The only flowers remaining these days in my neighborhood are chrysanthemums and asters.
They are a hardy bunch, bless them.
We’ve had a few frosts; so most bees and butterflies are gone…
I’m already counting down the days to the winter solstice, when daylight in the Northern Hemisphere will again start to lengthen!
In recent weeks I’ve re-discovered the pleasures of tea — my current favorite being Celestial Seasonings’ Bengal Spice with some honey — and soup (today chicken, squash, carrot, potato, onion, garlic and ginger, are simmering together on the stove…)
Partly this is because I do not like the shorter days.
And partly this is because I do not like being reminded that everything dies in the end.
I do however like being reminded of how amazing mother nature is — creating a system of fully recyclable and compostable solar collectors in the form of LEAVES!
I wrote the first version of “Under My Umbrella” while camping in North Truro on Cape Cod.
Then my friend Molly Ruggles wrote a new bridge section — which is the version she and I and our friend Carole Bundy recorded (in the player above).
You can click here to read — or re-read depending upon how long you’ve been following my blog — a short post from 9/10/24 which features the earlier (pre-Molly) version of this song.
And here is a link to the Molly, Will & Carole version in case you might be willing to play/like/share it on your favorite music streaming platform.
We recorded it with me, Carole and Molly singing plus Molly playing Doug Hammer’s Schimmel grand piano in his studio north of Boston, MA.
Thank you to Doug for his excellent engineering and music production skills.
Thank you to Molly for writing a new bridge and also a bunch of lovely harmonies for all of us to sing.
Photo by Rada Ruggles
Thank you to Molly for playing piano AND for designing our graphics.
Thank you to the gifted and generous photographers at Pixabay.
And thank YOU for reading and listening to another of my blog posts!
I remain very grateful for our wonderful WordPress community.
If I needed any more reminders to “carpe diem” and seize the day, there they are!
I just learned from Wikipedia (after I went to Google and checked the correct spelling of this Latin phrase) that “carpe diem” is more accurately translated as “enjoy the day” or “pluck/harvest the day.”
I like these more accurate translations MUCH better than the traditional one.
I associate the verb “seize” with military campaigns, kidnappings and my European ancestors confiscating almost all of what is now South, Central and North America from the folks who were once living here.
“Enjoy,” “pluck,” and “harvest,” however, all feel less violent and more sustainable to me than “seize.”
And I did, in fact, pluck two allium flowers from next to our driveway — which were part of double stems from two different bulbs — to enjoy inside.
I think allium are part of the garlic/onion/leek family — so I suppose I might even be able to dig up and eat some of the bulbs if things get dire in the future…
But for now I will remain very grateful that no animals (rabbits, squirrels, rats, skunks, etc.) have dug them up for food so that I can enjoy their springtime extravagance.
I love combining the idea of a karmic wheel with the idea of us all (or many of us…) being asleep at the wheel — which is, of course, an extremely dangerous situation both for the person who is driving and also for all the other beings who are on or near the road on which this drowsy person is driving!
Because I have set up my daily life to be walkable, bikeable and/or busable (as dictated by the weather), I almost never drive a car.
Every time I am able to walk or bike from point A to point B (such as from home to Music Together classes or from home to Trader Joe’s), I am happy that I am not adding to the ever-more-precarious imbalance of greenhouse gasses in our planet’s atmosphere.
But I do ride to gigs at retirement communities in either a hybrid car or a regular gasoline-burning car — depending upon which accompanist I am working with on that day — which can leave me feeling like I am part of the problem rather than part of the solution.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
I remain aware that advertising agencies, the companies who hire them to inspire/hypnotize us into buying lots of things, and our various media who feed those messages (hundreds per day!) to us have created a completely misleading narrative about how to find happiness and meaning in our lives.
And now we are living in a period of reckoning — both politically and environmentally — for all of the untruths and PSYOPs to which we have been exposed.
Here’s a fascinating example of how maddeningly f–ked up things have become here in the 21st century.
Apple, a company which prides — and markets — itself on protecting its users’ privacy recently settled a lawsuit which alleged that it, in fact, was recording its users’ conversations and sharing them with advertisers.
