Not the fun parent

Confession: I am not a fun parent. I like to plan fun things for my kids to do while I watch from the sidelines. I just don't engage well in imaginary play. In fact, the last time my daughter and I played with her dolls, I dressed my doll in a conservative tunic, leggings, and hipster glasses readying her for a day perusing the aisles of used bookstores. K's doll was decked out in tulle and glitter and big sunglasses and was headed to the ball for an evening of dancing.

"You're dressing your doll in that?" K inquired as I held up my doll.

Playing with my kids just doesn't come naturally for me.

Conversely, you will often find my husband playing with our kids--jumping on the trampoline, playing catch, wrestling in the living room, playing tag in the yard--he has earned the fun parent award.

My husband playing catch with our kids while I watch from our hammock

There is one thing, though, that I love to do with my kids: Music.

"Take Up Your Spade"

Found this little diddy, "Take Up Your Spade" by Sara Watkins, tonight as I listened to music on Spotify. It's a beautiful melody with inspirational words. It reminds me to keep going and to be thankful for life. Do yourself a favor and listen to the song while you read the lyrics. Enjoy.

Sun is up, a new day is before you
Sun is up, wake your sleepy soul
Sun is up, hold on to what is yours
Take up your spade and break ground

Shake off your shoes, 
Leave yesterday behind you
Shake off your shoes, 
But forget not where you’ve been
Shake off your shoes,
Forgive and be forgiven
Take up your spade and break ground

Give thanks, for all that you’ve been given
Give thanks, for who you can become
Give thanks, for each moment and every crumb
Take up your spade and break ground
Break ground, break ground, break ground

The joy of making music

This weekend I spent some much needed time with friends at the Flatwater Music Festival in Hastings. Three years ago I stumbled upon this festival when I saw a flier advertising it at the Back Alley Bakery (quite possibly the best bakery in central Nebraska). For two years I attended as a festival goer, enjoying the music and local artists. This year was different because the band I used to sing in when we lived in Ogallala got a chance to open up the festival and play on Friday night. 

I've always had a bad case of stage fright that comes out in my singing with a trembly vibrato and flat notes. It's been almost a year since we all played together, so it took me quite a while to work through my nerves. Our sound check a few hours before was shaky at best. I had lugged my guitar along but left it in the car because I was so nervous that I didn't think I could play and sing at the same time. I wasn't even sure I could make any sort of sensible notes come out of my mouth (especially considering how terrible I sounded during our sound check). After the sound check, I was convinced that our performance would be a flop. I had visions of tripping over mic cords and falling into banjos. The worst-case scenarios continued to build in my mind as the clock ticked closer to performance time. While we waited to take stage, we continued to play through our set list, pausing here and there to joke around. About a half hour before we went on stage, I suddenly realized I was with a few of my best friends doing something I love: making music. I've spent a lot of my life worrying and stressing about being absolutely perfect that I've missed opportunities to just enjoy moments. I didn't want this moment to be stolen by worry. It took a lot of inner-head talk, but before we went on stage, I vowed to just have fun and enjoy the time I had with my friends. And 'ya know what? It worked. I've been performing in different capacities for many years, but this is probably first time I've really enjoyed myself.

On the drive home I was coming off of a serious music high. I couldn't help but think back through all the great memories I have: high school choir concerts (Celeste, Hannah, and Autumn--remember our last concert and what we "wore" beneath our choir robes?!), directing musicals with my husband, dancing with my niece Alexis on the deck at my mother in-law's house to Old Crow Medicine Show, falling in love with a clean-cut guy in a pink tie across the room my first day of college choir (that was Nate in case you were wondering!), playing and singing on a street corner in Norfolk with my high school friend Jon, sitting around Bob and Shannon's kitchen table drinking wine and singing...the list of great memories involving music in my life feels endless. All of my closest friendships are with musicians. I wish I could express this in a more eloquent manner; there's just something about making music with people that forges a unique and deep bond. Music has a way of connecting people and forging communities.

I'll end with a few photos from the weekend for your viewing pleasure--

During our performance as we waited for our guest clogger to come join us for a song

On Saturday we played for a group of senior citizens at an assisted living facility in Hastings; they were the best crowd!

