Rachel Bissex lit up a room. Not just the stage, not just when she spoke or sang, not only when all eyes were on her. Even when we came to see her just two months ago, in her home, where she was playing cards with her son and winding down from a busy weekend, while she was coughing but laughing and talking of the future, even as all of those things went on around her and inside her, even then, she lit up a room.

I knew her for only four years. Some touch of fate, some hand that led her to all good things she'd done, led her to our town to play. My boyfriend's cousin, a folk singer; the opening act in a small local folk series; a friend and relative who just happened to be coming to town and needed a place to crash. Who knew? Who knew where this visit would lead, how her music would touch us?

Her visit led to our own. We came to Massachusetts to see her play, and again to Vermont, and many times after that. We stayed with her and stayed up late, drinking wine and watching her husband's movies, talking about music, hearing her daughter play the violin, talking about family, walking to the edge of Lake Champlain with her and their dog, cooking acorn squash....so many little things, so little time...

...but the thought that keeps returning, the untangible element that my mind keeps returning to when I am reminded that we will never see Rachel again, is the love she had with her husband and family. It is difficult to explain...you might have a chance to understand if you can hear it in her songs. It was something you just knew, you just saw, you just felt when you were in her presence, and especially in the presence of her with her husband, or with her children. It is the kind of love that we all wish we could have, the kind we all seem to search for and few of us seem to find. That is the part of our loss that is the most unbearable.

...but even with that thought, it is hard to stay sad for long. Listen to her music, her happiest music. Somehow the sadness stops, even if for just a moment, when that happiness and brightness and light of hers shines through. Rachel is here now. I think we can all feel that.

When we drove away from the services on Wednesday, as the sun went down, and the moon came up, we all knew that every single person driving home that night saw that moon. It was huge, and bright, and reflecting off of the snow, and there could not have been a more beautiful night for Rachel.

I truly want to thank all of you who've left your condolences regarding our loss of our cousin. If you haven't already, please take a few minutes to visit her website, listen to a few songs, or buy a CD. She will live on through her music, and she will touch your heart as well.


Sun goes down, moon comes up,
lighting the earth just enough
to see my face looking up
at her full size on the horizon.
Mama did her best, it's true...
Papa, too.

Now they're gone, I'm on my own,
moon will see me safely home.
As I drive this road alone,
She will bathe me in white light, in white light.

Sun comes up, moon disappears,
but she'll be back later on, my dears.
Tonight she'll shine with a little less light,
but with all her might.
I pushed a boy up to the world,
Now he wears a uniform...

I bore a son, my only one,
moon will see him safely home.
As he walks his path alone,
she will bathe him in white light, in white light.

It's time to go, I hope you know,
moon will see you safely home.
As you live your life alone,
she will bathe you in white light, in white light,
In white light.

Rachel Bissex

We found out late last night that our cousin Rachel Bissex has lost her battle with breast cancer. Rachel was a beautiful, powerful, wonderful woman who was responsible for reuniting my husband with a side of his family that he had been apart from for most of his adult life. Due mainly to religious and lifestyle differences, this separation was something that could only be repaired by Rachel and her music. She had a gift that put her deepest thoughts and feelings into some of most soulful and honest lyrics I have ever heard. We are blessed to have been able to see her right before Christmas. She looked beautiful. We are luckier than most people who've lost someone they love...we have her music to remember her by. I will remember Rachel onstage, laughing; walking with her near Lake Champlain; laying under the Leonids; and dancing, giggling, always singing.

Internal Revenue Servitude

With the speediest attention ever paid to something so unsatisfying, we have managed (nearly entirely due to my husband's legwork) to pay our taxes already.

Though it is somewhat more satisfying when you are poor, and you know that the government actually owes you.

Until, of course, that fateful moment, when you discover that the proud and respectable contribution one of you made, in the form of military service to your country, is being rewarded by the collection of unpaid debt to a life-insurance plan that you know you refused even when the drill sergeant was screaming in your face that you were a damn idiot for turning it down. Damn you and your $262!!

At least there will still be some left for us...but somewhere, in a tiny filing cabinet far, far away, is proof that the rest of that money is rightfully ours. Uncle Sam Stikes Again. :-)

Lay Back, And Think Of England

I took a break from the routine and went to see Dr. Ruth Westheimer speak last night. What an adorable little woman!

You would think the adorableness would wear off after you heard "penis" come out of her mouth fifteen times, but it doesn't. Not even after "masturbation". NOT EVEN after "anal sex".

But she's right, you know...in her quote from the Talmud..."A lesson taught in humor is a lesson retained." She alone is evidence of the truth of that!

...and as I walked out of the auditorium, I was only left pondering one thought:

What percentage of the audience went home...and got laid?

Patience

It's all about the inanimate objects today.

Throwing themselves upon my head, breaking themselves so my car door won't shut, driving themselves into my path so I almost rear-end them. I suppose this space heater is probably going to shoot flames at me before the day is done.

At least it's sunny out!

Oh wait, skin cancer. Nevermind.

