music library magic eight ball meme

How does the world see you?
All Out of Love (Air Supply)
Power (Marillion)

Will I have a happy life?
The Maker (Daniel Lanois)
Montreal (Marillion)

What do my friends really think of me?
The Abduction of Margaret (The Decemberists)
Boy Meets Girl (Bleu)

How can I make myself happy?
It Falls Back on Me (Avion)
Driving With the Brakes On (Del Amitri)

What should I do with my life?
A Thing About You (Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers)
Drama Queen (The Nines)

Will I ever have children?
Amazing Grace (Daniel Lanois)
A Dip in the Ocean (Fountains of Wayne)

What is some good advice for me?

O Marie (Daniel Lanois)
Defying Gravity (Idina Menzel + Kristen Chenowith)

How will I be remembered?
Santa Baby (Eartha Kitt and Henri Rene)
Archaeologist (Wintersleep)

What is my signature dancing song?
She's Leaving Home (The Beatles)
49 Bye-Byes (Crosby, Stills, and Nash)

What do I think my current theme song is?

She's Leaving Home (The Wellingtons)
Never Be One Until You're Two (Tim Christensen)

What does everyone else think my current theme song is?

Chances (Air Supply)
Far Beyond Driven (Tim Christensen)

What song will play at my funeral?
Just Another (Pete Yorn)
Pour My Love (Marillion)

What is my Day going to be like?
Ice (Daniel Lanois)
Power (Marillion)

Should I publish this meme?
If All Else Fails (Richard Page)
Lena (The Nines)

A tree

As we selected our Christmas tree a few nights ago we didn't realize how soon we would be saying goodbye to another very important tree.  When we moved to our neighborhood ten years ago, the street was lined with lovely trees.  They flowered in springtime (although for the past several years spring came more like February than April).  The trees grew and grew (as trees do) and as their spreading roots spread toward the curbs, driveways and foundations of the townhomes along the row they started chopping them down over the past two years. Fast forward to this past Sunday afternoon. We were heading out for some holiday errands; I stepped outside and noticed Owen standing in front of the trunk of the tree across from our house.  His hand was on a patch of bright orange paint near the base.  He knew, even as he asked me, what the marking meant.

I must pause here, to explain the significance of the tree.  Our street is currently home to 12 kids under 18.  Over the years there have been as many as 21.  This tree, most likely a Jeffrey Pine,  is our neighborhood tree.  It is the climbing tree, the pinata tree, the shade tree, and for our family the picture tree. First and last days of school, concerts, and any and all special events mean a photo by the tree.  Even the three teens on our street have precious memories of this tree.

"Can I climb it one more time?" asked Owen.  I assured him that the crew wouldn't be coming to cut it down on a Sunday afternoon.  We headed out, the day got busy (as days do), and several hours later we were so busily trimming low branches off our holiday fir and stabilizing its metal tree stand that the encroaching fate of our neighborhood tree was forgotten.  (irony much?)

The following night during the kids' karate class I remembered.

Owen had just finished his blue belt test (he passed!) and came over to sit by me as Delaney came in for her test.  I pulled him close and whispered, "It's Monday.  I really hope they haven't cut down the tree yet." His reaction was serious and stoic.  I can't remember if we exchanged any words, but I remember our hands squeezing together and me hugging him close.   Both kids ended up passing their belt test; they had been working toward the goal for so many weeks and had both tested more than once.  Their success put us in a celebratory mood and we stopped for a treat on the way home. We didn't think about the tree.  We pulled in the garage and Laney sat down to finish her homework.  Owen's homework for the week was special; he was to sit outside and make sensory night observations, then write interesting sentences based on these observations.  He asked me to go outside with him.  He raised the garage door halfway as I stepped from the house into the garage to join him.  "They cut it down!" was all I heard before he plunged into my arms.  We cried.  A lot.  The first thing he said was "Can I go count the rings to see how old it was?" When he returned he said,  "well, the good thing is if they take the stump out there will be more grassy area to play in with my friends." My heart swelled, because looking on the bright side is not always his go-to solution. (smile:) We cried some more, went and got Delaney, cried some more, came in and texted the neighbors and dadddy, went outside and hugged the neighbors, came in and called daddy in Chicago. He read us The Giving Tree over the phone and wished he was here so we could all console each other.  Trees are supposed to outgrow their children, not the other way around.

The swamp monster and the baby mermaid

First meeting
Swamp Monster came creeping in from the garage, it's camouflaged netted skin swishing with it's movements.  It's monosyllabic utterings were sweet and short; similar to a cat's mewing. Soon enough a new sheet-covered creature appeared on the stairs, and the two moved close (shielded face to shielded face) and began communicating in an unknown tongue. Swamp Monster shed his skin, and the second creature followed suit.  When Swamp Monster covered up again,  the second creature revealed a shimmering blue mermaid tail.  They maneuvered cautiously around the space,  careful not to get in each other's way. When they got hungry and thirsty, Swamp Monster requested swamp cheerios and swamp slime, while Baby Mermaid wanted only water.  They each found some toys but engaged only in parallel play. Swamp Monster mentioned that he liked to swim in the toxic bog. Later Swamp Monster rested in a slime pit and Baby Mermaid nearby in a golden clamshell.  Here is where the conversation begins.

"I live in the deepest part of the sea," Swamp Monster said.

"And I live near the top," responded Baby Mermaid.

"Do you have friends there?" Baby Mermaid asked Swamp Monster.

"What is a friend?" replied Swamp Monster, playing the part.

"A friend is someone you like and you can play with." answered Baby Mermaid. Then she continued matter-of-factly, "We can't be friends because you live in the deep and I live at the top. I don't know what you are like because you are used to being you and I'm used to being me."