mom and dad went to Emmalee's school to join her for lunch.

We also joined john for lunch the next day.

Dad, are you really taking my picture?

john checks out a dragster at the drag strip.

Jam Session

Upon reading my post "Jam Session And Tribute" Carrie contributed a photo, taken of Dan and me, surreptitiously on Friday as we played.

Jam session and tribute

After sitting quietly at the fellowship hall tables for a while, talking with the folks i knew and greeting those who seemed the least bit interested in greeting me, i stole over to the beautiful grand piano sitting neglected in the corner.

i helped myself to it . . . First playing my arrangement of 'sweet hour of prayer', then moving on to my medley of 'the love of god' and 'when i survey'. someone approached and stayed out of my line of sight . . . in my peripheral vision.

i heard him say 'he's playing my favorite song.' next thing i know he's taken a spot on my right and says 'play that first one again.' i did, and he added an embellished treble clef.

He was complimentary of my playing, he encouraged me to play more. he played for me. turns out he is the song minister for Grace Baptist Church, and i had just helped myself to his piano. i apologized, and he wouldn't take it,said graciously that i should keep playing.

Before long i was experiencing something i'd only heard about from other musicians ... a jam session. How cool is that? And it was an extra special one since it crossed any generational boundaries.

Dan played an accompaniment on the piano, his wife played bass guitar, and another gent played mandolin.

It was a blast.

He told me where he got his inspiration.... Floyd Cramer. Since I had worked at WGFA FM, which played "the older generation's" music, I was familiar with Floyd Cramer, and his style of music. I could see how it had influenced Dan. There was a trilling, a settling into a chord -- a d-chord settling into a c. I can't play it but I can recognize the style when I hear it. Dan had mastered it.

Where did I get my inspiration, Dan asked.

Moody Blues, of course, but I chose not to share that. At any rate, they didn't influence my piano playing, only my singing and lyrical composition.

I thought a while longer.

"My uncles!" I said, "Everett and Paul."

"I knew it!" said Dan, "I recognized that in your playing."

I couldn't hold a candle to Everett or Paul's piano playing, but I was still inspired, encouraged and influenced by it. The walking baseline that steps up through the notes of the chord, across multiple octaves, and then steps back down ... that was a family trait, I supposed.

I can easily conjure memories of hearing the ancient upright piano in my Gramma's house, singing and resounding with those chords. My playing is a faint reflection of that, and I'm still happy for it.

not the place i remember

After i took three pics, a burly man about thirty, sporting a tattoo on his right shoulder, and a sweaty tank top, emerged at the front door.

He was no doubt alerted to my arrival by the barking of his mean-looking rottweiler.

"Can I help you?" he said. His tone was not welcoming.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you, this used to be my gramma's house, and I was just taking a picture."

He was unsympathetic.
"How long ago was that?" he asked. His tone was like, "whatever it is, mack, it's ancient history and you should get over it."

"She died in 94," I said.

He said, "Well I seen you out here taking pictures of my house and I gotta say, I don't like that."

"I'm really sorry, it didn't mean anything by it, I just wanted a picture of the house my gramma used to live in."

He said, "Well I'm renting the place and I'm using my own hard-earned money to fix it up. I took that tree out there yesterday, and I took the old siding off. It had been vacant before I moved in..."

He started telling me his story of how hard he works and how much effort he's put in to the place. I think he might've been ashamed of how it looked, and wanted to point out that he wasn't responsible for its dilapidated appearance. I knew that; I appreciated his hard work to restore it.

I'm sure my appearance didn't put him at ease. Having just come from the funeral, wearing a necktie, I'm sure I looked more like an insurance investigator, a bank foreclosure officer than a schmoe who just came from his uncle's funeral.

My mom, too, had stopped. She saw that the occupant of the house was agitated and came to my aid.

She said, "I grew up in this house. I just came from my brother's funeral and I realized I don't have any pictures of the house I grew up in."

His countenance changed. He softened just a little.

"I'm sorry for your loss, ma'am." he said.

I repeated my apologies and we went on our way.

I hadn't really followed the golden rule, I suppose. I hadn't considered how it'd make me feel to have some stranger come up and snap photos of my house. I'd have to say I probably wouldn't have been thrilled with it if the shoe had been on the other foot.

Honestly, I hadn't expected him to be home. I didn't enter his property -- I took all my photos from the street.

Emmalee And Luke

Aunt Annie snapped a few photos using her camera phone when we all visited Luke in the hospital on Saturday.

Things we liked about our vacation

On the way home from vacation, Gramma Karen polled each of us to contribute to a list of "things we liked about our vacation." Here's what we came up with...

Climbing sand dunes
No pressure
Doing something fun together
Swimming
Getting together with Gramma D
Throwing children in the water (Daddy)
Walking to the lighthouse in South Haven
Digging a basement hole in the sand (John)
Falling off Daddy's shoulders into the water (Emmalee)
Sitting around the campfire
Blueberry picking
Staying up late
Having quiet time around the campfire
S'mores (John)
Fresca (Emmalee)
Meeting the people next door
Sunsets on the lake
Warm sun and sand
Being with my family
Eating at Clementines
The belching contest
Stopping at a restaurant/gas station called "Eat Here and Get Gas"

Hello, world.

Carrie, Emmalee and John

Drew and Carrie check on the baby.

Emmalee greets her newest cousin.

Expiration date . . . arrival date

When i came home from vacation i checked the expiration date on the milk. i noticed it was the date my sister was scheduled to be induced. i sent her this picture, asking whether there was a similar stamp on her abdomen. as it turns out, luke arrived on the day he was scheduled. but he waited until 11 pm.

Nicholas

Nick came for a visit today.

Father daughter

daddy and Emmalee spend some time together on vacation.

Blueberry Harvest

I've actually found a berry I can pick! Being red-green colorblind makes it pretty hard for me to pick red raspberries. I have no trouble seeing the blue berries hiding among the green leaves, however.

Another nice thing about blueberries is that there are no thorns. My experience picking berries as a child was, wear flannel shirts and blue jeans to catch the thorns, sweat because you're overdressed for August, and still expect to be pricked a thousand times for a single bucket of berries. Blood and sweat were required sacrifices in order to enjoy the fruit.

My dad had a sort of zen technique of moving through a bramble bush really slowly -- ostensibly without getting pricked. In retrospect, perhaps he had a high tolerance for pain, and thick skin, and didn't notice (or perhaps just didn't admit) to being pricked by thorns.