Music of the Spheres : My Favorite Things

More than 10 years ago, I finally (after 3 years!) saved enough money to buy one of these gorgeous and melodious wind chimes. The Music of the Spheres vend at the Bristol Renaisance Fair every summer. They have a wonderful shop under a huge old tree. All their chimes are on display in various scales and octaves (bass-tenor-alto-soprano). You can pull the clapper and just let the music flow through you ... And pick your favorite!

My consistent favorite has always been the Mongolian Tenor (listen!). Check out the rest of the options, too. They put up MP3s so you can hear them online. It's not quite like standing under that tree and listening to these chimes, or even on my porch, but it will give you an idea of the appeal. Do you hear how they RINGGGGGGG!

What's so neat about these chimes is that they are perfectly tuned in several octaves. There's at least one to suite every taste. In Texas, Christian even worked with one of the Music of the Spheres chime-makers (That's before I knew him). He was the guy who cut the pipes ...

Why am I thinking of it now? April is coming. 7 years ago, I was very pregnant. Because we were preparing for a natural childbirth, I was looking for ways to rest and relax and "open" (why fight the inevitable). CL even made me a tape of those chimes softly ringing for 45 minutes. It's still a favorite. Sometimes, he does some really wonderful and thoughtful things for me--that was one of them. ;-)

The other thing that helped a lot in those childbirth "opening" meditations was visualizing a flower opening. I had a soapdish that was the perfect image for helping that cervix to open and let that baby through ...

It worked, too. I was at work until about 1 pm. I had gone to see the midwife at noon. She said I was already 6 cm dilated, and couldn't figure out why I was still calm and not having big contractions yet--well, something was happening, but it wasn't too bad yet. She told me to go home and have a shake spiked with castor oil which (I think) was supposed to start up the contractions again ... I labored at home until about 6 pm when CL took me to the hospital. At times I didn't think we were going to make it. By 8 pm, we had Oliver--and the whole world changed!

Knowing : Part 2 (and a Bit o' Luck)

Signs of Spring : This is the Cherry Tree outside Meme's window in Roanne, France.

My Women's Group met the other night. The topic was Luck, but we stretched it into the areas of Coincidence and Knowing and Intuition (and lots of other things).

I love this group! Real conversation and sharing. I always leave feeling really fortunate for the life and choices I've made ... that I can spend a few hours sewing on Sundays, that I have a loving, funny, supportive husband who feeds me and does his own laundry, that I have a decent job to keep us comfortable. After the Real Work retreat, I was feeling a bit blue--like the real world was too loud and busy to hear the spirit speak. But I do hear it more often than these busy moms with still young children. I try to remind them that having young kids is only temporary--it gets better as they get older and more independent--at least that's my perception. For confidentiality's sake I can't really tell the other women's stories, but I'll share mine ...

We got to talking about relationships and how the lucky ones seem to work out, even with brief courtships. How do you know it's the right person if you've only known them for 2 months? I told the story of Ma and Pa and the parade picture ... It still amazes me that that worked out for them!

We asked :
* What's the luckiest thing that ever happened to you?
* Do we make our own luck? or bad luck?
I think we concluded that it's all in perception. We could all think of incidents that seemed really tragic at the time, but it's what we each did with it that turned most of these seemingly horrible experiences into something good or redeeming.

I had opened the evening with the Taoist folk tale (Thanks, Dottie!) about the farmer who's horse ran away ... In the end, it's all in how you look at things if they be good or bad, happy or tragic. How do we know what the master plan is, or what our part in it is?

I said I could remember when I was 6 years old, waking up one morning with the knowledge that I would one day marry a French-man and that I'd have a boy-child. Now, a lot happens between getting that glimpse at age 6 and when it really happens and knowing that was the sign, and not just a passing fancy. (I was sure Oliver would be a girl when I was pregnant ... And there were times I thought I'd never find a mate ...) Most of the time, I don't KNOW until I can look back and say, "Yes, I remember that moment. That was the signpost on this path to now ..." Hindsight is 20/20.