We made the front page of the Hastings newspaper!

Watching a Legend

Because I'm a music fanatic, every concert I attend is an emotional experience for me. But Saturday's Bob Dylan concert was off the charts in terms of emotions. First, I was accompanied by an old pal of mine from high school, Hannah. She was my first friend when I moved from Crete to Columbus in 7th grade. We have many memories involving music. Once during our senior year we drove to Omaha to spend the weekend with some of our friends who had graduated the year prior. Of course we stopped at Homer's music in the Old Market. That's when I picked up my first Rilo Kiley album. We drove home that trip with the music seeping out of my crappy 1983 Acura's car speakers; it was silent most of the trip home as we took in Jenny Lewis's amazing lyrics. On another trip to Lincoln, we again stopped at Homer's in the Haymarket, and because we were both broke, we split the cost of Simon and Garfunkel's greatest hits album. It was a two disc collection, and we just shared it. Eventually I think Hannah burned me a copy of the CD. I think Hannah understood me better than most people, and I think part of this stemmed from our connection through music. So when I read that Dylan would be in Omaha, Hannah was the first person I thought of.

When Dylan started playing with his band, a lump formed in my throat. He didn't have a flashy, magical moment where he made a big deal of coming on stage...they just started playing. I couldn't believe I was watching a legend like Dylan, now 71. I wish I could say I've listened to Dylan all my life, but I haven't. In fact, I heard my first Bob Dylan song during my first year of college at UNK when I haphazardly signed up for Dr. Benzel's literature of Walt Whitman and Bob Dylan class. I loved Whitman, and I had heard of Dylan and knew he was cool. I think the first Dylan song I ever heard was "All Along the Watchtower," and I wasn't impressed with his nasally tone and slurred words. But after I heard Dr. Benzel talk about these songs with this glazed over look in her eyes and compare them to Whitman and Sandburg's poems, I wanted more. I was drawn to her obsession with Dylan. Throughout the course we listened to and studied many of Dylan's songs (and Woody Guthrie's songs!). The ones I remember the most are "Man on the Street," "Who Killed Davey Moore," "He Was a Friend of Mine," "Only a Hobo," and "The Death of Emmett Till." I was intrigued by such activism. Needless to say, Dylan is about all I listened to that semester. I was hooked after that. The entire concert was like this for me: floods of memories with every tune.

I wasn't particularly blown away with his performance; I texted a fellow music nerd that I needed some sort of app to be able to use in order to decipher Dylan's mumbling. But it didn't matter...I still loved every minute. He played many of his newer tunes that I'm not as familiar with, but he did play some oldies: "Ballad of a Thin Man," "Highway 61 Revisited " Like a Rolling Stone," "All Along the Watchtower," and he ended with an encore--"Blowing in the Wind." The last song was awesome. There were so many middle-aged adults in Chuck Taylor shoes and earth toned sweaters waving lighters around for it. Each time Dylan played the harmonica, the crowd leaned forward to listen in a bit. It wasn't a particularly rowdy crowd, but there was a sort of reverence present for the legend on stage.

I should mention that his opening act, Mark Knopfler (lead singer of Dire Straits), was amazing. What an incredible musician. His set ranged from rock, to jazz, to blues, to celtic. I hadn't heard much of his music before, but I have been listening to him quite a bit since Saturday.

Unfortunately I don't have pictures to remember the event as cameras were banned from the auditorium (they seriously confiscated batteries from the devices!). But, I think it's fitting that all I have to remember the concert are memories and words.  All in all, the concert was cathartic and worth the money.

'Ya Heard?

