Yesterday, in a welcoming room in Newton Massachusetts, I was finding this, among other stuff:
I love finding things, knowing that there’s always room for you, me and the stuff here.
Whatever stuff there is, it’s smart not to stuff it. There’s room for you and me to express our stuff, no matter how smelly and improper that stuff might be. Don’t forget: we can always choose to let our stuff go.
I’m now finding room for all the other stuff in yesterday’s photos.
I’m finding welcome room for my stuff here, even when I don’t know what it is (like the stuff in that last photo).
Every day, I pick one topic I think will be helpful for me and my readers. Often, I pick one photo from the day before for inspiration.
Notice that staff at cardiac rehab is telling me to pick one exercise — either the BioStep or the Stationary Bike. The first day they told me to pick one, I didn’t notice that instruction, and I did both exercises. If I had to pick one thing to say about that, I’d say that doing both exercises didn’t hurt.
With all that’s been happening lately, if I had to pick one book to read, it would probably be this one:
I couldn’t pick one photo of that book cover, so I included all three. That last photo reminds me that I’m trying to pick one seaside location for our next home. I’d like to pick one home that fits our needs for the next decade.
If you had to pick one photo that’s your favorite from this post, which would it be?
If I had to pick one song for this post, I guess it would be this one:
If you had to pick one guy who reminded you of Captain Hook, who would it be?
I can’t pick one person to thank, so thanks to all who helped me create today’s post and to you — of course! — for picking this one blog to visit, here and now.
Last night, my boyfriend Michael and I went to a jazz event called “Celebrating The Great American Songbook” at a Lexington, Massachusetts church. While we were waiting for it to begin, Michael and I found this:
Earlier in the day, I was able to find a stillness and a description of last night’s event:
When I read that, I found a stillness and an excitement about seeing the amazing Lee Konitz, in person.
Before the event, I was able to find all these (and a stillness) in Lexington, Massachusetts, with Michael:
That’s one of the organizers of “Celebrating the Great American Songbook,” breaking the stillness before the performance to tell us that Lee Konitz would not be appearing. A moment later, I found a stillness when he announced that the performers would include the amazing drummer Terri Lyne Carrington.
Here’s the memory I found, in that stillness:
Two decades ago, when I was in my first year of social work school (transitioning from a career in marketing and advertising), Berklee College of Music asked me to create a video for an event celebrating a big anniversary for the school. The narrator for that little documentary I created for Berklee was Terri Lyne Carrington.
I found a stillness last night as I listened to the terrific music and wondered if Terri Lyne had any memory of our working together, so long ago.
I found a stillness and a joy when Terri Lyne’s father, Sonny Carrington (left), was invited up from the audience to scat-sing to the last number, a Charlie Parker tune.
After the wonderful performance, I found a stillness to wait for Terri Lyne and to remind her about the voice-over she had provided — in the stillness of a Berklee College of Music recording studio — so many years ago. Terri Lyne found the stillness and grace to tell me she had some distant memories of that experience.
After I spoke with Terri Lyne, I found this stillness, in the church:
About a half- hour later, I was able to find a stillness and some Malt Hydrox ice cream:
When I got home, I found a stillness, but not the photo I have of Terri Lyne Carrington and me at that long-ago Berklee anniversary celebration.
Someday, I’ll find that photo and the videotape I created for Berklee, both still in the stillness of my home, somewhere.
Will I find that photo and video today, in the stillness of this beautiful Sunday in May? I find a stillness, here and now, to say “Time will tell.”
Here‘s something else I just found, very easily, in the stillness of YouTube:
That shows you how Terri Lyne Carrington has been bursting through stillness with her incredible drumming, from a very young age. And I can find a stillness to tell you she is still doing that, today!
A punishment or reward that is considered to be what the recipient deserved.
Wiktionary also believes we deserve to know this:
Deserts here is the plural of desert, meaning “that which one deserves.” “Desert” is now archaic and rarely used outside this phrase.
The spelling just desserts is non-standard. It is sometimes used as a pun in, for example, restaurant names.
payback, poetic justice, comeuppance
Now that you’ve read through that definition, how about the just deserts of some of my photography from yesterday?
At this point in my day yesterday, I realized that just deserts, for me, included some delicious ice cream.
Your just deserts include knowing that Boston Massachusetts USA is just desert-ly famous for offering delicious ice cream all year round (despite the harsh winters, which are NOT just deserts for its many residents).
However, I did not get my just deserts in Boston yesterday, because — no matter where I looked — delicious ice cream was just not to be found.
While searching for my just deserts — and encountering a veritable desert of ice cream — I saw all this:
… but no ice cream, which I found particularly ridiculous, because I was mostly searching on
… and wasn’t Louis Pasteur somebody who helped us all get our just deserts of ice cream?
I believe that, as human beings, our just deserts include help from others, especially when we’re trying to get our needs met. Therefore, I asked Robert …
… why I was having so much trouble getting my just deserts of ice cream, especially in an area with so many hospitals, where people justly deserved that kind of comfort. Robert told me the only place to get ice cream nearby was
I then replied, justly (I believe), that our just deserts included better ice cream than that. When Robert agreed with me, I suggested he open up an ice cream place and get his just deserts of lots of money, but Robert thinks he won’t get his just deserts that way. Here’s Robert
offering me the just desert of some ice cream he would keep frozen at Beantown Burrito just for me.
I don’t think I deserve that!
Here are more just deserts I deserved to see yesterday, after my work day was done:
While I didn’t get my just desert of ice cream after lunch yesterday, I DID get that just desert after dinner, last night.
Which of those just deserts do you think I — or you — might deserve?
What music do you think would be a just desert for this post?
This was a musical just desert for me, yesterday, as I was snapping some of the photos for this Just Deserts post: