast for the eyes! Had there not been such a breeze, I would have wandered around a bit more taking in their gorgeousness and a few more pictures. I know that I’m gushing, but I looove peonies (though the G-Man was pretty impressed too). They are neck and neck with Poppies in my favorite flower horse race. Still in the race, but a bit behind are dahlias, lilac, and lavender. Pur-dee.

For the locals, Adelman’s is about a 45-50 minute drive from my house, so it requires a little planning, but, if you like peonies, it is well worth it. The people are super nice and helpful and, as I’ve already said, the selection is fantastic, especially if you are particular in a Goldilocks or Sally Albright kind of way. Here’s what I want – a red, a true red, nothing pinky-red, but nothing too ‘bomb’ like either, or too frilly, and nothing that needs staking. Thankfully, I didn’t need to verbalize this to anyone except Gregory, because after fifteen years, he’s okay with my idiosynchrasies. We just wandered until I found one that was just right (and then two more). They even gave me a bouquet of Sunny Girl and some fertilizer to thank me for my purchase. How nice is that?

As an aside for all of you who might entertain the idea of taking along someone who might not be the greatest fan of the beloved peony – just across the overpass is a perfect roadside restaurant called the Chalet that is good for bribing. We noshed on a Philly French Dip and a Turkey sandwich with gravy and cranberry sauce before gilding the lily with a slice of coconut meringue and peach pie. That’ll do pig, that’ll do.

And what, you might ask, did I buy before all the eating? A Coral Charm, Buckeye Belle, and Bartzella, but, silly me, I neglected to take a single photo of them. I assure you, they are lovely, just lovely. I can’t wait to cut a bouquet next summer. Thank you Adelman Gardens Peony Farm!

First Rejection

June 2, 2008 in Feeling, Writing by Colleen | 1 comment

I received my first rejection today. The bummer part is that it wasn’t even a letter, just a mass printed 3 X 5 card paper clipped to my manuscript.

Thank you for your inquiry. We read it with interest, but the project described is not one we believe would fit into our current publishing plans.

We cannot, therefore, encourage its submission, but we wish you the best of luck in placing it with the most appropriate publisher.

I wish it didn’t hurt to read it. I feel sad, but not crying sad. Bummed in a wouldn’t it have been great to have the first publisher I submitted to be the ONE? Alas, it is not to be. I am only left to wonder what it is to be, for life has the best poker face (and my friend Becky too – she’s good, very good).

Now this is me envisioning myself as the man in the picture, breaking through the wall to the right publisher. It’s bound to happen. Oh yeah, that’s right…

Fifteen

May 29, 2008 in Loving, Remembering by Colleen | 3 comments

January 26, 1991. What I thought was possibly the worst day of my life turned into the luckiest. First, my car was literally blown off the road and into a ditch in a gale force wind on Highway 93 en route to Boulder, Colorado. Second, I had to take a ride with strangers to actually get to Boulder, something I had never done before, nor have since. I was terrified! Are these people going to kill me? Thankfully they didn’t. Third, my sort-of boyfriend, upon my late arrival at my final destination of Fort Collins, instead of asking me if I was okay, demands, “Where’s my stuff?” I had to leave it in my car that was in a ditch on the side of a road you #$&! I would not speak to him again for another eight years.

Now that I had no plans to see the not-so-nice guy, I went to a hotel kegger with my friends. There on the bed, I chatted with a very cute and sweet guy I had met once before. When he got up to fill his beer, he asked me to save his seat. I did. We went out on our first date two weeks later, February 9, 1991. Two years and a little over three months after that, we were married, May 29, 1993. Today makes fifteen years – the absolute best of my life.

Sometimes, I can hardly believe it is true. I look at him with amazement and pure joy every single day. He’s with me! He’s my absolute best friend, confidante, and partner in crime. Our life together could not be more perfect, really it couldn’t.

Thank you wind, thank you strangers, thank you jerk!

I love you, Buddy. Happy Anniversary!