This summer I've been soaking up some good tunes to get me through a tough class and to keep me occupied on my many trips from Ogallala to Omaha, or Omaha to Lincoln, etc. Thanks to NPR and Spotify, I've stumbled across some solid tracks and albums. Here's what's been flowing from my earbuds lately (along with a bit of my rambling commentary):

• "Americana" from Neil Young and Crazy Horse--I have to say, this record is best enjoyed driving on an open road--think some highway that passes through a small town every seven miles. It's a bit of a dark twist on the traditional folk songs we all know---like Travel On, This Land is Your Land, Oh Susannah, etc. The songs are still recognizable; they're just roughed up a bit with a Neil Young flare.
• "The Only Place" by Best Coast---I heard this band for the first time last night on WBEZ Chicago's Sound Opinions broadcasted on Omaha Public Radio. I fell in love right away. Her pop voice and catchy melodies make it the perfect summer album. Normally I'm skeptical of poppy music, but the depth of her lyrics make the album endearing.
• Sun Kil Moon's "Among the Leaves"--I loved this band when I was an angst ridden teenage girl. I loved that nobody knew who the band was, and I loved the lead singer's, Mark Kozelek, smooth, haunting voice. It's one of those that hangs in the air like a stale cigarette. This is a great late night album paired well with low lighting and coffee (as cliche as that sounds). I read a review recently that criticized the sullen nature of the album as well as the reflective insights on aging---perhaps my recent struggle with growing older is what's drawn me to the album. This album does have some strong language, so proceed with caution if you're sensitive to that sort of thing.
• And if these don't fit your fancy, here are a few more artists I've been digging on this summer: Band of Horses, Carolina Chocolate Drops, Sean Hayes, and Brandi Carlile.

Happy listening!

A deep imprint

My friend Ryan runs a home medical equipment business, which means he often visits patients in their homes in order to get them what they need to make life more pleasant for them when they're ill or in their last days here on earth. I don't know how he does it. The smell of hospitals and sick people makes my stomach turn. The sight of oxygen tanks and tubes sends my heart racing. Ryan's currently working with a patient who used to be a hired hand for his own grandfather, and this patient is one of those who's in his last. Earlier this week he told Ryan he'd like to hear some gospel music. Being the nice guy he is (I have great friends), he gathered our little bluegrass band up and today we drove to this guy's house to put on a little mini concert for this guy, his wife, and his son.

The guy was in a hospital bed and on oxygen. He looked so frail and small in his bed. His wife stood barefoot, leaning against a bed post. The son lounged on the bed near his father while the pet Cocker Spaniel slept between the two men.

We started with Gillian Welch's "By the Mark," and the first note out of my mouth was shaky beyond belief. I had shoved my hands deep into my front jeans pockets in an attempt to hide the shaking. Tears welled in my eyes as as I sang "When I cross over, I will shout and sing..." My legs felt rubbery, like they'd give out any moment. I couldn't get my body to stand still--nor could I tame the vibrato in my voice. I've sang this song at least 100 times and know the lyrics by heart, but still I kept my eyes glued to the music. I couldn't make eye contact with the man we were singing to; if I did, I'd lose composure.

Throughout the song my mind wondered to the last time I'd seen someone so sick and frail. I think I was 7 or 8, and it was my grandpa. He had lung cancer. I vaguely remember a hospital room, and his small frame tucked in those sterile looking white hospital blankets. I remember the oxygen tanks and the hum of the machines in the room. I think I remember hearing people cry, but mostly I remember feeling scared out of my mind. I'm not sure what I was scared of. Maybe deep down, I feared that was the last time I'd see my grandpa.

We fumbled our way through many of our songs that are, ironically enough, mostly sad or about death. As we sang, my voice eventually settled and calmed to its original straight, smooth tone. I slowly gained courage to peek at the wife who kept her eyes mostly fixed on her husband, and the son who seemed deep in thought. A few times I glanced at the old man and give him a sort of half-smile as I sang. During one of the songs he stared straight ahead, and I wondered what he was thinking. Was he negotiating with God for more time with his beautiful wife? Was he remembering days spent with his children? Or was he thinking of the long list of regrets we sometimes think of when we come close to death?

Soon other family members crowded into the house, so we ended with "I'll Fly Away"---another song about death. Though it's a hopeful song about being free and joyful to meet the Creator of the universe, I couldn't stop myself from thinking about all of these people who'd soon be without a loved one. The shaking returned and the tips of my ears grew a deep hue of red and felt fiery. I was thankful when the last chord rang. We packed up and drove home, making small talk until we finally got back to Ryan's house. After I shut my front door behind me, I let myself cry for just a few minutes as I remembered the frail little man we sang for and my own grandfather. Those 40 minutes left a deep imprint in my memory; I hope we brought a little joy to Ryan's patient and his family during what I'm sure is a tough time.

