A Month of Fundays: Day 29 – Go Someplace in Your Town/City You’ve Never Been Before

This was a funday activity originally suggested by my friend Matt. I instantly thought it was a good idea, but since I’ve lived in the same town for most of my life I also thought it might not work for me.

I’ve been everywhere in Bloomington, MN, haven’t I?
We moved to Bloomington at the end of my first grade year of elementary school; I’m guessing May of 1982. I’ve lived in five different locations in Bloomington since then – but always the same city. To be fair, this town isn’t small. It fights with Duluth on a regular basis for bragging rights at the third largest city in MN (after Minneapolis and St. Paul – the Twin Cities) and usually wins (says the girl from Bloomington). It also has a large land area and encompasses MN landmarks like The Mall of America and the Minneapolis / St Paul International Airport (MSP) as well as the only IKEA in the state – all locations I’ve been to more times than I can count.

Maybe I haven’t been to EVERY place; there are a lot of places to go here. I made a list and came up with a number of local businesses I haven’t been too because they are new and quickly planned to go to one of these. I think this might be cheating. It’s not really surprising that I haven’t been to Poor Richard’s Commonhouse or Cowboy Jack’s because they’ve both only been open a year or less. And then I realized I have been to both – at least in the buildings, they were just known as Major’s (Ah, crappy hour: Lots of memories there.) and Steak & Ale then.

I thought about some older locations and pondered the living in the same place for nearly thirty years dilemma one more time. I think I need to move. But then Stacy and Amy and their families are both back in Bloomington now and I can walk to the part-time job-hobby and I like it – Chris and I are quite happy here. Maybe I’ll stay for a little longer then...

In the end I did cheat, but only a little. I went to two places in Bloomington. One I’ve never been to before and the other I’ve been too, but not for at least 25 years.

Where did we go today?

Scoops Ice Cream & More
This place is almost as much a Bloomington icon as the Mall of America and it’s only been open since 1994 – the year I graduated from high school. Granted the Mall of America has only been open since 1992, but who’s counting. What in the world did we do in Bloomington before MOA and Scoops? Wow, I would hate to think that these two institutions put us on the map…that probably didn’t happen until IKEA in 2004. Regardless, ice cream was the chosen venue today.

Scoops is small but homey: A sort of ma & pop location with a candy store type display on one wall and two counters of ice cream from local creameries to choose from. They have a wall (Well, I counted three walls.) of signed photos from celebrities – local and international stars of sports, acting, music and politics all made out to ‘Scoops’ with lots of love and ice cream. I’m guessing about 10 people standing fit into the store front, but there are four tables nonetheless: two more table out in the hallway and two more Adirondack-type chairs outside and across the boulevard with ‘Scoops’ written on them. Chris and I both had waffle cones – I had “Pirates Booty” and Chris had “Chocolate Turtle Cheesecake” – and yes, the ice cream was scrumptious. IT’S ICE CREAM!

What astounded me was how similar the entire experience was to the going-for-ice-cream-funday in Duluth. That Malt Shop – the one in Duluth, a good two hour drive from Scoops – which is possibly 2 miles from my house, give or take a bit. I’ve been to that Malt Shop in Duluth at least 12 times in my life. Why do we constantly look outside of our own home-sphere to find these experiences? Maybe we don’t, maybe it’s just me. I just said I’ve lived in the same place for almost 30 years – but if you add up all of the time I spend traveling, including studying and living in London, you could easily shave two years off of that total – maybe more. Maybe all of you have been everywhere in your towns; in which case this is a ridiculous blog post and you should stop reading it. This IS a ridiculous blog post because I’m wondering these big, huge things after going to get ice cream at a place down the street I’ve never been to before – but there it is.

Also, I really don’t think I’m alone in this. We all get trapped in our paths and routines. I’m all about breaking the routine frequently. You see and experience so much more when you look up every once in a while. I’m nearing the end of this month of fundays which has been a self discovery journey as much as a writing/blogging journey and a having fun journey. In the end I had to come away with something, didn’t I? Otherwise why are you all reading this?

