According to the calendar it isn't winter yet, but it sure feels like it. Not necessarily because of the weather, although it is in the low 20's this morning, but because I'm in the winter doldrums. I've been on a roll since I stopped living on Facebook, blogging almost every day. But now, I find very little to write about because I don't do much. Oh for the years when Cliff and I were both so active: I rode my horse along the Missouri River bottoms behind our place, taking pictures of my adventures. When the weather was fit, Cliff and I would go for rides on our Honda Gold Wing motorcycle. We'd ride to Branson, and sometimes down into Arkansas. Boy, I had plenty to write about then!
Now the horse is long-dead and the Gold Wing is long-gone. We only go to necessary places: Walmart, doctor appointments, dentist appointments... and who wants to blog about that kind of stuff? Maybe I should re-post my mom's life story that I serialized on this blog years ago. Everyone found that quite interesting!
Because winter affects me as it does, I've started meditating again in the mornings to clear my mind. It really is calming, to be able to dismiss any thoughts for a few minutes. A thought comes to mind, I recognize it, then let it drift away for another time, like a pretty cloud in the sky. Yesterday out of the blue a song came to mind, which I properly dismissed. But later, after meditation, I thought of it again and managed to recall the title: Star of the East.
I allowed memories inspired by that song drift over me, and I was a little girl again. My mother was always making me learn some song or other when we lived in Iowa. She must have thought I was a great singer, because I got volunteered quite a bit to sing at school functions or small talent contests. I did love to sing; my parents sang all the time around the house, or riding in the car. I'd join in with them if I knew the songs. Daddy was particularly fond of "Lay that Pistol Down", not to mention a couple of mildly off-color songs he'd launch into enthusiastically out of the blue that caused my mom to say, "Oh, Everett" as though it was awful, only she was always smiling when she reprimanded him. But I digress.
One winter Mother had me learn Star of the East so I could sing it at the Christmas program at Skinner School, which I attended for my first three or four years of learning, beginning with grade "primary" when I was five. I guess Kindergarten wasn't part of the vocabulary in rural Iowa at the time.
Judy Garland does the song superbly. What a voice she had. That's a high compliment from me, considering all I listen to is folk, country, and old hymns.