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Posts Tagged ‘snow day’

My dad used to have a sign taped on the front of one of his tall, metal filing cabinets that said

Due to lack of interest, tomorrow has been cancelled

I guess he thought it was funny. The other sign was this and when I asked my mom about it once she said this is how he truly felt about his life. I don’t quite believe it, but he probably felt this way somewhat and he must have thought it was funny, too.

When my life is over
And my time has come to pass,
I hope they bury me upside-down,
So the world may kiss my ass

My dad was an atheist, but I can tell you that when he was dying of cancer, he told me that God got the aging and dying thing wrong—too much pain. God was something he referred to as a matter of course. It was a concept that we all grew up with, maybe him especially, having been a kid in a kosher household and all. When I’d talk to him about his childhood and religion and whether or not he believed in God, he would say he was an atheist, but he would tear up. I thought that meant he really did believe in God. It was a bit confusing, but also I was in awe. It was like God was right there with us when he talked about Hungary and his bar mitzvah and his mother and father, all his friends running around being bad young boys, his younger brother, his older sisters, the lumber business his father and uncle ran. When he ate pork at the age of 13 because he was curious and he didn’t believe the stuff he was taught anyway. He talked about the dishes and the milk and the meat and why. Having been brought up without religion, I listened with intent. Like if it made enough sense, I would understand something. He had his stories and I had the pictures from them. I loved my dad so much.

Remember, you keepers of the truth, I want a banjo played at my funeral. I know there will be Shape Note singing, so that’s not a thing anyone needs to remember.

I like this song my kid turned me on to last year. The video is goofy and makes no sense. What’s the narrative here exactly? Nonetheless, 13 million hits don’t lie.

the fiddle and the banjo. Like the song Roseville Fair which I used to sing to my kids as a lullaby.

Rock me momma.

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Greetings, my little cutie-patooties!

I’ve got a terrible cold, one which I valiantly fought for weeks but to which I finally succumbed 4 days ago, ugh.

I’m grateful for the SNOW STORM we got last night—our first of the winter. I could gas on about the lack of snow in New England and crab about the crazy too-early storm in October, but I’m not gonna. The kids had a snow day so I was able to crawl back to bed at about 7:30 this morning after not having to do my usual SAHM stuff. I slept until 11 am. I WENT TO ELEVEN and that was nice.

This week is all about preparations for the Amherst Regional High School musical for which Violet sewed costumes, as well as for the annual Viennese Waltz at Annie’s school this Saturday. The girls have been trying on their fabulous frocks and have been helping each other with hair and make-up and hats and gloves. I tried on my own frock and you know, I didn’t feel too bad about it (especially due to the butt- and thigh-tightening hose, made by Spanx, that I purchased at Target. This was a first for me and I thought I’d hate them, but they are not tight or uncomfortable at all, so my fears were unfounded). Tomorrow night we will see Guys and Dolls (so excited) and Saturday night, we’ll be working shifts, eating Viennese-type desserts, and dancing ’til our butts fall off and in my case, due to actual heels (very rare), possible blisters or at least foot discomfort until the last 45 minutes when the music shifts from live piano and violin to a total funk meltdown in which all of the moms kick off their shoes and dance like mad, completely ignoring their embarrassed teens, who honestly are having such a good time of their own that they forget to notice after the first 5 minutes or so.

birthday hat

the amazing Stubby Kaye as Nicely Nicely, singing the mock gospel song Sit Down You’re Rocking the Boat from the movie version of “Guys and Dolls”

 I miss that kind of singing–the pipes, the presence, the physical and vocal control. Glory Be!

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