Normandale College’s Japanese Garden

With ice cream in hand Chris and I drove over to Normandale Community College and walked around the Japanese Garden. Yes, of course I’ve been to the Japanese Garden. It’s like 6 blocks from my house. I mean that would be crazy not to go in a place I drive, walk, bike or bus past at least twice everyday. Actually, I haven’t been since like 1984 and Chris – who went to college at Normandale when he moved to this country because he was still too young to go anywhere else – hasn’t been since he graduated in 1995 (The year we started living together). Oh, those Japanese Gardens.

The garden was dedicated in 1976 – so no newness there. My opinion of the garden: Lovely, but much smaller than it seemed when I was six-years-old. There’s huge koi and Japanese maple and mugo pine – some of my favorite things. Seriously, what is wrong with me? Do I have blinders on! A garden and an ice cream shop – neither is a stretch for my lifestyle or anything. I spend many a day writing in, walking around or listening to an outdoor concert in gardens. I could – and would – eat ice cream everyday if it had the same calorie intake as tea. I mean yummy things and sunshiny nature places are all I’ve been blogging about this entire month; and yet here are two places literally in my backyard, both going unnoticed by me.

It does sound like my day was more aggravating than fun, but I promise it was a good day with new experiences in it. Try it. No, really. I would like other people to have as much as fun as I did today while also being annoyed with themselves and their own short sidedness. Please…

Picture: Where did you go today? A picture of yourself at the place you’ve never been before.

Song: R.E.M’s “Stand” and Mary Chapin Carpenter’s (because, really when is there not an MCC song for one of my blog posts) “I am a Town”.

Tomorrow: Attend a State Fair, County Fair or Renaissance Festival

A Month of Fundays: Day 28 – Wander around a Museum

I realize some people think they are boring, but I’ve always loved a good museum. Art, history, science, tin, Barbie, MoMA…whatever – museums are high up on my list of fun things. Sometimes randomness is fun and it’s amazing what people collect.

Whilst traveling, Chris and I have made a habit of going to museums. I’m not exactly sure when this started – maybe we always have; he is an artist after all. I think my favorite trip was Chicago a couple years ago when we ended up at 5 different museums and spent a good two hours in The Thorne Miniature Room exhibit. Who knew how fun tiny things could be?

Today we went to the Science Museum of Minnesota to see the King Tut exhibit before it ends. The Science Museum was a favorite school field trip when I was little. There’s lots of hands-on for children and I’ve always enjoyed their collection of old-school medical/quackery devices. I think the Science Museum is where I discovered how gullible people can be. And they have musical stairs – musical stairs are cool!

I honestly don’t know if I liked the Tut exhibit or not. I’m guessing most of the antiquities are replicas because they weren’t in cases and I didn’t see a lot of temperature and humidity gauges; but nothing said it was a replica in print anywhere in the plague copy. Well, except for Tutankhamen – he was a replica. On the other hand, the cartouches were cool and the size and amount of stuff was impressive. Not over-stimulating, I’ll-never-be-able-to-see-it-all like the Egyptian collection at The British Museum, which I think was the last museum I was at this summer. Today was still enjoyable and fun.

My favorite part of museum wandering is the scope of imagination just sitting there in a palpable state waiting to be discovered. I started bringing a notebook to write down story ideas because I’m always inspired by something on exhibit. Today’s story idea came from a video about finding King Tut’s sarcophagus. Apparently a local, unnamed water boy helping out at the dig was the first person to come across the steps leading down and into the burial site. I think a mid-grade or picture book version from the boy’s perspective would be good. Naming the Water Boy: See how I already have a title and everything – by ‘everything’ I mean all but the actual writing, plot or characterization.

Museums: Educational, inspirational but mostly FUN.

Picture: The exhibit you are looking at or museum you decided to go to. What’s your favorite item on display?