What???!!!
I do not have an iPhone or iWatch, but I do own several Apple laptops (going back twenty years), a couple of iPods (also going back many years), and I continue to love Apple’s GarageBand musical composition program.
What a disappointment…
Here’s an AP article/explanation from 1/2/25 by tech writer Michael Liedtke:
“Apple has agreed to pay $95 million to settle a lawsuit accusing the privacy-minded company of deploying its virtual assistant Siri to eavesdrop on people using its iPhone and other trendy devices.
The alleged recordings occurred even when people didn’t seek to activate the virtual assistant with the trigger words, ‘Hey, Siri.’ Some of the recorded conversations were then shared with advertisers in an attempt to sell their products to consumers more likely to be interested in the goods and services, the lawsuit asserted.
The allegations about a snoopy Siri contradicted Apple’s long-running commitment to protect the privacy of its customers — a crusade that CEO Tim Cook has often framed as a fight to preserve ‘a fundamental human right.’
The proposed settlement filed in an Oakland, California federal court would resolve a 5-year-old lawsuit revolving around allegations that Apple surreptitiously activated Siri to record conversations through iPhones and other devices equipped with the virtual assistant for more than a decade.
Apple isn’t acknowledging any wrongdoing in the settlement, which still must be approved by U.S. District Judge Jeffrey White. Lawyers in the case have proposed scheduling a Feb. 14 court hearing in Oakland to review the terms.”
I just checked online and learned from BloombergLaw.com that on 2/20/25, “A federal judge gave his preliminary approval to a $95 million settlement that would end a five-year class action over alleged privacy violations by Apple Inc.‘s Siri virtual assistant.”
It truly makes one wonder how one can trust any company whatsoever…
And it confirms what my brother-in-law Andrew had started noticing many summers ago when we were camping on Cape Cod — that conversations we were having within earshot of his iPhone were triggering uncannily specific ads (directly related to what we had been discussing) on his Facebook feed.
Another deep breath in.
And deep breath out.
Graphic design by Stephen C. Fischer
G-d only knows what our individual — and shared — karmic reckonings will be in the hours, days, weeks, months and years ahead…
Thank you to Doug Hammer for playing so elegantly and engineering/mixing so patiently on this song.
For over twenty five years I camped there every summer with my sweetheart and his extended family.
And then COVID — and a new baby — entered our lives, and we all decided to rent a house together at the opposite end of the state (in Pittsfield) with a big, fenced-in backyard instead.
The important thing is to make it meaningful: a meaningful friend — or a meaningful day.”
Another deep breath in.
And deep breath out.
This song was inspired by a couple who rented a campsite at the other end of the little valley at North Of Highland campground where we had a perennial campsite.
I don’t remember exactly how we reached out and introduced ourselves, but I am pretty sure I showed them the wild blueberry bushes which were bearing fruit all around our little valley.
And they invited us over for an informal cocktail hour one evening, which was very pleasant.
And then we discovered that the guy was a swimmer who, like me, loved to do laps along the ocean shoreline — although this was becoming more and more risky because the increasingly abundant population of seals in North Truro had been attracting more and more great white sharks…
So we hit it off with these two friendly people and became well-acquainted over the course of a few days.
Then, to my surprise (because I had assumed incorrectly that they had a week-long rental) they packed up their tent and — with warm goodbyes — drove away.
I have been very aware of — and sensitive to — the realities of love and loss ever since I was young.
In fact, I have been told that my parents used to sing “Good Night Irene” to me when I was a very small child just to see me well up with tears.
Deep sigh…
I have written in previous blog posts about the challenges of working professionally as a child and teenager. One of an actor’s most important skills is developing a sense of connectedness — first with the receptionist who checked you in at each audition, then with the casting agents, with the clients, and with any actors who were part of the initial audition and subsequent callbacks.
And if I got a job — whether for an hour doing a voiceover, for a day on the set of a TV commercial, for a couple of weeks filming a TV pilot, for a few months doing a movie, or for a year doing a musical — I needed to nurture ongoing, positive working relationships with my fellow cast and crew members.
I needed to show up on time.
