Posted in Music

My Workday Playlist

My Writing/Cleaning Playlist–

One– Amazing Eyes- Good Old War

Two– Wrecking Ball- Ryan Adams

Three– We Don’t Know- The Strumbellas

Four– Winning Streak- Glen Hansard

Five– Better than Love- Griffin House (Live)

Six– She Lit a Fire- Lord Huron

Seven– Home– Blue October

Eight– Clementine- Sarah Jaffe

Nine– Falling Slowly- Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova (Once Upon a Time)

Ten- Little Talks ( The X Factor USA)- Alex and Sierra

Posted in Music

My Friday Fix

Today’s Writing Playlist–

ONE- Brandi Carlie- Wherever is Your Heart

I think it’s time we found a way back home
You loose so many things you love as you grow
I missed the days when I was just a kid
My fear became my shadow, I swear it did
Wherever is your heart I call home
Wherever is your heart I call home
Though your feet may take you far from me, I know
Wherever is your heart I call home

TWO- Emmylou- First Aid Kit

Oh the bitter winds are coming in
And I’m already missing the summer
Stockholm’s cold but I’ve been told
I was born to endure this kind of weather
When it’s you I find like a ghost in my mind
I am defeated and I gladly wear the crown
I’ll be your Emmylou and I’ll be your June
If you’ll be my Graham and my Johnny too
No, I’m not asking much of you
Just sing little darling, sing with me

THREE- The Head and the Heart- Let’s Be Still

You can get lost in the music for hours, honey,
You can get lost in a room.
We can play music for hours and hours
But the sun’ll still be coming up soon
The world’s just spinning
A little too fast
If things don’t slow down soon we might not last.
So just for the moment, let’s be still.

FOUR- Josh Ritter- Change of Time

I had a dream last night
I dreamt that I was swimming
And the stars up above
Directionless and drifting
Somewhere in the dark
Were the sirens and the thunder
And around me as I swam
The drifters who’d gone under

Time, love
Time, love
Time, love
It’s only a change of time

FIVE- City and Colour- Grand Optimist

I fear I’m dying of complications
Complications due to things I’ve left undone
That all my debts will be left unpaid
Feel like a cripple without a cane
I’m like a jack of all trades
Who’s a master of none
Then there’s my father
He’s always looking on the bright side
Saying things like
“Son, life just ain’t that hard”
He is the grand optimist
I am the world’s poor pessimist
You give him burdensome times
And he will escape unscarred


The carpet still holds the shape of your feet
From the last time I saw you when you walked away from me.
Oh, Annie, what’s it all been for?
If I told you I was changing, would you love me more?

I went before the morning in the middle of the night,
Left you with a letter I never thought I’d write.
Oh, Annie, it only read, “goodbye.”
I guess it needed to be said,
It just ain’t a word of mine though.

SEVEN- Ben Howard- Oats in the Water

Go your way,
I’ll take the long way ’round,
I’ll find my own way down,
As I should.
And hold your gates
As croak in the midas touch
A joke in the way that we rust,
And breathe again.

EIGHT- The Lumineers- Angela

When you left this town, with your windows down
And the wilderness inside

Let the exits pass, all the tar and glass
‘Til the road and sky align

The strangers in this town,
They raise you up just to cut you down
Oh Angela it’s a long time coming

NINE- Passenger- Heart’s on Fire

Well I don’t know how and I don’t know why
But when something’s living well you can’t say die
You feel like laughing but you start to cry
I don’t know how and I don’t know why
Well I don’t have many and I don’t have much
In fact I don’t have any but I’ve got enough
‘Cause I know those eyes and I know that touch
I don’t have many and I don’t have much

TEN- Shovels and Rope- Birmingham

Delta Mama and a Nickajack Man
Raised their Cumberland daughters in a Tennessee band
Played Springwater at Station Inn
Couldn’t play fast, couldn’t fit in
Caught a ’66 Dodge in Caroline
Got her education on her mama’s dime
She was singing in a bar called Comatose
Halfway rusted on the salty coast
Rock of Ages, cleave for me
Let me hide myself in Thee
Buried in the sand
Five hundred miles from Birmingham
Posted in Writing

Just Do It: A confident writer and the wisdom of Nike — What Inspires Your Writing?