Song: Barnaked Ladies’ “If I had a Million Dollars” if only for the art comments and a real green dress is cruel. Also Indigo Girls’ “Galileo”, a man who seems very museum-y to me...OK, this song also reminds me of all the artists, musicians and scientists who try to enlighten out human existence through their genius. And those things all end up in museums.

Tomorrow: Go Someplace in Your Town/City You’ve Never Been Before

A Month of Fundays: Day 10 – Tending, Planting or Sitting in a Garden

Day 2 of my lackadaisical self. Well, I had to work the part-time job-hobby this morning, but after that I was lazy-to-the-extreme again. Today’s fun activity is the garden. Whether you tend the garden (said in my best dystopian propagandist voice), plant something, or just sit in one if you’re as sluggish as I am, gardens are a sort of peaceful get away right at your backdoor.

I like all types of gardens from formal to secret, rock, water or vegetable. Working in the garden is rewarding. Picking out what to plant and then watching your plants grow is satisfying.

I do have a smallish vegetable garden – this year it boasts tomatoes, peppers, basil and berries (strawberry, raspberry and blueberry – although that blueberry bush has yet, in its four years of existence, to yield any fruit. It seems happy and healthy, so I keep hoping). My veggie garden is just a hodge-podge of containers on the deck, so I don’t think you need a lot of space to garden. Try it!

Today I went to Centennial Lakes and read in the garden (I didn’t finish This Rough Magic yesterday due to the four hour nap in the middle of the afternoon. Seriously, I’m worse than a cat when I have a cold). Reading in the garden is one of my favorite activities, topped only by writing in one. Honestly, I use the garden as my office space in the spring, summer and fall and often think I have the best life ever when I do. It could be all of the vitamin D I get when I read in the garden, but I think it goes beyond that. Nature is awesome! Until a bird poops on you or the mosquitoes attack. Alas, the price I pay for my daily dose of fun each day.

There: Gardens are therapeutic. You can’t help being serene and a little bit regal whilst hanging out in one. Can we take a moment to contemplate just how many times I use the word ‘whilst’ in my blog? Damn British husband rubbing off on me with his good and proper English nonsense. I should explain: Chris doesn’t read the blog, but I keep telling him I mention him in each one. Now, if he ever does look, he can easily find himself – he’ll be tagged and everything. Chris also frequently tells me I only married him because he’s British – this is emphatically not true, but I like to perpetuate the myth. He does have many other fine qualities as seen in his picture painting & paper folding skills of two blog posts ago. Back to the garden – at some point in my illustrious work history, I spent a few years as a florist. Maybe this is where I get my love of gardens. They sure do smell good…and look pretty…and calm the nerves. I’m reaching here for actual blog-worthy material; I’m pretty sure I’ve scrapped the bottom of the barrel. Maybe today is one of those days I just let a bunch of pictures I took do the talking for me:

I’ve lost you all now with my cold medicine and sun induced ramblings haven’t I? In other fun day news, the book I’m reading is almost done, it’s getting suspenseful – even if it is the umpteenth time I’ve read it. I’m off to finish it now; no more writing tonight. Have a fun day in which ever garden you choose to be in – we need a little peace and serenity in our lives right now, no matter where we are on this big wide globe.

Picture: A garden. What you planted, what you will plant, your garden’s yield. Your favorite garden, (I abstained from putting in another picture of the Sunken Gardens at Kensington Palace. Aren’t you proud of me? It remains my favorite though. Best. Writing. Place. Ever.) or just one you visited today.

Song: Bach’s “Cello Suite No.1 Prelude in G Minor” because it was playing at Centennial Lakes today and made me happy and peaceful. Possibly part of the serenity is the piped in music sweeping through and filling up the garden’s quiet corners today.

Tomorrow: Practice Yoga, Tai Chi, Pilates or Meditation

A Month of Fundays: Day 9 – Reread a Favorite Book

I’m so lazy today. I’ve spent most of the day in bed trying to shake the cold with rest and tea. And also reread a favorite book, that’s why we’re here after all. By 1:00 I’d managed to make it into the living room, shower and put on some actual clothes – it’s yoga/lounge attire, so comfy-I’m-running-errands-at-best clothes, but still I was slightly more presentable. The weather is cooperating with me; no humidity to speak of and the temperature dropped to about 65 or 70 degrees. This means I can snuggle in the big comfy chair with a blanket, tea, chicken noodle soup and my book. The comfy chair is REALLY big to accommodate all of my cold accoutrements.