I needed to know my lines.
I needed not to complain about anything.
I needed to behave as if I was a small, manipulable adult.
When a job was done, I remember how awkward and sad I felt as all of the camaraderie, friendship, affection and even love which had developed among members of the crew and cast would evaporate and disappear.
That was very confusing.
Was any of the camaraderie, friendship, affection and love I had experienced real?
Or was everyone just acting?
Another deep breath in.
And deep breath out.
On a vaguely related note, our planet’s relentlessly-marketed fossil fuels — along with the cars, trains, busses, ocean liners, planes, motorcycles, etc. which need them to run — have allowed most of us human beings to become much more mobile and much less rooted in one neighborhood, one town, one city, one state, one country.
The postal service and the internet have also given us extraordinary options for meeting and becoming acquainted with other humans.
How do we make sense of — and peace with — all of the beings who come and go in our lives?
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
I tried to make a little bit of sense out of the ebb and flow of relationships by strumming a ukulele in my tent and then jotting lyric and chord ideas in one of my songs-in-process notebooks.
Eventually “The Crazy Touch And Go Of Our Lives” emerged.
I performed it by myself — playing a ukulele — at some open mics.
Then a few years ago my friend Molly Ruggles (who sings, plays piano and writes songs herself) created a lovely harmony part for her and our friend Carole Bundy to sing.
The three of us performed it at a bunch of porchfests and then recorded it with Molly playing piano last summer at Doug Hammer’s studio north of Boston.
Another deep breath in.
And deep breath out.
As I write this blog post, I am reminded of the Dalai Lama’s words about making each day — and, each friend — meaningful.
That is certainly what has happened with me and Carole and Molly.
We first collaborated when I was invited to sing during a service at the UU church in Medford where they were both members and where Molly was also the music director.
And this musical collaboration has deepened and widened over many years — and many delicious dinners — to become meaningful friendships.
We sing and harmonize and rehearse and perform and bear witness to the twists and turns of each other’s lives.
Deep breath of gratitude in.
Deep breath of gratitude out.
I will end this post with my customary thank yous plus a bunch of beautiful images from Pixabay that somehow reminded me of this song.
Thank you to all of the folks who have kept North of Highland campground going for many decades. I miss being there each summer!!!
Thank you to the couple who camped for a few days across the little valley from us at North of Highland campground.
Thank you to the Dalai Lama for his wisdom.
Thank you to my sweetheart and his — now our — family for letting me sit in my tent at the campground all day long, working on new songs.
Thank you to my dear ukuleles, to my “tent of creativity,” and to the various pencils, pens, notebooks, rhyming dictionaries, and laptops which help me to write songs.
Thank you to Molly and Carole for our years of interactions.
Thank you to the UU church in Medford for bringing me and Carole and Molly together as a musical unit and as friends.
Thank you to Doug Hammer for engineering and then mixing/mastering our recordings with us.
Thank you to the grasses and bushes and seaweeds and crabs and sea birds and seals and sharks and fish who make the Head Of The Meadow beach — a short and beautiful walk from the North Of Highland campground — so interesting to visit.
Thank you to the ocean and the sun and the moon and the tides which sweep the beach clean twice a day.
Thank you to everyone who has been listening to my songs via Pandora, YouTube, Spotify, Apple Music, and any/all of the other streaming platforms.
Each stream, each like, and each addition to a playlist is noted by that streaming service’s algorithms — and encourages it to share the song with other listeners.
Since then — I am happy to note — more and more research has been done on the extraordinary community of beings who live in our guts AND the fascinating ways that they contribute to our mental and physical health.
All of this research underscores how profoundly our human lives are woven together with the lives of other beings here on planet earth — bacteria, viruses, plants (who provide us with oxygen to breathe, food to eat, and a bunch of medicinal options), fungi, and our fellow animals.
As you probably are well aware, medical science is discovering that it is indeed healthy to eat
A) High-fiber foods — such as whole grains, garlic, onions, leeks, and beans which are considered to be PREBIOTIC-rich foods,
B) Yogurt and kefir (without lots of added sugar) which are considered to be PROBIOTIC-rich sources of beneficial bacteria which can help to diversify and/or replenish our gut biome, and
C) Fermented foods — such as kimchi, kombucha, miso and sauerkraut — which also have lots of live, active, beneficial bacterial cultures.
