Just plain life · Trying new things

“My (nonexistent) Bucket List”

I love Ferdinand.
I love Ferdinand.

Am I a complete bore if I don’t have a Bucket List?  I usually like to keep “current” and be  “relevant” (it’s very relevant to be current, you know) but one bandwagon I haven’t jumped on is the formation of my so-called “Bucket List.”  I just can’t think of anything I want to do, or place I’d want to visit so badly  that I’d consider it “bucket-list-able.”  Perhaps that does make me a bore.  God knows I’m not the adventure-seeking sort.  Honestly, I had to talk myself into going to Target today; I was perfectly content to stay home.  Rock-climbing, sky-diving, mountain-conquering . . . . (but what happens if you need to go to the bathroom?  Huh?  Does anyone think about that?  I do, people, I do!)  I get dizzy just  watching people doing those things on TV!  (OK, sometimes I simply get dizzy walking from one room to another.)  No, I was not cut out to be adventurous.  (Though I did dye my hair really, really blonde once. Crazy stuff.)

And I just don’t have a great desire to “see the world,” though I have nothing against the world, generally speaking.  In fact, I really like to watch Rick Steves on TV,  jaunting all over the place and visiting those “out-of-the-way” places all the ordinary tourists would never in a million years  know about!  Oh Rick, how do you know so much about where to get the best cepelinai in Lithuania??  What could Rick Steves possibly have on HIS bucket list??  Travel to outer space??  Or has he done that already?  How much do you wanna bet he knows where to get the best moonrocks?  C’mon, you know he does!

When my kids were little, one of their favorite books was “The Story of Ferdinand” by Munro Leaf.  (Come to think of it, it might have just been one of my favorites, actually.)  While all the other young bulls ran around and butted their heads together (see, this does NOT sound fun to me) Ferdinand liked to “sit just quietly and smell the flowers.”  I’m with you, Ferdinand.  Make some space for me under that cork tree!

Maybe it’s because I know I’m living a really, really, really blessed life already.  I have a wonderful, loving, hard-working husband.  I have three grown kids that are my favorite people on the planet.  I have two granddaughters that bring me so much joy and another grandbaby on the way!  I live in a very comfortable house and really want for nothing.  I’m healthy.  And friends!  I’ve got the most amazing friends coming out of my ears!  (Figuratively speaking, of course)  To cap that all off, I know that God loves me (despite my boring ways) and I’ll get to see Him face to face some day when this wonderful life is over! (Let me point out that I would like to hang out on earth for as long as possible, but I know when it’s my time to go, I’ve got a pretty cool place to go to.)

A verse that hit me square in the face many years ago was this one:  “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.” (Philippians 4:11)  Did I pray that one a little too much over the years?  Shouldn’t I want to go to the grocery store when there’s nothing for dinner in the house?  Nah – I’ll go tomorrow.

I have been “not content with my circumstances” plenty of times (ungrateful punk that I can be – thanks, Christi, for the word “punk”).  It’s not a good place to be.  The weather there is always cloudy and everyone that lives there has a perpetual stomach ache.  Everybody wants what someone else has and by everybody, I mean “me.”  I’d rather not live there again.  I do go there from time to time, still, but prefer to see it in my rear view mirror than through the windshield.

So please don’t forget to send me a postcard when you’re off on your adventures! I really do love hearing about them!  And seeing the pictures!  I’ll just be here, sitting quietly and smelling the flowers.  Me & Ferdy.

Trying new things

Hakuna Matata.


So I was wondering, do you have any tattoos??  If you’re a person about my age (I’m 53, wellllll closer to 54, actually) chances are you don’t.  And chances are pretty good you might have grown up kids that do.  I just recently discovered my 24-year-old son is the proud wearer of two.  That’s a whole other story, but let’s stick to this one for now.

Every now and then I just get a wild hair and think I want to get a tattoo. This coming from a pretty non-rebellious-type person who thinks using SPF 15 rather than 30 is totally wild and reckless!  I’ve flirted with the idea of getting another piercing in an earlobe (bringing the total piercings to 3) but that just seems so, I don’t know, so 1990s now.

I’ve thought that if I were to take this action, I’d get some sort of music symbol, being that I’m a musician and all.  (Doesn’t that sound impressive?  I’m actually just a piano teacher so it’s not like I’ve met Bon Jovi or anything, but I just like to say, “I’m a musician.”)  A cute little eighth note appropriately placed might be just the thing.  Well, that is, until I saw this . . .


Isn't this the best?
Isn’t this the best?



I was in Coco’s http://www.coconorth.com , a great restaurant/bakery in my hometown, ordering some lunch.  When the sweet young lady who took my order turned around, I spied with my little eye this amazing tattoo on the back of her neck.  She moved quickly, so I didn’t see it clearly, but I thought I saw a treble clef!  (We “musicians” love treble clefs.)   When she handed me my order I had to inquire – was that indeed a treble clef?  Actually, no!  Get this (and I just love this!):  it’s the Swahili symbol for Hakuna Matata!  What?!  For some reason, I just LOVE that!  You know what Timon & Pumbaa say . . . it means “no worries, for the rest of your days!”  Who doesn’t love the thought of that?

I think Hakuna Matata might be the Swahili counterpart to a couple of great Bible verses I can think of – how about this:  “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” (Philippians 4:6)  Or especially this one from Matthew 6:27 – “Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Really I love that whole chunk starting from verse 25 till the end of the chapter.)  Now THAT would be a big ol’ tattoo.   But that symbol?  That pretty much sums it up into a very pretty, treble-clef-looking package!  But where on this body would I put it? That’s the next question . . .

The back of the neck is really cool-looking, but I want to SEE it myself.  I’m the one that needs reminding not to worry.  I like the top-o’-the-foot tattoos, but I’m fairly tall and have poor eyesight, so I’m not going to see it way down there.  I want to be able to see it regulary, but then again, don’t forget I’m a piano teacher (ahem . . . “musician”), I work with kids and don’t want them or their parents thinking I’m too wild and crazy (do NOT tell them about the SPF15!)  What’s a gal to do?  Where would YOU put a great-looking Swahili symbol?  (Plus, I don’t want, as time marches on, my Hakuna Matata to turn into something entirely different, given the aging process and gravity).

When I was a young music therapist working in Minneapolis, I helped to lead a choir of senior citizens (more stories to tell some day). I once was worried about an upcoming concert.  (I know, right?  What could possibly be worrisome about a concert involving sweet elderly folks.  Well, worrying is a family trait I’ve inherited and have been trying to expunge from my life for some time now.)  When I expressed my concern to one dear old woman named Myrtle, she calmly looked at me and said, “Honey, worrying doesn’t do you any good.  It won’t add a single minute to your life.”  She was quoting Matthew 6 here, but I didn’t know that at the time.  (Hmm, I wonder how Myrtle would feel about me getting a Hakuna Matata tattoo?)

Well, check back with me in a bit and see if I’ve done anything about this wonderful whim.  I’ll try not to worry too much about it!