We "inherited" some bedroom furniture from Jack's mother; the usual dresser, chest of drawers thing. The set also included one of those big framed mirrors, the kind most folk hang over the dresser. The pair looked nice in their special corner of the room. Once outfitted with a hand embroidered doily and favorite lamp the whole thing looked downright elegant!
It reminded me of the bedroom my sister Carolyn and I shared many years ago; memories of her whispered boyfriend secrets, attempts at teaching me make-up tricks and so on. We didn't always get along back then, I was so much younger than her. But still, we had more good times than bad, supported one another whenever we could and have grown even closer through the years.
She was the oldest of us five kids and had the honored distinction of official ice-breaker and envelope stretcher when she wasn't being drafted as chief baby sitter. It can't have been easy, my teenage sister playing mother hen to four youngsters of various ages. But she survived, as did we. It wasn't long before her former charges were off to their own adventures.
By the time I was old enough to want to spread my wings a bit, Carolyn had already tested the waters and gotten our parents up to speed on some of the usual coming of age scenarios. Curfews, boys, dances and so on were already worn down from "issues" to "understandings." So, I made my own mistakes, broke new ground and all that. I'm sure a good bit of Mom's then-greying hair was brought on by my growing pains and gains.
That bedroom set stayed behind when my sister married and moved to Alaska. I moved too, into a smaller room so my brothers could have a bit more space. It was nice having my own room, however tiny. I learned to love solitude, and appreciated the time I had when the only noises in my head were my own. I spent hours writing, learning guitar and drawing or painting. We didn't have a lot of things like some of the other kids; no personal phones or expense accounts or even allowances. What we did have, even in spite of some pretty heavy differences, was and remains a loving, loud, big family. And for that I am eternally grateful.
So, as I look over at Jack's mom's dresser and mirror, I am brought back to my growing-up days....my sister's hairspray, my own tie dyed style sans make-up and what seems now to have been a much more innocent time. Here's to those memories!
There's some good news to report on the music front-I finally figured out how to use some of the recording equipment we collected through the years! So tomorrow we'll be doing some actual multi-track recording in our home studio!
I promise to upload a few samples once they're done!
When I was heading toward my Double Nickel Birthday in April 2009, the age 55 seems to be a lot of things. In this blog I will chronicle my thoughts about 55 Is The New, for the year beginning December 2009 because...well...that's when I felt like starting the blog. The entries will include that important day, my actual Fifty-Fifth birthday on April 14, 2010 and will continue for my entire fifty fifth year, concluding on April 14, 2011.
Randi on stage @ 1444 Market Street 1997
Randi on Stage 1997 at 1444 Market Street, SF, CA
Jack and yours truly today
Randi and Jack on the "Cadillac Campsite Tour"
Welcome To Fifty Five Is The New!
Hello out there!
What's it to you, turning the age of Fifty-five? You don't have to be turning it tomorrow, you could have already turned that corner a while back. That part doesn't matter so much.
While it's important what one feels, what matters most of all that one feels, that one feels anything at all.
So, as an exercise in self-examination and a way of getting over an incredible writer's block, I submit this blog to the World Wide Web, and I submit myself to a bit of mirror gazing.
Inspired by the movie "Julie & Julia," I will blog for one year, which will include my turning fifty-five, and see what I find.
Who knows? Maybe fifty-five will be something fantastic...like the New Me.
What's it to you, turning the age of Fifty-five? You don't have to be turning it tomorrow, you could have already turned that corner a while back. That part doesn't matter so much.
While it's important what one feels, what matters most of all that one feels, that one feels anything at all.
So, as an exercise in self-examination and a way of getting over an incredible writer's block, I submit this blog to the World Wide Web, and I submit myself to a bit of mirror gazing.
Inspired by the movie "Julie & Julia," I will blog for one year, which will include my turning fifty-five, and see what I find.
Who knows? Maybe fifty-five will be something fantastic...like the New Me.
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Jackaranda Graphics And Sound
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Furniture As Memory
Labels:
biography,
Fifty Five Is the New,
furniture,
memories,
music,
Randelyn Webster,
writing
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