Never fight an inanimate object.
P. J. O'Rourke
US humorist & political commentator (1947 - )

Drawings

This has to be one of the saddest stories I've read in awhile.

An elderly man is sick and hospitalized, and his friends decide to clean up his apartment and throw out all his artwork? I don't care how offensive they may have found it to be. Stick it in a closet somewhere! Anything! The poor man.

Was he just a dirty old man? Just collecting smut? I don't know. But it seems as if some of it may have been good. Or, in the very least, something he put work into creating. And now it's in the hands of strangers. Or in the trash. And he is going to have to come home to nothing.

Some people just don't appreciate the healing art of creation.

Frank Zappa

I've finally gotten around to reading the recent biography of Frank Zappa by Barry Miles. I'm only about a quarter of the way through it, but MAN, what a CRAZY childhood the guy had! Some highlights:

His father worked for a military installation that tested various chemicals and things, and he often brought home MERCURY for them to PLAY WITH. Frank and his brother would put it on the floor and pound it with a hammer, sending little metallic balls splattering all over the walls, till they were coated with a grey film.

His father also brought home bags of DDT to kill bugs, which he claimed was safe enough you could eat it.

Needless to say, he was a sick child.

If you've never had a chance to listen to him, the website - which can entertain you for awhile on it's own - has Zappa Radio...though I'm sure the novice listener may only be able to stand a few minutes or so! Great stuff.

You Are Independent Sexy

Sometimes I really like these quizzes. ;-)

You drive men crazy with your "playing hard to get act" Except, it's really not an act at all. You're a strong, sexy woman with her own life and interests. And makes men even more interested in you! What Kind of Sexy Are You? Take This Quiz :-) Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.

I *wasn't* going to do this, but I like it, and I every time I feel I bring this blog down with me I need to lift it's spirits a bit afterwards, sooo.....

From Jack, via April:


YOUR SENIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL

[What year was it?]
1993-1994

[What were your three favorite bands?]
Probably Ani Difranco, Fleetwood Mac and a lot of Ska.

[What was your favorite outfit?]
Anything coupled with black boots, generic docs or otherwise. But Catholic School required uniforms, so there wasn't much room for interpretation beyond skirt length.

[What was up with your hair?]
It wasn't quite as big as 1992.

[Who were your best friends?]
Pam. That's it.

[What did you do after school?]
Took the bus home or went to Pam's house. I got by w/o doing much homework.

[Did you take the bus?]
Yes, for like a half hour. Valley kids like me always got screwed.

[Who did you have a crush on?]
Senior year? Probably Danny Hogue. Dumb redneck.

[Did you fight with your parents?]
Often. But we got over it.

[Who did you have a CELEBRITY crush on?]
I don't really know. I've never crushed on celebrities much.

[Did you smoke cigarettes?]
Yeah, just to be cool. Led to 1 1/2 packs a day though, later. Yuck.

[Did you lug all of your books around in your backpack all day because you were too nervous to find your locker?]
No. Small school, convenient locker. Combo 36-0-36. (I can't remember actor's names, but I remember that stuff. Real good.)

[Did you have a 'clique'?]
Do two people make a clique?

[Did you have "The Max" like Zach Kelly and Slater?]
What?

[Admit it, were you popular?]
With myself.

[Who did you want to be just like?]
Janis Joplin.

[What did you want to be when you grew up?]
A veterinarian. Couldn't deal with so many math classes, though.

[Where did you think you'd be at the age you are now?]
Married with children and lots of dogs in a big house. Ha!

Spring

I am forcing myself to write. Bringing random thoughts together, those ones floating around in my head that can't quite grab on to each other. It's like the part of a puzzle that's a big blue sky, and where the hell are you supposed to start? All the pieces seem to fit together, yet none of them do. You can have the corners, you have the outline, you have the edges...and then you're left with that wide open space where the sky's supposed to be. And too many pieces to even know where to begin.

I get bored very easily. With everything. Jobs, places, people, events, you name it. Call it restlessness, call it indecision, call it grass-is-always-greener syndrome, call it passion for new things. Maybe THAT'S why I've had so many apartments. Is it necessary to change this? I just don't want to be stuck in the routine. Any routine. I think that's why I like this town. Because even though in many ways it stays the same, the population is always changing, the people are always new and bright and eager, it just seems to refresh itself every year. Honestly, I think that if I were to be attracted to moving anywhere, it would be the only place I feel like I could be MORE stimulated - NYC. There was some quote I read a long time ago...I've just located it again now, from a newspaper article by Mary Schmich (not by Kurt Vonnegut, as it was wrongly attributed) some years ago - "Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft. Travel." That, combined with Laffing Hippo's recent accolade to the things she likes about living in New York make me think I really would enjoy it.