There are TRILLIONS of bacteria in our guts, and the proportions of more-beneficial bacteria to less-beneficial bacteria are influenced by what we choose to eat.
As I say in my song, “the world within is calling for attention.”
What sort of attention do YOU give to your gut microbiome?
Even though I have not shared a new post for two months, my stats tell me that lots of people continue to visit my blog (maybe because I have over 100 past blog posts to choose from…?)
Whatever the reason, THANK YOU to everyone who keeps finding and reading my blog!
I have loved this song by Dar Williams ever since I first heard it a couple of decades ago.
Dar Williams
Ms. Williams weaves together several fundamental human themes — the value of role models, the heartbreakingly inevitable connection between love and loss, the challenge of female/male power dynamics, and the significance of being trusted — within the framework of a story told by a child about their beloved babysitter.
It is masterful songwriting.
I released it two weeks ago to coincide with the start of the school year here in Massachusetts.
I have several friends whose almost-grownup children are entering college — and they have shared with me that they are feeling simultaneously grateful/proud that their kids are becoming adults AND heart-broken/shocked that their kids are old enough to leave the family nest.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
I do not remember having many babysitters when I was a child.
There was one, however — maybe a friend my mother met at a painting class? — who taught me and my siblings how to cook eggplant moussaka from scratch.
We happily prepared that meal again and again during our child and teen years following her recipe.
It was delicious!
The theme of trust and trustworthiness in Dar’s wonderful song very much reminds me of how respected I felt as a young adult when I was hired to help take care of three small children (one each from three families) who had all dropped out of the same pre-school together.
I myself had recently dropped out of college, and it was a very powerful — and healing — experience to be entrusted with these three little human beings.
Parents have to tap into a deep well of trust to let someone else take care of their children.
Without a lot of interviewing and no background checks, I and two other twenty-somethings were hired to have fun adventures with these three children in shifts during the day while their parents — who were architects, college professors and a child psychiatrist — worked.
We were given the keys to one of their cars (a Saab), three car seats, and a little spending money in case we needed to stop at a grocery store or bakery for treats during the day.
The parents also gave us a book on child development by Penelope Leach from which I learned that I could follow the children’s lead and let them to explore their curiosity/interests — which included (among other things) ants and dogs and pistachios and flowers.
One of my favorite memories is driving with them to a wonderful nature area — the Punkatasset Preserve in Concord, MA — and wandering very slowly up and down the trails so that we could pause whenever something caught the children’s attention.
Their interest in flowers led me to serve them food — such as apple slices, carrot sticks, chunks of cheese — in flower patterns on their plates.
How are they able to capture and transform energy — radiating from a nearby star! — into something delicious we can eat here on planet earth?
What a miraculous blessing…
Another deep breath in.
And deep breath out.
Last week I listened to a interview on YouTube in which an artist manager explained that Spotify’s algorithms seem to reward folks who release music on a monthly basis — and that if one is able to do this for 18-24 months, an exponential increase in streams sometimes kicks in…
This is what he has discerned from the streaming patterns of music released in recent years by a dozen independent musicians he is working with…
I have seen a significant (for me) increase in streams for the six songs which I have released (every three weeks) since the middle of April this year.
My recording of “The Babysitter’s Here,” for example, has gotten more streams (598) on Spotify in two weeks than many of the songs I first released have gotten in two years.
So I am going to stick with my plan to release a song every 3-4 weeks for the next 19 months and see if an exponential increase kicks in…
And any song you “like” or “heart” or add to a playlist will improve the algorithmic activity of my music there.
You are also welcome to visit my website — where you can learn more about my musical life (including upcoming gigs) here on planet earth if you are curious.
Thank you to Dar Williams for writing such a delightful song.
Thank you to the families who trusted me many years ago to take care of their precious children.
Thank you to Doug Hammer for his sublime piano playing AND his patient engineering expertise.