Today, writer Tiffany S. Doran tells us the key to increased confidence is just to write, no matter what’s going on inside your head. If you’ve got some inspiring advice to share, please send it in! I…am a writer. It took me several years to be able to say that with confidence. Writing has always […]

via Just Do It: A confident writer and the wisdom of Nike — What Inspires Your Writing?

Inspirational! Made my morning  to read. I have similar thoughts as a wife and mother.

If she can do it– so can we!



Posted in Life, Music

My Son’s Band Concert

Last night I had the pleasure of listening to the high school and middle school band play. We gathered into a crowded auditorium for the Spring concert. Where hormones were raging, babies were crying, and parents watched the stage with a mix of joy, and anxious frustration.

My son is a percussionist. He plays the drums. I am not bragging, but I think he plays good.

Because he is impulsive and always has to be moving, (A.D.D.) he makes a great drummer. Though he did not win an award on our band trip last year, I thought he did an excellent job.

If we had different judges, he may have won. He said he may have missed one beat the entire time. Cut the kid a break. He was awesome! (A mother can be bias.)

His favorite thing to play is the trap set. What is a trap set you might wonder? It’s okay. I did, too. A trap set is the really big set of drums you have to sit down to play.

All the kids love to play them, and almost fight over them.

I am not a percussionist. I am clueless between them. The ones I know– cowbell and triangle. Bongos? I could rock those!


When we arrived one of the “PTA Yentas” had no idea we would be there. Her son also plays drums, and is a year below my son.

[Yenta-a woman who is a gossip or busybody.]

When I went to say hello before I could open my mouth I received–“Oh, you aren’t supposed to be here!?!”

“Huh? Well it’s nice to see you too!” I thought to myself. “And you were one of the nicer ones! Guess I was wrong!” 

She was super chatty with me last week helping with the book fair. Telling me about drum lessons, and the band trip.

Apparently, my son told her son we weren’t coming. Because of this confusion, her son would cover his parts. Thus, playing the trap set.

She hoped he would share his music. Because her son didn’t have any? That left me clueless.

One– Why wouldn’t they have enough music? Two–  Why wouldn’t he share? Three– Why cranky with me?? Geez.

In our band, they have “section leaders” telling them what to do. Who plays what. It isn’t a fair deal with who plays what part, and the band director doesn’t get involved. He lets them handle it.

The children in the band the longest have seniority. They know more. So they have less sucky parts.

They don’t cowbell as often. Triangle. Or Tambourine.


I know it’s not fair being the small guy. No one likes it. Everyone should have a turn.

It is kinda the same way in sports. The suckier players don’t get to play. They are benched. It isn’t fair either.

At least in band they get to do something, I guess?

My kid was that sucky kid playing baseball. He didn’t make the cut. He liked it, but wasn’t good at it. He knows how it feels to be the lowest on the totem pole.

So, he helps the younger kids in his section. He doesn’t mind. He helped her son when they were going on the band trip, as he considers him one of his friends.

Maybe the reason she was so nice to me last week is because she wanted to know why we didn’t go on the band trip. People do that. Pretend to be nice so they can gather information.

“We missed him! We could have used him!” She crooned.

Well, he was supposed to go on a band trip this year. He didn’t go. Why didn’t he go? Oh, because he has his head too far up his ass. I don’t know what his problem is this year.

No, I didn’t use those exact words, but I was honest. His slipping grades. Video games. Teenager stuff. Because we are dealing with real problems here. My son will overcome them, and be better for it.

So- no, he didn’t earn the trip this year. 

Instead, he helped her son learn the parts to go. When it was the weekend for the band to go on the trip, he sulked. He disrespected his father, and ended up grounded.

I didn’t tell her everything. The grounded part. Because I didn’t feel like I had to tell her everything.

I am sure they are talking anyway. I wore my dad’s jean jacket to school that morning. I am sure it was a fashion faux pas. Care, I do not.

I tried not to let her attitude stick with me during the concert. It was an excellent show! My daughter moving in her seat. I couldn’t keep still myself.

My son playing the trap set made me proud. I could tell when he messed up a couple of times playing other percussion parts by the look on his face. Even though it wasn’t apparent in the song.