Music for your Friday: Bon Iver

I seriously can't get enough Bon Iver lately. Their music is intriguing, calming, and unique all at the same time. Today I ran across a link to this video on Twitter...enjoy!

What I've Been Listening To: Bon Iver

For about eight months I've been diggin' on Bon Iver (a botched spelling that represents French for "good winter"). I think first heard him on NPR's All Things Considered (imagine that!), and have been hooked ever since. I've not experienced music that's both soothing and inspiring...until I first listened to their self-titled album released this last summer. Take a listen to this interview with the lead singer of Bon Iver, Justin Vernon, on NPR's World Cafe. Be sure to listen to the acoustic version of "Beth/Rest" featured on the site. Pure beauty.

16 Again

While in high school, one of my favorite hobbies was finding new music and listening to it for hours. God Speed You Black Emperor!, Death Cab for Cutie, Ani DiFranco, Modest Mouse, Dashboard Confessional, Ella Fitzgerald, Bright Eyes....these musicians and others make up my childhood. Many of my best memories revolve around music...like the first time I heard a Simon and Garfunkel song.

I was 16--a junior in high school, leaving my friend Alex's house in Dan's Aerostar van. We had time to kill before my 11:00 curfew, so we sat in his van and listened to "The Sound of Silence." Part way through the song I sat back with my head resting on the car seat, eyes closed, letting the music surround me. Later that year a friend and I took a road trip to Lincoln to visit Homer's Music Store downtown. We found the Simon and Garfunkel greatest hits, but neither of us had enough money to buy the album ourselves. So we did the only sensible thing: we pooled our money together to buy the album, and we shared it. A year later her dad died, and at his funeral my friend made sure the funeral home played "Bridge Over Troubled Water" though the cheap, crackly speakers didn't do the song justice.

My first "real" concert was a Rilo Kiley concert at Sokol Hall in Omaha. While visiting Homers in the Old Market earlier that year (notice a trend?!), one of the shop employees handed me Rilo Kiley's CD, The Execution of All Things. I fell in love and bought every album after that. When I found out that Jenny Lewis and her band were playing at Sokol, I loaded up my Taurus with three friends, bought enough Clove cigarettes to last us the weekend and had a beautiful evening dancing, singing, and smoking. That night we all crashed on a friend's dorm room floor and left the next morning with smoke in our hair and memories in our head, our feet still tapping to Rilo Kiley songs.

And tonight I feel 16 again. As I dig through a friend's Spotify playlists, I find myself resting my head on the back of my couch, my eyes closed as I let the music surround me.

Spotfiy

If you're a music lover and haven't checked out Spotify yet...then you are lame. Just kidding. But really, you should check it out. It's an online music streaming service that allows you to search artists and add them to playlists. We've upgraded to Spotify Premium so we can download playlists to our iPods and listen to them when not around an internet connection (for example: on our runs). You can also make your playlists public, allowing you to share what you're listening to with Facebook friends or other Spotify users. I love this feature because it allows me to hear what my friends are listening to and find new artists. Take a few minutes and check it out; I'm confident you won't be disappointed! And if you want...click on the links to check out my playlists: Chill, Jesus, Running mix, School.

Ben Sollee

This is what I've been listening to and watching for the past week....I'm absolutely captivated by this performance. With just a cello, a cajon, and a violin---these people make breathtaking music. Watch the way Ben Sollee plays the cello; it's certainly not your grandma's cello playing! He creates beautiful rhythms and even plays it like a guitar in the second song. And the way the violinist rocks out, makes me sway to and fro no matter where I'm at. And the last song...oh my. A few days ago I was coloring with my niece and nephew who were just beginning to fight over crayons (despite having a big box of them with plenty to go around) when the very last song came on. They both stopped, looked at the computer screen, and watched. Kael even started to clap along. The song is soothing. Take eleven minutes of your time and watch this video...you won't regret it.

