Caleigh O'Shea's Blog, page 30

A Red-faced Moment

You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm. ~Colette, French author

Have you ever done anything so insanely stupid that you cringe at the thought of telling another person about it?

Well, they say confession is good for the soul, so here goes:

Recently, I had a routine checkup with my ophthalmologist. I carried my eyeglasses in so they could make sure the prescription was still standing me in good stead.

Now, I have glasses for distance (driving, movies, etc.) as well as for mid-range (playing my flute, reading on my computer, etc.), and they look very much alike.

Reddish frames, similar lens shape, and even matching cases, as they were made by the same company.

I thought I was being very clever, keeping them in separate sections of my purse so I’d be able to tell the doctor or technician which pair was for which purpose.

When I got back home (yes, my checkup went fine, thanks!), I pulled out my flute to practice, but the music was blurry. In fact, I was better able to squint and see the notes without glasses than I could with them.

Hmm.

I called the eye doctor’s office and asked if they’d dilated my eyes.

No.

After explaining my blurriness, I was told to put some drops in them, blink a few times, and if that didn’t help, call back the next day.

The drops helped … a little. But the blurriness persisted.

Finally it dawned on me to really look at the frames.

They were cute, but something was off.

Had the office mistakenly handed me the wrong glasses?

Finally, I went out to my car and brought my “distance” glasses in.

Cute also.

And when I tried to read my flute music with them on, the notes miraculously appeared!

Turns out, I’d put my mid-distance glasses in the car and brought the distance pair inside to read.

How embarrassing.

Okay, your turn. Anything dumb you’re willing to share?

Have You Read This Book?

A good book should leave you… slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading it. ~William Styron, American novelist

Normally, I’m reluctant to hop on the bandwagon when it comes to books everybody says I must read.

Maybe my taste in reading differs from that of the masses, or maybe I’m just flouting my rebelliousness.

Last week I went to our public library to check out Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens for my mom. When I heard it was “sweeping the nation” in popularity, I had to force myself not to roll my eyes.

Mom finished it with rave reviews and urged me to read “just a few pages.”

Okay, why not?

Where the Crawdads Sing is a coming-of-age tale about a girl abandoned by her family and left on a North Carolina marsh to fend for herself. It’s also the story of two young men drawn into her world and the mystery of what happened to one of them.

Beginning with the 1950s and continuing through the ensuing decades, Crawdads depicts a South segregated by race and social standing, steeped in prejudice and the good ole boy network.

If I’d listened to Mom and read only the first chapter, I’d have tossed it aside. The author didn’t hook me, didn’t give me a character to root for (or worry about).

Still, I kept reading and I’m glad for it.

Owens is an American author and zoologist, who published three bestselling nonfiction books depicting her time as a wildlife scientist in Africa. This is her debut fiction work. If you like description, you’ll love her prose:

A few birds pecked gently between her toes, and she laughed from the tickling until tears streamed down her cheeks, and finally great, ragged sobs erupted from that tight place below her throat. When the carton was empty she didn’t think she could stand the pain, so afraid they would leave her like everybody else. But the gulls squatted on the beach around her and went about their business of preening their gray extended wings. So she sat down too and wished she could gather them up and take them with her to the porch to sleep. She imagined them all packed in her bed, a fluffy bunch of warm, feathered bodies under the covers together.

But I nearly stopped reading when I got to the courtroom scenes. Owens must not have sat through any jury trials; in fact, she must not have had any technical advice in this area at all.

As a working journalist, I covered oodles of trials and can attest to the drama played out. No lawyer or judge would have acted the way Owens had her characters act (John Grisham she’s not!)

But she made up for that failure by drawing in her readers, coaxing them to follow her plotline to its conclusion. Her female lead character is intriguing. Strong, resilient, and clever. The other characters are believeable. The pacing is steady, and short chapters ensure you’ve got a stopping spot if you need one.