Thank you to the generous photographers and graphic designers at Pixabay — and to my friend Carolyn for the lovely photo she took of.a rainbow from her living room window.
Thank you to Stephen C. Fischer for transforming photos from earlier parts of my life into graphic designs for my current song releases.
Thank you to my neighbors for sharing their beautiful vegetables with me.
And most of all, thank YOU for reading — and listening to — another one of my blog posts!
While all sorts of extremely important events continue to unfold around the world on a daily basis, life — blessedly — goes on here in East Arlington, MA.
Last fall I discovered — and began happily patronizing — an organic farm within biking distance of my home.
It sits on the edge of an old reservoir which currently serves as a nature preserve.
The reservoir straddles the border of my town and the next town to the west — Lexington, where our Revolutionary War kicked off two hundred and forty eight years ago with a battle against the British.
I have known about this reservoir — which is no longer used for drinking water — for the past thirty years.
Yet I have rarely visited it because I live on the east side of town, and the reservoir is located on west side of town.
Biking there takes 25 minutes, and it’s mostly up hill — following a converted rail-to-trail bike path.
However, this past fall I resumed leading Music Together classes indoors at a karate studio which is located five blocks from the reservoir.
And not long after we had begun our fall term, someone (we still don’t know who) drove into one of the karate studio’s front walls.
This meant that we had to find alternative locations for our classes while repairs were being made.
A couple of my Music Together families offered to let us hold class in their backyards — and one of those families lives a block away from the reservoir.
So one morning after class in their backyard was done, I decided to explore the reservoir on my bike.
Photo courtesy of Lexington Community Farm website
It turns out there is a lovely path all the way around it — and when I reached the far side of the reservoir, I found myself gazing onto a field full of vegetables!
And then I saw a sign welcoming people to walk through the farm and — on Fridays and Saturdays — buy fresh vegetables at their farmstand.
Because I had been part of a summer/fall farmshare of fresh produce which was driven to Arlington each week from an organic farm in New Hampshire, I did not visit their farmstand right away.
But when my farmshare ended in November, I decided to check it out.
What a thrill to enter a room full of very locally grown — and vibrantly colored — organic carrots, potatoes, lettuces, sweet potatoes, scallions, leeks, collard greens, swiss chard, kale, turnips, beets.. and the list went on and on and on!
I bought a bunch of leeks, a bunch of kale and a bunch of collard greens.
And I rode home very happily on the bike path with all of them erupting in different shades of green out of a shopping bag in the front basket of my bike.
We are now experiencing a stretch of wintery weather in Arlington after a relatively mild December, January and February (during which I have been able to continue riding my bike!)
The first crocus and snowdrops appeared in our front yard two weeks ago, but they are now buried under an icy crust of snow.
This week we are experiencing snow and sleet and rain, but I trust that spring will return before too long — with more croci and snowdrops and mini-Siberian irises and grape hyacinths poking their way out of the soil and opening their flowers to the sun.
I also trust that activity will resume in the fields and greenhouses of Lexington Community Farm.
My longing for spring is what has inspired me to share a recording of “The Garden Song” by Dave Mallett which Carole Bundy, Molly Ruggles and I included on our first eight-song CD last summer.
As you probably already know, you can play it by clicking at the very beginning of this blog post.
You can also listen to it on various streaming platforms by clicking here.
Thank you to all of the people who make the Lexington Community Farm a reality — inch by inch and row by row!
Thank you to Carole Bundy and Molly Ruggles for learning this song with me.
And thank you to Mother Nature for bringing everything back to life here in the northern hemisphere of planet earth!
You are always welcome to visit my website — where you can find many songs and learn more about my musical life here on planet earth if you are curious.
You can find me and Carole and Molly singing on various streaming platforms by clicking here.
You can also find me singing — with Doug Hammer playing his Schimmel grand piano — on Spotify, Pandora, Apple Music, YouTube and other streaming platforms.
Any song you “like” or “heart” or add to a playlist will improve the algorithmic activity of our music there!
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
And most of all, thank YOU for reading another one of my blog posts!
Thank you to everyone who continues to read my blog posts — old and new!
Today is a rainy and windy day in the greater Boston area.
