Today I retrieved my mother’s ashes from the funeral home, in a neatly sealed cardboard box with the edges taped, in a dark blue shopping bag with handles. There were two forms to sign, then a handshake from the man, and I was on my way. I brought her home and we set her next to her beloved wooden St. Francis statue. We draped a colorful cloth over the plain box. My wife will make a beautiful urn for her.
Later I took a long walk and I felt the weight of that bag in my hand the whole time.
What dreams still rest
on the dome of that opague sky?
They would slide to the deep
but for brittle threads, held each by one,
far below and running fast.
I read the other day that the human olfactory nerve (the one that delivers smells) is the only cranial nerve that skips the thalamus and runs straight to the brain’s cortex. In other words, while the other four senses run through an interpretive structure that pre-processes sensory data before we become aware of it, our sense of smell bypasses this structure and makes the information instantly available.There are no empty spaces (synapses) between the smell receptors and our consciousness.
Simply observing animals like cats and dogs makes it clear how important their sense of smell is to them. I often wonder what it’s like: Is it analogous to beautiful music? Do they experience exquisite harmonies and chords of scent that we’ll never know?
Anatomy aside, even in its weakened human form I think most of us would agree there’s something special about our sense of smell. Its ability to tickle memory fascinates us: I have only to sniff new-mown carpet grass and I’m ten years old, chasing fireflies near my childhood home.
I do remember how to post to this blog, though it’s been awhile. It’s just that I’ve been working awfully hard for these past months (practically eight hours a day, five days a week). Excuses, excuses.
My old pal Steve and I met up for his half-century birthday party and a small reunion concert in his sister’s back yard on Lake Buchanan recently.
In a short time we’ve gone from hip young rockers to 50-year-olds whose tastes tend towards the quiet and acoustic. Rather than debate the current music scene (which neither of us knows anything about) we compare notes on the best fertilizer for our tomato plants. But what a glorious day, beautiful in every way. I hadn’t seen his family in 30 years and it was like we’d never been apart.
Our feeder is in place and I’m still waiting for the first one to show up. Meanwhile this video from Kentucky will have to do. I’m a sucker for these little guys. Lookie at they tiny feets!
In other news, two fat Carolina wrens are checking out the little birdhouse in my back yard, inquiring as to tax rates and the quality of local schools. I hope they move in soon. Wrens are my favorite back yard birds, and I love to hear the male’s surprisingly loud kettle, tea-kettle, tea-kettle! The females are busy and have no time for such foolishness, but the boys have a song in their heart.
There’s a stack of music CDs in their cases on a table next to my computer. I recently ripped them all to MP3 files and the physical disks are ready to throw into a box in the closet and forget. Now that both Amazon and iTunes have abandoned the doomed concept of digital rights management and I actually own what I download, I have no interest in buying plastic things in plastic boxes. I’ve made the transition to digital downloads completely.
Amazon makes it almost too easy: As you browse their voluminous MP3 download section there’s always a tempting, candy-like “Buy with One Click” button shimmering in the corner of the window. You can preview 30 second snippets of any track, and with one tap of the mouse the download begins and a receipt lands in your email. iTunes is almost as simple, with the added convenience of availability on your iPhone. And of course the purchase is instantaneous. No fighting crowds at a record store or delayed gratification waiting for the Amazon package. We must, however, take the bad with the good: there are “what was I thinking?” moments. Think twice before you click.
Using our phones, computers, iPods, and a little box that wirelessly connects my computer to the stereo in the living room, we have instant access to all our music whenever and wherever we want. I can stream anything in my collection over the internet to wherever I happen to be sitting. And I never have to deal with the frustrating peel-off wrapping on new CDs or fumble loading a disk in a balky machine.
Cindy and me with the computer system here at wilcoxen.com
We spent Thanksgiving weekend touring Central Texas wineries and enjoying the autumn scenery in and around Fredericksburg.
Texas wines are coming into their own, and there are probably thirty vineyards within 100 miles of Austin. Some of the grapes are grown in higher elevations of Texas and bottled here, but a few local vineyards are producing quality grapes despite hostile growing conditions. As I understand it, wine grapes love warm days and very cool nights, and that season lasts about three weeks in these parts.
Even if I didn’t care for wine, I’d want to spend time at wineries. They are beautiful places to visit on a clear, crisp fall day.
On Sunday November 16th Karen completed all 26.2 miles of the San Antonio Rock and Roll Marathon! After dropping her at the shuttle to the starting line at 5 a.m. (and sleeping another two hours at the hotel–no athlete me), I spent the gorgeous day walking to various check points from Hemisfair Park way out St. Mary’s, listening to the live bands staged at intervals along the route, heading back downtown to the River Walk for lunch, and finally to the finish line at the Alamodome. I probably walked a total of 6 miles and was quite footsore–I can’t imagine walking more than four times that far in a single day, non-stop!
Karen’s been training for this event for six months, rising in the dark on Saturdays and trudging all over Austin. She finished! I’m very proud of her.