In an interview, Ownes, a native Georgian, said it took her nearly a decade to write this book. She began writing from the end and worked backward, weaving the story between past and present. The title, she said, comes from advice her mother gave her when growing up.

I won’t say anymore in case you haven’t read it. The comments on Goodreads are all over the board, from high praise to thumbs-down. Perhaps this is another case where you just have to read the thing for youself to decide.

Unwelcome Guest

Hospitality is making your guests feel at home, even if you wish they were. ~Author Unknown

[image error]

Come listen to the tale of a woodchuck pest

Who used my back yard shed as a nest.

He dug a deep hole,

Went out for a stroll,

And returned just in time for a much-needed rest.

Now Woody, or Chuck, or whatever his name

Probably decided I was onto his game.

He lay flat out

There was never a doubt

He was dead. What a shame, What a shame.

But hanging out clothes one Sunday fair

I heard a clink from the fence over there.

It was Woody, I know.

Or maybe her beau,

Dash into that lair with nary a glare.

I can only assume this rodent I dread

Was faking all along when I thought it was dead.

Didn’t mind all the flies,

Never opened its eyes.

Just knew it was safest underneath my shed.

 

Note: True story. Poetic form is a Limerick.

Sharing the Music

Play the music, not the instrument. ~Author Unknown

We’ve nearly completed our summer Community Band season, and it’s time to take stock of our progress.

[image error]

Concert #3, the cold one. I’m in the first row.

Our first concert was windy. Most of us were playing instruments with one hand while holding music and stands down with the other.

Our second concert was still. Not a puff of wind, but gathering clouds overhead and sky-high humidity.

Our third concert was chilly. And windy. Nothing like bundling up in June.

By the fourth concert, I’d already become a feast for the mosquitoes, so it was refreshing to have a gentle cool breeze … and citronella candles outlining our stage.

Despite the weather, people turn out in droves to listen.

Maybe because our concerts are free and outdoors, weather permitting.

But they’re far from masterful.

Our director hands out 10-12 pieces of music (some are past-year favorites; others are brand-new) during practice every Tuesday evening. We run through the lineup, then perform them two days later.

You read that right — two days.

Two days to nail down notes. And rhythms. And all those runs flute players are expected to perform.

And because our band’s experience level varies from player to player (and section to section), not everybody can hit every note. Not everybody even knows how some of the songs are supposed to sound.

For instance, one week we played a medley by Duke Ellington. The high school and middle school kids were pretty puzzled over that; in fact, most of us were.

But another week we played selections from “The Wizard of Oz.” Who isn’t familiar with that?

We’ve played tunes by Chicago, Elton John, Pharrell, and Queen. Rock ‘n Roll, Jazz, TV theme songs, marches, hymns. Next up is our patriotic concert, and I’m already stressing over the flute part to Sousa’s Stars and Stripes Forever.

But seeing the delighted faces of our audience, hearing their cheers and applause, and knowing we’re giving so much pleasure to so many people is rewarding.

Because it’s one thing to play an instrument. But playing music is something special.

Something worth sharing with others.

Note: Happy Fourth of July, my friends!

Happy B-day, Sis

Sisters may share the same mother and father but appear to come from different families. ~Author unknown

[image error]

Sprung from the same womb

Competitors for too long

Now we’ve become friends.

Note: Happy Birthday to my sister and friend!

 

Beading in the Storm

You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment unless you trust enough. ~Frank Crane, Presbyterian minister and writer

I’ve heard that when a healing bracelet breaks, it’s a sign the stones have done all they can do for you, and you need to move on.

Recently, my bracelet did just that, so I used a gloomy, stormy day to make another:

[image error]

This is a Chakra bracelet, with two gemstones each of Black Onyx, Sodalite, Turquoise, Aventurine, Tiger’s Eye, Amethyst, and Picture Jasper.

Based on yogic tradition, Chakras are seven wheels spinning the flow of energy inside the body from the base of the spine to the crown of the head. When these Chakras are aligned, the body is healthy and whole; when one or more is out of balance (due to stress, poor diet, lack of exercise, and negative thoughts), disease and misery are present.