Now that it’s December, part of me wishes that it were snow falling insead of rain.
The sentimental part of me, that is.
The practical part of me — who would be helping to shovel it from our sidewalk, porches, and driveway — is OK with rain.
I was very grateful to read recently that Massachusetts has mostly recovered from last summer’s drought due to the rain which has fallen in recent months.
But as most of us know, the rest of the world is not as fortunate — with water levels falling to unprecedented levels in the western and southwestern parts of the USA, for example.
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
I wrote a blog post in January 2020 which featured an older version of today’s song.
You can click here to check it out if you are curious. I went wild with lots of water imagery from Pixabay…
However, in keeping with my current resolve to share shorter blog posts, I will include fewer photos today.
I’ve been getting acupuncture on a regular basis for 30+ years.
My practitioners have been part of the five-element school of acupuncture, which is an extremely wise and beautiful branch of acupuncture.
Each patient, for example, is viewed as a garden to be tended to by the practitioner in order that all five elements/phases of our body/mind/spirit — water, wood, fire, earth, and metal —remain harmonious and in balance.
The water element corresponds — among many other things — with the season of winter, with the feeling of fear (and/or the lack of fear), with the taste of salt, with the sound of groaning, with slowing down/resting/sleeping, with meditating, and with the experience of not-knowing.
You can click here for a linkto an acupuncturist’s webpage which describes more about the water element if you are curious.
Most of us are a blend of all five elements/phases.
I, for example, was diagnosed by J. R. Worsley as a Wood type — with Earth and Water within (ie: Mud as I like jokingly to say).
He recommended, among other things, that I do more swimming — and in the years since my diagnostic visit with him I have spent many hours in pools, lakes, ponds and oceans.
Recently, however, I have become less excited about swimming in the crowded chlorinated pool — which also hosts swimming classes for children of all ages — nearest my home.
So nowadays I swim in lakes and ponds (and occasionally the ocean) during the warmer months of the year — although a friend and I did have share a brisk, final swim in Walden Pond this past October.
It is very easy for many of us to take fundamental blessings such as daily access to clean water for granted.
I continue to be a fan of counting one’s blessings as an antidote to the onslaught of news and commercial messages with which most of us are bombarded every day via social media, television, radio, ads on the sides of busses, etc.
May we all be mindful of ways that we can conserve and honor and re-use the water flowing through our faucets, our showers, our baths, our washing machines, our dishwashers, our veins, our arteries, our lymphatic vessels, our skin, our tear ducts, our plants, our forests, our systems of agriculture, etc.
I will end with a few more delightful images from Pixabay of different forms of water.
Thank you to all of the photographers who share their work there.
Thank you to Doug Hammer for contributing his artistry to my song as a pianist and as an engineer.
You are always welcome to visit my website — where you can find many songs and learn more about my musical life here on planet earth if you are curious.
Today we are experiencing unseasonably cool and windy weather in the Greater Boston area.
I sit on my back porch (wearing a winter coat for warmth) and listen to the cardinals, robins and mockingbirds who are all taking turns singing from the tops of nearby trees, roofs, and utility poles…
I also savor the marigolds, basil, kale, cilantro, and sunflowers sprouting in pots around me.
Sprouting seeds and growing plants fill my heart with hope.
It is such a weird and wonderful thing that a tiny speck of a seed can transform into a seedling!
To me it feels very similar to the mysterious miracle of how a caterpillar can transform into a butterfly…
Deep breath in.
Deep breath out.
I am deeply honored to learn that last Friday Michelle at Boomer Eco Crusader published an entire blog post featuring my song “We’re Running A Big Experiment.”
I have been reading her blog for a couple of years.
I always find inspiration about ways to improve my life right now — as well as ways to improve the future lives of our children, grandchildren, and all the other beings who will inherit the fossil-fuel-driven messes that we are leaving as our legacy here on planet earth.
If you are not already following her blog, I heartily recommend you check it out by clicking here.
THANK YOU to Michelle and to everyone else who has been listening to — and sharing! — this song after it was officially distributed to various digital platforms earlier this month.
amusicalifeonplanetearth 