But moving won't cure boredom on it's own. It seems like everything these days is moving in very slow motion. The job search (because my current one is temporary) has been skidding to it's screeching halt for about the past six months. I have three credits remaining to finish my degree, but I owe the school money and won't be able to finish till I pay that off. If I get a permanent job here, that would put me well one my way, in addition to giving me a discount on tuition. If you'd asked me a year ago, I would have thought I'd be at that point already. Stupid money. Blech. Luckily, this winter hasn't been overly cold or snowy...I'm sure I'd be feeling worse if that weren't the case. But these few warm days we've had have given me the itch for more and I still have two months to wait. And all these contributions to my subtle discontent don't even begin to illustrate the effect that it has on my relationship. How can you possibly be happy in a relationship when you're not happy with yourself? But most of the things that would put me on a better track to happiness are unattainable without a better income. That's just downright shitty to say or think, because yes, yes, I know, money doesn't buy happiness. But I'm not even talking about excess. I'm not even talking about material possessions. I'm talking about a job that makes me happy. I'm talking about school. I'm talking about a suitable living situation.

Yesterday, I took the day off from work. A cold, a pounding headache, and a sinking feeling of not wanting to go back in at all. The cold has lifted, the headache is only slightly lingering, but the that sinking feeling is still holding on.

I'm back at work, and just in time, it's about to snow.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

(I'm reposting this, since there are now additional pictures here.)


Welcome to my home. Well, not really mine...I haven't lived there in over 10 years. But, it won't be ours much longer. My parents have decided to sell it and move in April. They're starting to pass things on to me already. Can't say I'm thrilled, but the new place sounds nice. More land, actually, but fewer stairs. They're "planning ahead".

Ah, well, life goes on...

Take A Moment To Collect Your Thoughts

It could not possibly have been a more beautiful day. We've had poor luck at camp lately; always seems to rain. But Saturday was clear, sunny and warm.

Almost takes all stress away. :-)

This Ain't Band Camp

Case of Saranac lager: check.
propane: check.
brand spanking new binoculars that haven't been used since christmas: check.
homemade chicken soup, weiners 'n buns: check.
johnny cash: check.

Ability to drink for a second night and stay up way too late at camp: damn, I can't seem to find that anywhere!

Thursday, 12:53 pm.
32 degrees.
Cloudy, flurries.

A night of mildly intoxicating revelry is nearly upon us.

Train of thought post commences. Three and a half more hours of work. Check email, check blogs, work, check email, check blogs, work. Get paid. Shop for groceries. Care for animals. Care for wild animals. Care for myself. Wings. Beer. Jukebox love. Handy Delivery Taxi. Sleep. Headache. Cleaning. Packing. Camping. Fishing. Smelling like a fire. Mountain road. Hot shower. Superbowl.

Romantic, in that waterfall sort of way.

Happy Holiday

I guess the horoscope was right, since this is my fourth post in the last 3 hours.

However, I would be remiss, as would all PA bloggers, if I didn't take a moment to wish you a HAPPY GROUNDHOG DAY!!!!

Sorry, Georgia, it's ours. :-)

It's All About Us Fire Signs

Perhaps taking a little cue from Tara and her fortune cookies, the humor and thought I receive from reading my horoscope occasionally is worth a post or two, I think:

The good news is this: For the moment, you'll be especially unbridled in the department of conversation -- an astrological 'additive' you really didn't need -- but you'll also be so wildly, unpredictably charming that no one will mind. The bad news? You'll be feeling so absolutely free to say whatever you want, without any guilt, for once, that after this 'gift' from the heavens has passed, you'll miss it. There's only one thing to do: Take advantage of it while it's here.

In intimate conversations, or even in group settings, there are times when my words are definitly free and unrestricted. There are also times I hold back. I'm sure the tendency towards both of these can be good or bad. There are times when my words might get me in trouble. Maybe I don't think things through clearly enough before I blurt something out. I don't necessarily consider their effects. I think there is something to be said for being "unbridled in the department of conversation", however. Holding back those deepest thoughts or opinions can cause just as many problems. Why not admit them? At least people will know how you feel, even if it comes as a shock to them.

So I'm told here that today may be a day of wild and unpredictable charm. Hell, I can't argue with that! :-) I also can't argue with the fact that, once this burst of openness is waning, I'll be missing it. I do close myself off at times; it might be some form of self-protection, some fear of exposing too much of myself at one time.
But I suppose if there's anything you want me to comment on, now's the time to ask!

On the Bandwagon, Arms Flailing

Alright, after much personal introspection I have decided to try out this Haloscan business. Of course, doing this has deleted all of my comments from previous posts. I suppose I could go through the hassle of trying to retrieve them all...after all, your words are important to me. But, eh...what's done is done. Anyway, with skepticism and caution:

Haloscan commenting and trackback have been added to this blog.

So say something. It suddenly looks too quiet around here!

(update! : hey, i didn't lose them after all, duh, they're all in my gmail inbox! yay for ridiculously huge amounts of storage!)

Dragostea Tin Tei

I need to give a big loud shout out to Couch for linking to this guy. You have no idea what level of entertainment you can bring to the day with this. PLEASE go there right now.

LOL, all day...made work so much fun just watching him!