Busy

Yes... I have been.

Rundown:

I can't really remember what I did since I blogged last. (a whole WEEK ago!) Oh... yeah. I was tiling at my duplex. Well, my dad was tiling. I was mostly watching with a bit of helping. And I was cleaning. Sticky floors and dirty walls. Good times!

I was also playing life raft for my friend one day... but I didn't even know that I was until she told me later. I love when I am helpful!

Dustin built our storage room in our basement. He's back in the basement groove. HOORAY! He also wired some more lights yesterday. He's become quite the little wirer. I'm so proud.

I've been doing laundry. Always laundry.

Chore charts rule. It's what I always knew I needed but never knew how much I'd always need it... comprende?

My brother and his wife and my sister and her kids came up from Salt Lake City. It was a weekend of bliss. Especially Sunday. We sat in my parents incredibly pleasant yard the WHOLE day. For D and I, it was from noon until almost ten o'clock! ALL DAY! I had my guitar there and I played a little but mostly watched and listened to my brother play. My favorite. My dream day. Listen to Zandy play guitar and sing with him and talk guitar. Beautiful. Magical.

I also haven't been blogging much because I've been playing guitar a great deal. After my post about speaking the same language I started playing every night. It's amazing how much you can improve with a little practice.

The fourth of July we went to see our local fireworks show. You know what's weird? Our smallish Idaho city's Fireworks show is ranked 17th in the NATION! It is a freakin' AWESOME show!!! And, I just read that it lasted 31 minutes and 15,962 shells were launched. ROCK ON!!! We sit a few hundred yards beneath the launch site. Amazing. The finale is a SERIOUS adrenaline rush! I LOVE IT!!!!

The end.

You Speaka My Language?.

(I've started and erased this post about ten times now. It's not going so hot. I'll try to get through it...)

Guitars are wonderful instruments. So mobile. So versatile. So peaceful (sometimes). Especially if they're in tune. I got to mess around with a friend on the guitar recently (mostly as the singer) and it was fun... even if the guitar was out of tune. I don't know if this person or their loved ones read this blog, but if you do, know that it is no slight to the guitar player when I say that about the out-of-tuneness of said guitar. Guitars pull out of tune when you raise them a whole step. The strings don't like it. They're tighter and they want to go back to were they are comfortable, a whole step lower. Playing them outside in the cold air doesn't help keep the strings tuned up pretty either. I know that and that's ok. Are we good? Good.

(The urge to erase this post is strong right now. I'm not going to. That might be a mistake, but I shall carry on, nonetheless.)

As I sat there jamming with the guitarist, we were both supremely frustrated. Neither of us knew the same songs as the other, save a precious few. We didn't speak the same language. He knew this and this and this song and thought surely I would too. "Nope," I'd say. "I know the tune, but not the words." Then I'd ask if he knew this or this or this song... "Nope," he'd say.

Dang it!

When I'm with my family, we all know the same songs. And if we don't, it's not too long before we learn it. We mostly like the same sort of music. It made me miss my brother, who's guitar skills and repertoire are deep. It made me miss my mother, my sisters, both my brothers, and my dad, who sing all the time and can break into harmony, complete with SATB, if we're all there. We speak the same language, you know? And there's magic in the language of a family.

Parlez vous...?

(Mediocre post, at best, but I've been thinking about this little subject for a while now and I had to get it out, if crappily. My apologies.)