"Bonnie 'Prince' Billy's Earthquake Ballad"

I heard this yesterday on NPR's All Things Considered and thought it was worth sharing. The story is compelling---Faulkner County, Arkansas has experienced several small earthquakes due to natural gas fracking. The segment is a series of interviews with community members, politicians, money minded industries, journalists, etc and is spliced with folk musician Bonnie 'Prince' Billy's song Mother Nature Kneels---a song he wrote based on these events in Arkansas. This story is part of the Song+Stories Series. Take 15 minutes today to listen to the story; then scroll down past the photo of Will Oldham to listen to the song...pure beauty.

Flatwater Music Festival

On Saturday night we headed to Hastings to check out the Flatwater Music Festival held at Prairie Loft. A few weeks back, I had spotted a flier hanging in the charming Backalley Bakery. I scribbled the dates down in my pocket notebook, and after doing a little research, we decided to check it out. I have to say, I'm glad we attended.

The festival was more than just a concert---they had an art show, local vendors (including Thunderhead Brewery!), and classes taught by musicians from the different performing groups. We saw signs for classes on clogging, hamboning, yodeling, mandolin, and banjo...how cool is that?!?

We only attended the festival on Saturday night, but enjoyed every minute of it. We caught the tail end of the bluegrass band Two Thin Dimes (amazing!), and listened to Spring Creek (another incredible bluegrass band) and classic country band, Bonnie & The Clydes. Another highlight of the night was spotting a baby raccoon on a leash. I became infatuated with this unusual pet and had to go pet it---so we took pictures with the adorable raccoon.

If you're a music lover, consider attending next year's Flatwater Music Festival in Hatings; you won't be disappointed!

"The Harrow And The Harvest"

Have I mentioned lately how much I love NPR? Well, today I love them even more because they have a preview of Gillian Welch's new album (her first since 2003) The Harrow And The Harvest scheduled to be released this week. Currently I'm sitting at The Mill in Lincoln, drinking good coffee, writing, and enjoying this new album immensely. Life couldn't be better right now.

Oh...and if you enjoy NPR as much as I do, you should consider donating to your local station as a way to say thanks for all the quality stuff they put out and to help keep the good folks in public radio going for many years.

June Hymn

I'm in love with The Decemberists. Not much else to say about them----the lyrics, the guitars, harmonica, violin, Colin Meloy's voice that pierces the soul---I just can't get enough. I broke down today and bought their most recent album, The King Is Dead (which features the talented Gillian Welch singing alto harmonies), and as a result, I have been writing all night. It's just that inspiring. I think the album will also be a fantastic running companion (though I didn't get to test that out due to the massive amounts of rain we've received today). Tonight I've been replaying June Hymn and can't wait to drive the 45 minutes to class tomorrow while listening to it. Here's the song---but don't forget to check out the lyrics below the YouTube video---true beauty. Oh...and after listening to this song, if you want more of The Decemberists, check out their Tiny Desk Concert just posted today!

June Hymn

Here's a hymn to welcome in the day
Heralding a summer's early sway
And all the bulbs all coming in,
To begin
The thrushes bleating battle with the wrens
Disrupts my reverie again

Pegging clothing on the line
Training jasmine how to vine
Up the arbor to your door,
And more
You're standing on the landing with the war
You shouldered all the night before

And once upon it
The yellow bonnets
Garland all the line
And you were waking
And day was breaking
A panoply of song
And summer comes to Springville Hill

A barony of ivy in the trees
Expanding out it's empire by degrees
And all the branches burst a' bloom
Into bloom
Heaven sent this cardinal, maroon
To decorate our living room

And once upon it
The yellow bonnets
Garland all the line
And you were waking
And day was breaking
A panoply of song
And summer comes to Springville Hill

And years from now
When this old light isn't ambling anymore
Will I bring myself to write
"I give my best to Springville Hill"

And once upon it
The yellow bonnets
Garland all the line
And you were waking
And day was breaking
A panoply of song
And summer comes to Springville Hill

November

As I cleaned my kitchen this morning, I listened to my favorites station on Pandora--a station I created with all my favorite bands: Radiohead, Wilco, Crooked Still, The Weepies, Jenny Lewis, The Shins, The Decemberists, The Wailin' Jennys, etc. Suddenly I caught the faint sound of a melancholy acoustic guitar and beautiful female harmonies. The song playing was November by Azure Ray. The band was one of my favorites while in high school (they had a deal through Saddle Creek Records out of Omaha and I thought it was so cool that a band this beautiful could have ties to Nebraska; I'm not sure if they're still with the label)--I haven't heard them in quite some time. The song is beautiful and the lyrics are poignant. I played it at my last high school choir concert---all the seniors in jazz choir got to pick a solo song and sing it at our last performance for the year---I did this one. I barely made it through the song without choking up because it meant so much to me that year.