If you are playing along, any sort of reading is good. I know people who will never reread a book or re-watch a movie. I’m not those people, if I like something I keep going back to it. If you don’t read at all, then by all means just take some time out of your day to enjoy a new book. It took me a little bit of time to come up with a book to reread. I thought about childhood favorites like Anne of Green Gables or more recent favorites like The Hunger Games, but in the end I went with Mary Stewart’s This Rough Magic. If you don’t know who Mary Stewart is, she’s a mystery/romance/fiction writer who was quite popular in the 1960s, 70s and 80s in the UK. You may know her (Mara, I mean you) as the Arthurian historical/fantasy writer because she also wrote the critically acclaimed Merlin Chronicles – 5 books (originally a trilogy) published between 1970 and 1995.

My mother first introduced me to Mary Stewart – she did so shortly after I started reading on my own. And here’s where re-reading comes in handy. When I was little and reading – and Mary Stewart’s descriptions made me want to read, and to travel – I enjoyed the general plot of books like This Rough Magic. There’s a dolphin and sailing, a love story and murder and it’s also magical because it’s wrapped up in a neat little package that is Corfu, Greece. On each subsequent reread I pick up something new, my age and life events help me see new things and focus on different parts.

What I’ve Learned As A Reader:
- Mary Stewart gave me the travel bug. Sure, I’d probably have figured it out on my own the first time I went anywhere – but her descriptions made me want to go see places in the first place.

- Mary Stewart gave me my first Shakespearian stirrings. Again, I’d probably have fallen in love with the Bard once we started reading and seeing his plays in school, but this book in particular with the quote from The Tempest at the beginning of each chapter and the themes from the play running throughout.

- Mary Stewart is the reason I first went to Edinburgh, Scotland. It is one of my very favorite cities in the world, it is strikingly gorgeous, the people are amazing, and I first stopped in the city in 1998 because I knew Mary Stewart was living there. That 1998 trip was when I discovered Harry Potter, so as a literary city I find it superior to most.

What I’ve Learned As A Writer:
- Setting things in a different location. I spent a few nights in the Isle of Skye on my first trip to Scotland. Once I knew I was going, I remembered Mary Stewart had written a novel set on the island. I was living in London at the time, and I wanted to read the book so I spent a week searching used bookstores until I found an early printing. While on Skye I walked around and looked at my surroundings, looking for settings from the book. I found them; I also found a boathouse set on the coast below a cliff with a tree lined path. I have no doubt that boathouse inspired Mary Stewart to write the scene in the book I’m rereading today; a scene set in Greece. It’s a really simple thing, but the thought had never crossed my mind. Using things you’ve seen in a new location, remembering that one thing and placing it here, in this other place. I sat there looking at that boathouse for 15 minutes participating in my own setting master class.

- Mary Stewart taught me to write about what I want to read. If I don’t see it out there it is my job to create it. It’s OK to mix genres and create your own category. The publishing world may not be a fan at first, but if you write well it will get published. When she was first published, Mary Stewart was considered a romance writer – but there’s not a lot of romance in her books. I think she categorized herself more as a mystery/suspense writer, but at the time mystery and suspense didn’t leave a lot of room for romantic entanglements. She wrote a cross-breed because those are the stories she wanted to tell and created a new genre by doing so.

- Good dialogue can be read out loud. Actually, good dialogue should be read out loud. The dialogue in This Rough Magic reads like a play at times. It is a story about two London theatre actors and interwoven with both Shakespeare’s The Tempest and Much Ado About Nothing. Mary Stewart taught me to stop reaching for my dialogue – to let the dialogue fit the plot.

Books can become good friends, rereading them is a tangible, joyful experience!

