(no subject)

I can't believe I have never looked up anything about Stan Rogers. It occurred to me at work today while I was listening to "From Fresh Water." I did not discover his music until 10 years after he died, and after looking at this site I found that he was much younger than I realized. He was only 33 when he died in 1983. What a voice - it gives me goose pimples and makes me weak in the knees. Unless you don't care for folk music, click his name there, let the little Flash thingie load, and see if that gorgeous baritone doesn't affect you. Makes me wish I were Canadian so I could claim him too.

It used to be a fantasy of mine that someone would sing to me (or with me) in voice like that. I love John dearly ( wow, I said it); unfortunately he can't carry a tune in a bucket. But we danced to "Forty-five Years" at our wedding, he in his medieval kilt and me in my bodice with russet laces and long green skirt, and I sang along with it for him. I hope it was a good omen for us.

"And I want to see your smilin' face forty-five years from now."

(no subject)

I can't believe I have never looked up anything about Stan Rogers. It occurred to me at work today while I was listening to "From Fresh Water." I did not discover his music until 10 years after he died, and after looking at this site I found that he was much younger than I realized. He was only 33 when he died in 1983. What a voice - it gives me goose pimples and makes me weak in the knees. Unless you don't care for folk music, click his name there, let the little Flash thingie load, and see if that gorgeous baritone doesn't affect you. Makes me wish I were Canadian so I could claim him too.

It used to be a fantasy of mine that someone would sing to me (or with me) in voice like that. I love John dearly ( wow, I said it); unfortunately he can't carry a tune in a bucket. But we danced to "Forty-five Years" at our wedding, he in his medieval kilt and me in my bodice with russet laces and long green skirt, and I sang along with it for him. I hope it was a good omen for us.

"And I want to see your smilin' face forty-five years from now."

(no subject)

John just walked in and threw at Kit Kat bar at me. This one is in a silver wrapper, with "Limited Edition" splattered all over it. I guess that because it's made of white chocolate. I like white chocolate, but a limited editon of anything edible just seems redundant to me. It doesn't last very long as it is.

But thank you.

(no subject)

John just walked in and threw at Kit Kat bar at me. This one is in a silver wrapper, with "Limited Edition" splattered all over it. I guess that because it's made of white chocolate. I like white chocolate, but a limited editon of anything edible just seems redundant to me. It doesn't last very long as it is.

But thank you.

Sleepng in piles...

The last few nights, Angus and Gareth have been waking up in the wee hours and wanting to crawl into bed with us. With Angus, he woke up having to go to the bathroom, wanted Daddy to help him instead of me, and just had a total meltdown. I could not even figure out what was upsetting him, he was so incoherent. Getting him to snuggle with us was about the only way we could see to calm him down. Gareth on the other hand, often just sneaks in - we wake up and he's there.

John is very territorial about his bed and after three days of this proclaimed it off limits. This was after Gareth, who's only three but sleeps like a linebacker, pretty much shoved him out of bed.

I can hardly blame them. I remember doing the same thing. And they may have some dim memory of when they were babies, sleeping with Mom until they were about 6 months old. So comforting - l loved snuggling with them when they were tiny. Avalon has only recently started sleeping on her own, and my arms miss her.

But we all reach a certain age, and are commanded to sleep by ourselves, those few hours in our daily lives when we are really the most alone. And we continue to sleep alone as we get older, even in group situations. We separate ourselves by separate rooms and twin beds, sleeping bags and bunkbeds in dormitories. Until we find that one person we are willing to share our sleeping space with.

And it's like coming home. This is familiar. I am not talking about sleeping with someone as a euphemism for sex. Possibly not even snuggling. Just sleeping in the company of another, who can roll over and with a touch or a hug, tell you "it was only a dream." Sometimes shared body heat is enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

Oh, I know it's not nearly this simple. There are a lot of issues that go along with it, including hormones, snoring and the heat of summer . But very few other primates are solitary - and we really aren't either. I wonder if humans as a species would be a little less aggressive and warlike, if we hadn't started separating ourselves from each other and abandoned sleeping in piles like other social animals.

Just a weird thought. Maybe it was triggered by some stories I've been reading.

Sleepng in piles...

The last few nights, Angus and Gareth have been waking up in the wee hours and wanting to crawl into bed with us. With Angus, he woke up having to go to the bathroom, wanted Daddy to help him instead of me, and just had a total meltdown. I could not even figure out what was upsetting him, he was so incoherent. Getting him to snuggle with us was about the only way we could see to calm him down. Gareth on the other hand, often just sneaks in - we wake up and he's there.

John is very territorial about his bed and after three days of this proclaimed it off limits. This was after Gareth, who's only three but sleeps like a linebacker, pretty much shoved him out of bed.

I can hardly blame them. I remember doing the same thing. And they may have some dim memory of when they were babies, sleeping with Mom until they were about 6 months old. So comforting - l loved snuggling with them when they were tiny. Avalon has only recently started sleeping on her own, and my arms miss her.

But we all reach a certain age, and are commanded to sleep by ourselves, those few hours in our daily lives when we are really the most alone. And we continue to sleep alone as we get older, even in group situations. We separate ourselves by separate rooms and twin beds, sleeping bags and bunkbeds in dormitories. Until we find that one person we are willing to share our sleeping space with.

And it's like coming home. This is familiar. I am not talking about sleeping with someone as a euphemism for sex. Possibly not even snuggling. Just sleeping in the company of another, who can roll over and with a touch or a hug, tell you "it was only a dream." Sometimes shared body heat is enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

Oh, I know it's not nearly this simple. There are a lot of issues that go along with it, including hormones, snoring and the heat of summer . But very few other primates are solitary - and we really aren't either. I wonder if humans as a species would be a little less aggressive and warlike, if we hadn't started separating ourselves from each other and abandoned sleeping in piles like other social animals.

Just a weird thought. Maybe it was triggered by some stories I've been reading.