A week ago, I took the dogs for their nightly walk and got a very clear message from Keba (my dearly departed dog of 12 years) that I needed to light a candle when I got back home. J (an old friend) and Cacco (Keba's litter-mate) needed the light and prayers. The next morning, I got an email from J saying Cacco died. The bone cancer finally took her at 14 years old.

Knowing : Part 1

One of the ways I KNOW I'm on my path [Joseph Campbell-speak], doing what I'm supposed to be doing is by certain cues of familiar and important things in my life ... Coincidences that have to be more than just mere co-incidence. ["Coincidence? I think not!"]

One is a piece of music : Bach's Unaccompanied Cello Suites. I LOVE the first one as done by YoYo Ma. I had always wanted to learn to play the cello, but in my small town, I just never had that opportunity. We were lucky to have a jazz band and a Swing Choir and a regular band.



When I first saw Summit Avenue Coop, it was a drive-by. I saw the windows from the street below, and I knew I wanted to live there. This was the Coop for me! When I first membershipped at Summit Coop, I met Miriam who would be my roommate for a few years. She showed me the room (1/2 of her double) that was available. It was big and roomy with 5 (Count 'em! 5) windows and a glimpse of Lake Mendota from that high hill.

The signs came :
1) Miriam played cello. She had been a music and Spanish major in college.
2) On her music stand was the sheet music for Bach's Unaccompanied Cello Suites.
Wow! That's tough one for even a professional . I think I even asked her to play some for me. She did.
3) She had even met Yoyo Ma in person and gotten to play his cello. Wow!



Yoyo Ma plays the Unaccompanied Bach Cello Suite No. 1
Wow! Even listening to this piece of music now sends chills up my spine!

There were lots of coincidences early on between me and Miriam. It started out as a good thing back in those days.

Great Gray Owl in the Back Yard

We saw a beautiful Great Gray Owl in the back yard yesterday evening.

[This photo is supposedly in the public domain from Wallpaper Downloads.]

Noble-looking, isn't he? There he was staring at us staring at him through the kitchen window ... then he flew off with a spectacular wing-span.

So what do we do with all this snow? Build a Quinzhee!

Our friend Jef convinced a couple of Cool Dads in the neighborhood to build a Quinzhee. It's kind of like a dug-out igloo. I finally got to "experience" the frosty hideaway tonight.

It's pretty amazing that with the heat of a single candle and our own body heat, the Quinzhee gets warmer than you'd think it would inside. Apparently the air in the snow pack acts as insulation. And it's a great shelter from the wind.

The entrance is pretty low-down to the ground. I didn't think I'd fit through the door, but Jef (never one to be deterred) told me to lay down, put my arms out and he pulled me in. I felt like a Mumma Bear in her den with her cubs. It was kind of neat. We sang a few songs, read a few stories with Oliver and Aiden. When I exited, I again laid down on my back and Jef pushed me out by my feet. By then, the sun had set, and I could see a magnificent sky-full of bright stars through the branches of the trees. It was like being born again! From this cozy little womb of the Quinzhee out into the cool star-lit world outside.



The yard where the Quinzhee is built overlooks Lake Winnebago. The view is magnificent! And because their backyard is a Lake, there is less light pollution from the city.

What else do we do on the Lake?

Oliver and Maggie
In the distance, you can see a few ice fishing shacks. They had to be removed this past Sunday. It amazing how a whole other village crops up on the frozen lakes during the winter months. I've never gone ice fishing, so I'm not quite sure what the attraction is ...

You'd think a frozen lake would be silent and sleeping ... Guess again! The ice settles. The frozen lake is more like a drum tightly wound. The sheet of ice settles, and makes plenty of noise in the process. Listen to this Lost and Found Sound Clip to get an idea of what I'm talking about.