Remember?

 

When the grandgirls were little and came for a visit I remember singing to them.  I tucked them in at night to Mr. Sandman, recorded in 1954 by the Chordettes.  And there was the popular song from the 50’s sung by Doris Day,  A Bushel and a Peck, a happy piece from my own youth.  My best friend Kit and I actually made a recording of us singing, “I love you, a bushel and a peck, You bet your purdy neck I do!” They used to have booths in the old days where for a quarter you could have your picture taken and even make a recording!  The little record we made disappeared over the years, but the song still makes me smile.

Then all of a sudden I was a Grandmother who loved to make her grandgirls laugh.  They knew and I knew Grammy really could not carry a tune so there was always a lot of giggling going on.

My grandgirls are all grown up now and the tucking in days are over.  But last year for my birthday they came bearing a special gift – a pillow!

But it is not just any old pillow.

This one is a pillow full of memories!

And it has a home in the “kids’ room” where we sang those happy songs.  I love the memories of the laughter and the love, and I am so glad my grandgirls remember too.

And Kit, if you are reading this, “Thanks for the memories”!

Published in 2016 by Okmusix

 

 

 

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Virginia’s Songs of Summer

 

There are secret tunes of wind through leaves

as shadows dance in dappled rhythm

 to the lilting songs of another Virginia summer.

 

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You Light Up My Life!

“Happy Birthday Grammy!  We have something for you.”

That was the message from my grandgirls this birthday month.  Kendall and Mackenzie, our two girls in Virginia, met up with us for a celebratory dinner, when they gave me a sweet smelling Happy Birthday candle.  I have since learned it was also from the missing grandgirl, Jess, who is in school in Michigan.

Have you ever heard of a Bella j candle?

They said, “Just burn it Grammy and you may uncover a diamond worth $10,000!”

“Oh, o.k,” I replied.  “And I will split the proceeds!”

I dutifuly burned my candle every night for three nights and enjoyed watching the dancing flame and the peek-a-boo sightings of emerging foil.  My excitement grew and finally, there it was – the package I hoped would hold a bonanza!

Bill said, “It’s too small to hold $10,000.”

“Maybe it’s a check though,” I said, “or a real diamond?”  Hope prevailed.

Following instructions I extinguished the flame, waited for the candle to cool, and carefully removed the foil packet to be opened with extreme care.

Of course, it isn’t a diamond or a check, but is a tiny bracelet with a sweet little glowingly gold charm.

And I love it!  Thank you GrandGirls.  The candle is a lovely gift, the charm is a “keeper” and you (all three of you) always light up my life!

 

 

The Prize! Learn more at http://bellaj.com

 

 

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Mortifying Memories in Music

Have you ever heard the song, The Little White Cloud that Cried?

This is the cloud I am sure.

And it brings back embarrassing memories.

I was almost a teenager when that song was a teenage rage, and I saved up and rushed out to buy my first record.  Trying to impress some cool teens at school, I told them how much I loved the voice of the girl who sang that song!  They laughed and said, “Johnnie Ray is a GUY!”

To this day I still recall the acute embarrassment of not being “with it” or “cool” enough to know such a vitally important fact of life.

From en.wikipedia.org

And have you ever heard the song,  Unchained Melody?

I was a young girl once with a new boyfriend named Bob.  We only dated for about two weeks when he moved away.  He wrote tear stained letters that made me cry and I wrote emotionally charged letters back.  That was before texting, emails, and Skype of course.  Bob’s letters were heart-wrenchingly poignant (written in cursive and in ink) and I had no idea the words were not his own.  And then I discovered he copied them from a song!  AND  he wrote the same letters to another girl who was just as smitten.  Each stanza was a new letter.

Oh, my love, my darling
I’ve hungered for your touch
A long, lonely time
Time goes by so slowly
And time can do so much
Are you still mine?
I need your love
I need your love
God speed your love to me…

I wonder whatever happened to Bob. 

From en.wikipedia.org:  “The Little White Cloud that Cried” is a popular song written by Johnnie Ray and published in 1951.  The biggest hit version was recorded by Ray and The Four Lads in 1951.  It was a #2 hit on the Billboard magazine chart that year and one side of the one of the biggest two-sided hits, as the flip side, “Cry,” reached #1 on the Billboard chart.

 

From en.wikipedia.org :  “Unchained Melody” is a 1955 song with music by Alex north and lyrics by Hy Zaret.  North used the music as a theme for the little known prison film Unchained, hence the name… since become one of the most recorded songs of the 20th century, by some estimates having spawned over 500 versions in hundreds of different languages.  

 

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Country Roads

I tend to think in songs when I’m “blogging.”

 Songs and Stories

Willie Nelson’s On the Road Again is definitely catchy and the lyrics go round and round in my head.

I am alone on this enchanting farm lane but dare not sing aloud.

I can’t carry a tune you know, and would only scare myself and frighten the birds and bees away.

But the words come and go anyway, and in perfect harmony – in my mind.

“…On the road again

Goin’ places that I’ve never been

Seein’ things that I may never see again

And I can’t wait to get on the road again…”

John Denver’s Country Roads is another song that comes drifting in from somewhere in the dark recesses of my memory.  It’s just as addictive and the words keep weaving in and out until they become a unified patchwork of feelings, like in the making of a quilt.

But then a host of stories comes through unbidden.  They are images I invent of ghostly people of the past.

I hate being lost because you know how I worry about axe murderers, but country roads like this make me want to stop driving long enough to dream and invent such self induced stories.

Who walked down this lovely backwoods path long ago?  Who else felt dreamy on this lonely lane?  And suddenly, there they are – the people of this road from days gone by.

• I can see a young bride being driven to her new home, wondering about her life at the end of the path.
• Once upon a time there was a farmer who really wanted to be a lawyer, who used this road to get to town for supplies.
•  Or the farmer’s son leaving before dawn to run away from home.
• Best friends giggling on the way to school.
• A young couple eloping.
• A young boy and his dog.
• A farm wife out to pick blackberries for a pie.

There is just something about a country lane of inspiration with no end in sight that touches the imagination.

And as I come upon another, there are those ghostly stories in my head.

And the songs keep coming.

And I sing silently to myself so as not to frighten the wildlife,

“…ON THE ROAD AGAIN… GOIN PLACES THAT I’VE NEVER BEEN…”

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The Singing Diva

I forgot to tell you about singing.

I like to think I sing well even if I have a bit of a problem with dancing (no rhythm and no balance).

But, I don’t sing in the shower because I’m afraid I might scare myself.

Sometimes I sing in the car but only going at high speed with the windows open to drown things out.

I was in the Glee Club in 6^th grade when the teacher asked me to silently mouth the words.

But the real confirmation of this handicap came when I crooned lullabies to my infant son and he only screamed louder.

As he got older, if I started to sing, he would run out of the room.

He would wake up and pull the covers over his head when I sang, “It’s time to get up.  It’s time to get up.  It’s time to get up in the mornnnnnning!”

And when he became a Dad himself, if I started to sing, he would still quickly leave the room.

It wasn’t long until my three grandgirls figured this out and used it as a new tool in their arsenal of coping with parents.

If their Dad was in the room, they would all chime out at once, “Grammy – Sing!”

Worked like a charm (a foolproof way to get rid of Dad).

Singing is not such a problem as being known as an awkward dancer or tripping up the stairs, but it’s a demeaning characteristic nevertheless.   So I will never be a song and dance man woman!  I can live with that.

Lots of blogger pals sympathized with my dancing handicap.

What a pleasure to find like minds and folks who are also clumsy and can’t dance!

How are you at singing?

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