Do I believe that? I don’t know, but I’m sure God put everything on earth we’d need for optimum life, and even what appears to be “lifeless” rocks have a certain energy.

Worn in India for centuries, Chakra healing bracelets are said to trap negative energy in the stones and promote positivity for the wearer. Many different stones can be used for such bracelets, as long as they’re color-coded to the seven Chakras — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, purple.

And while I was making bracelets, I created this one:

[image error]

It, too, is a healing bracelet, one I apparently need since I’ve fought back issues ever since I broke two ribs in a fall in 2014.

This one is comprised of one each of Black Jasper, Snowflake Jasper (the supreme healer), Hematite (enhances self-confidence and concentration), Lapis, Amazonite (courage, creativity, truth), Emerald Jade (love, peace through strength), Fancy Jasper, Amethyst (piety, mental calm, creativity), Citrine (self-confidence), Carnelian (prosperity, lower back problems), Howlite (balance calcium levels, diffuse anger), Rose Jade, Fluorite (creativity), Moonstone (degenerative conditions), and Clear Crystal.

Now for the fun part, testing whether either (or both!) actually work for me!

Thrift and Order

I believe that thrift is essential to well-ordered living.  ~John D. Rockefeller, American industrialist, business magnate, and philanthropist

If John D. is correct, then that explains why I’m so naturally organized.

My late dad used to say he could send me to the store with a dollar, and I’d come back with 95 cents!

Some would argue I just didn’t find anything to buy. Truth is, I pinch pennies until they holler.

Always have.

My parents were little kids during the Depression years, and they passed along to me the value of thrift. As American religious leader Boyd K. Packer said, “Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.”

So this weekend — when the stormy weather forced me off my computer — I tackled a long-overdue project and came away feeling pretty pleased.

First, I had these tiny plastic bags in a dresser drawer:

[image error]

I didn’t count how many, but there must have been hundreds. I took this photo after I’d been opening them for a solid half-hour.

Inside the baggies were buttons of all sizes, shapes, and colors.

Blue ones, red, purple, green, gold, white, black, tan. Large, medium, tiny. With four holes to attach them or just one on the back.

They’d been taking up space in a dresser drawer for years. You see, spare buttons used to be attached via a small bag to a price tag on clothing.

Manufacturers must have thought the buying public would rejoice over getting something extra, especially when the buttons had a unique appearance.

I obviously bought in. You never really know when you’ll need a button.

Sorting them brought to mind some favorite pieces of clothing from years gone by, too.

In addition to the buttons, I had this:

[image error]

It’s a square tin box with a lid. My flute teacher gave it to me filled with homemade fudge one Christmas, and I figured it might come in handy for something once the goodies were gone.

I hated that it was simply collecting dust.

Then I got the idea of putting these two together — my very own button repository!

[image error]

Sure, I could have bought a sewing box or something, but why, when I already had what I needed?

A June Wedding

We need beauty because it makes us ache to be worthy of it. ~Mary Oliver, American poet

[image error]

She arrives at the chapel, her heart in a flutter.

Today, at last, is her wedding day.

Her bouquet is a medley of cream and butter;

Her gown a snowy vision in applique.

Her best friend approaches, tears in her eyes.

“Things will be different, you’ll see.”

She shakes her head, denying such lies

And pledges lifelong friends they’ll always be.

The music swells, her dad takes her hand

And together they step down the aisle.

This day is going just as she planned

Her lover awaits with a radiant smile.

When sacred vows join a couple in love

It’s a union of bliss blessed from above.

 

Note: My first Sonnet — Woo Hoo!! June is traditionally the most popular month for weddings. Nothing like that is going on here! I simply took a photo of the Popcorn Drift (R) Rosebush in my front yard and was stunned at how much it resembled a bride’s bouquet. I guess the weather conditions are perfect for it this year because it’s a mass of blossoms.