Here's a YouTube video with the song, and I've posted the lyrics below. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

So I'm waiting for this test to end
So these lighter days can soon begin
I'll be alone but maybe more carefree
Like a kite that floats so effortlessly
I was afraid to be alone
Now I'm scared thats how I'd like to be
All these faces none the same
How can there be so many personalities
So many lifeless empty hands
So many hearts in great demand
And now my sorrow seems so far away
Until I'm taken by these bolts of pain
But I turn them off and tuck them away
'till these rainy days that make them stay
And then I'll cry so hard to these sad songs
And the words still ring, once here now gone
And they echo through my head everyday
And I dont think they'll ever go away
Just like thinking of your childhood home
But we cant go back we're on our own
Oh,
But i'm about to give this one more shot
And find it in myself
I'll find it in myself
So were speeding towards that time of year
To the day that marks that you're not here
And i think I'll want to be alone
So please understand if I dont answer the phone
I'll just sit and stare at my deep blue walls
Until I can see nothing at all
Only particles some fast some slow
All my eyes can see is all I know
Ohh..
But I'm about to give this one more shot
And find it in myself
I'll find it in myself

The Littlest Birds

I heard about The Be Good Tanyas by reading one of Don Miller's Sunday Morning Music posts and fell in love with this song---it's so catchy!

New Music: Mumford & Sons

My brother in-law, Pat (who happens to be an incredible musician), sent me an email today with the name of this band: Mumford & Sons. He thought I might like it...and it turns out...I do like them. Very much! As I've graded papers tonight, I've spent time listening to different songs of theirs---and "Awake My Soul" is my favorite. The video is nothing to write home about, but the song is beautiful. Enjoy!

NPR's Tiny Desk Concerts: The Low Anthem

Since stumbling across NPR's Tiny Desk Concerts last year, I've been hooked. I've learned of so many great bands, and the podcasts I've downloaded onto my iPod have provided me with hours of entertainment on long car rides and flights and have lulled me to sleep while in unfamiliar places.

On our way to Lincoln on Saturday I watched the Tiny Desk Concert the Low Anthem played back in January of 2010. The concert is hauntingly beautiful. The songs are comforable, soothing, and a bit sad. I think I've listened to it at least five times in the past 36 hours. It's what helped me fall asleep last night and it's what is playing now as I wind down from a long weekend.

This concert is one you really have to watch---the band isn't particularly charasmatic, but they play such diverse and unique instruments. The first song is simple with a clarinet, an upright bass, and a guitar. The second tune features an unidentifable horn instrument and sound effects formed by two cell phones, while the last includes upright bass, synth, harmonica, and some sort of cymbals.

I tried to upload the video, but after an hour of a spinning wheel, I decided to cancel it. Watching this is definitely worth all 13 minutes and 39 seconds of your time. Just a side note--if you're offended by curse words or have small children around you, you'll want to skip over the second song (though it really is moving).

Acony Bell

For the past couple of weeks I've been singing and playing (I use that term very loosely!) with a few guys; below is one song we've been practicing. Gillian Welch's incredible voice and the hopeful lyrics have made this song one of my favorites.

"Acony Bell"
By: Gillian Welch

The fairest bloom the mountain knows
Is not an iris or a wild rose
But the little flower of which I'll tell
Known as the brave Acony Bell

Just a simple flower so small and plain
With a pearly hue and a little known name
But the yellow birds sing when they see it bloom
For they know that spring is coming soon

Well it makes its home mid the rocks and the rills
Where the snows lie deep on the windy hills
And it tells the world why should I wait
This ice and snow is gonna melt away

And so I'll sing that yellow bird's song
For the troubled times will soon be gone