He made it obvious to me putting his hand over his face, and whispering about it. Then, laughing. A mother knows her son.


It was a long show with both middle and high school band, but I prefer it when they present their concert together. Sometimes they do chorus with the band. I would rather hear the band together.

It makes more sense to me. Band with the band. Rocking out.

Young talented musicians. On the rise. Full of hope. It reminded me of my time in high school.

Not that I was a talented musician, but I was full of hope…

I felt like the walls confined me, and I couldn’t wait to bust out. Couldn’t wait to make my mark.

I hope they succeed with whatever their plans are after high school, and never give up. Life may become rough sometimes, but it’s how we learn and grow into who we are. Who we are meant to be.

My favorite songs they performed– “The Voodoo Dance” by Elliott Del Borgo with my son on the trap set, “Uma Thurman” Arranged by Michael Brown, and “Star Wars the Force Awakens” by John Williams.

By the end of the night, any weird feelings I had from earlier were gone. Her feelings are her problem. What my kid says and what we do are two separate things. We were going, and he had no say. I wanted to hear him play, and see what he did all year in band.

My husband hates going to school functions. He becomes frustrated with people, and how they act. He appears grumpy. Even if he actually isn’t. Because he is on edge.

He deals with rude people during the day. I guess he expects them, and has a low-tolerance for them. I ask him why he can’t appear professional? I have a different outlook.

I can understand how he feels. The way people act can discourage a person from attending a school function. Raise your anxiety level. Second guess being there. If you are “worthy enough” to attend.

The “yentas” have made me NOT want to help with school functions despite trying. Like whatever you do isn’t good enough. Like you don’t belong there.

I know I felt that way!

In the end, I had just as much of a reason to be there as she did. People don’t realize how much their words can sting another person, and often they don’t care. They don’t know YOU or YOUR story. They ASSume. It is sad.

I walked out of there prouder than ever of my boy.

He may be struggling a little now, but it won’t always be so. It all just needs to click, and once it does he will realize he had what it takes all along. He will quit doubting himself.

He will realize what I know to be true. That he has the intelligence and potential to be something great. He is the only one who is holding himself back.

He doesn’t realize how important he is.

How the world needs someone like him, and until he realizes it he won’t shine. He will blend in like the others. Do as they do. Walk like they walk. Speak as they do.

He will continue to bedazzle me with his drumming skills. Until one day I am watching teary-eyed as he is on stage as a senior– at the trap set. With hopes and dreams to make the world a better place because somewhere along the line it happened to click…

I am just praying it clicks sometime soon. 






Posted in Poetry

Writing- Poem

©LC 2016

Writing makes me happy,
Writing makes me sad.
Writing makes me realize–
The dreams inside me I still have.

Writing is my outlet–
the world live inside.
The place I run to frequently–
when I have no other place to hide.

I don’t know what I will write.
the words alive on my screen.
Feelings flow through my fingertips
I write what I cannot say– what others do not see.

Writing helps us discover
Who we want to be.
It’s the wonderful art– of self discovery.

If we dream big,
we can see our dreams through!
And do the wonderful things, we are meant to do–
That writing sometimes helps us uncover.



Posted in Writing

Que sera, sera — Cristian Mihai

It is said that when God glued the stars to the heavens, He already knew man would be His ultimate creation. To be created in His image. So God chose to write man’s fate in the stars. All that would happen, all the forces that would build or crush man’s dreams, all the moments […]

Read more via Que sera, sera — Cristian Mihai

So beautiful I had to share!  (Hope she doesn’t mind.)

It made me smile this morning.



Posted in Writing

We See the World Differently

Today might be a good day to reflect on your goals. Ruminate on memories. Spend time with family. Talk a walk. Or take a look around for inspiration.

Everyone deserves a break. Yes, I am talking to you! Who knows what you could write tomorrow!


No matter what you are doing today– motivated or not– I hope you have a lovely Sunday!


Posted in Blogging, Quote

Writing Today?

Made our pancakes this morning because it is Saturday! As big as the pan! Remedied waking up feeling like a bear by drinking the equivalent of a pot of coffee. I’m good here!

Ready to start moving. How about you?