Another Attempt

An old dog, even more than an old spouse, always feels like doing what you feel like doing. ~Robert Brault, American writer

Dallas here.

I told Mama you were probably tired of her dumb haikus and Sunday gems by now, and it was time for me to let you know what’s really important in our world.

Mobility, or rather, the lack of it.

Everything was going just fine. Mama removed that horrid shower curtain barrier keeping me away from her while she was working on her computer, yakking on the phone, or playing her flute. The holistic glucosamine was helping my old hip joints.

Life was good.

Then Mama went on a sister trip and stuck me at the kennel. No stairs, but no Mama either.

And don’t ask me how, but she forgot to pack my glucosamine so I was what they call “stoved up” when she came to fetch me.

And this time, I really couldn’t get up the stairs so I decided to play on Mama’s guilt over abandoning me and demanded she taxi me up. Worked fine until her chiropractor and my dog-tur cautioned against it for our safety.

Hmph, what do they know?

Anyhoo, the other day Mama raced off to the local home improvement store, returning with all sorts of odd-looking items which she put together thusly:

[image error]

She says it’s a DIY doggie-gate, one I can’t get through no matter how hard I try — and trust me, I’ve tried!

It’s made of PVC pipes and plastic garden netting, strung together with zip ties. It extends across the entire stair opening, even wrapping around the sides and tucking neatly under the bannisters.

She can slide it aside to get through or gingerly climb over it, but I can’t.

Now I have to listen to Mama’s flute from afar while staring her down through these holes.

Like a common prisoner.

[image error]

Shame on you, Mama.

I thought we’d be together forever.

Sunday’s Gem — Pyrite

Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better. ~Albert Einstein

Nicknamed “Fool’s Gold,” Pyrite is a brassy-gold iron sulfide mineral formed in igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary rocks around the world.

[image error]

Pyrite crystal (thanks to http://www.pixabay.com)

Its name derives from the Greek pyr or pyros, meaning “fire” because of its ability to start a fire if struck against metal or another hard material.

Pyrite was prized by Native American tribes as a healing stone, polished into mirrors for gazing and divination.  Popular during the Victorian Age as Marcasite jewelry (faceted pieces of Pyrite in silver), it was carved into rosettes, shoe buckles, snuff boxes, and rings. During World War II, it was mined to produce sulfuric acid used in industry.

A masculine crystal containing both Earth and Fire elements, Pyrite is said to help one see what needs to be done while imparting the confidence to do it. In the workplace, it alleviates tiredness, enhances clarity, and helps workers to focus.

Pyrite isn’t terribly expensive, and its uses are many. Wear Pyrite in necklaces, earrings, or bracelets. Meditate with Pyrite prayer beads. Carry a Pyrite worry stone. Place a Pyrite figurine on your desk.

On the physical level, Pyrite is used when every every other avenue has been exhausted. It’s said to ease blood and bone disorders, fungal infections, skin disorders, reduce inflammation, and enhance blood oxygenation. On the emotional level, Pyrite is believed to boost self-esteem and provide healing from anxiety, fear, despair, and worry.

While not a zodiac stone or birthstone, Pyrite is said to be especially beneficial for those born between July 22 and Aug. 22, bringing them energy, power, and success.

Pyrite resonates with the second and third Chakras (sacral and solar plexis), helping us to fight infections and the fear of others’ disapproval. It also boosts intuition and the pleasure of life.

Feng Shui experts prize Pyrite for its ability to attract money and abundance. Often featured in cubes or clusters, its shiny surface brings an optimistic energy to wherever it’s located.

[image error]

Beautiful for yourself or as a gift, this Pyrite tree is available at www.astrogallery.com for just $29.99.

If using Pyrite for healing, clean it often with mild soap in tepid water and dry thoroughly. A 6-6.5 on the Mohs scale of hardness (1-10 range), Pyrite can be scratched if rubbed against other stones.

Note: The claims here aren’t meant to take the place of medical advice. They’re based on folklore and other sources, and likely “work” best if one’s belief is strong enough!