While getting the song clip for the day, I tried typing in "Mary Stewart" to see what YouTube would have. They had this AMAZING interview from the early 1990s. It made me cry - that could be the cold medicine, too. It's still AMAZING and everything I think about being a writer myself (Not at all surprising, really). And also 25 minutes long, so be warned if you click on it.

Picture: A picture of where you would choose to read for an entire day if you could. You can also just tell me the name of the book and author. What makes a book re-readable anyway? Maybe I should have put that above in the body of this post…except I have no good answer. You tell me in the comments.

Song: Well the book I’m reading was written in 1964 and the 60s make me think of The Beatles, so I’m going with “Paperback Writer” because that seems fitting today! Also, when we were little, Stacy always used to think it was “Burn the Bag Brighter” which is funnier and endlessly amusing. This is why we don’t let her forget it!

Tomorrow: The Garden – Tending, Planting or Sitting in One

A Month of Fundays: Day 6 – Going for a Walk

Hello, blog people! Today is a walking kind of day. It’s absolutely gorgeous out – a little too humid still, but I’m not going to complain about the sunshine. If you read this blog at all, you already know I live close enough to the part-time job-hobby to walk most days. You may not know that my normal means of transportation are walking, biking & public transit (MN has a crap bus system but a wonderful lightrail – LRT – system they are slowly, but surely expanding). I’m also the passenger in many a motor vehicle; I don’t drive at all, at all. This is 1-part laziness, 1-part lack of spacial relations and 1-part pure phobia from a horrific car accident in my early, wee years. Possibly, if it were just one of these three things I’d have my license, but the trifecta of bad driving karma makes me think my driving status is never really likely to change. Regardless, walking isn’t something new I’m trying out this month, it’s what I do. Yes, I guess another part of the not driving thing stems from my lack of interest in it. I like to walk, I enjoy bicycling, and I think public transportation causes fewer headaches for me and less stress on our planet.

For a fun day activity, there’s no better time than summertime strolling. Walking, like many things I’m writing about this month, is an excellent group activity and also a brilliant solitary journey. You can walk fast or slow and get different things out of each pace. You can walk to music, quiet, laughter or good conversation. You can have a definite destination or just meander where your feet take you. You can walk from point A to point B or walk in a circle, starting and stopping at the same location. I live in the “Land of 10,000 Lakes” and each one has a walking trail around it. When I go for a walk with Chris, we tend to walk around one of these – or stroll through a garden. We live near here, lucky us! Walking with others is a good way to digest your day, calm down or discuss something important. If this is the walk you choose to do today, enjoy it!

The walking I did today was routine – it’s the walk I take every day to the part-time job-hobby. I really have no idea how long the walk is. I’ve done it in 12 minutes and I’ve done it in 40 minutes. I think whatever music I happen to be listening too sets my walking pace and tempo. The solitary walk is something else entirely. Yes, it’s also calming or refreshing, but the walk always helps me find myself, think through difficult things and really, just be. Time stops while I’m walking – no wonder my walking times are so sporadic. My walk takes me through old neighborhoods and right in between my old junior high and high school. Ah, the nostalgia of living and working where you grew up. I cross a couple of decently busy roads and then weave through a number of residential streets. I pass other walkers and bikers each day; people I know by sight, but not by name or acquaintance. There’s a blind woman who lives down the street, a lady who dog sits for her grown up son everyday, a man who lost his son on 9/11 aboard flight 93, a school principal who buys flowers for his wife once a week, and a curmudgeon who is constantly taking picture of his torn up lawn on the corner (he sits in town hall meetings on a regular basis to beg for a bike lane on 102nd St to avoid further lawn damage). I know all of these things about the people on my walk, but I don’t know any of their names! It’s an odd sort of feeling of belonging and sometimes I wonder what they know about me. There’s that girl who doesn’t drive, walking home from her part-time job-hobby. She has another bottle of Diet Dr.Pepper; she must drink a gallon of that every day…

If you choose the daily walk for your day of fun, look around and enjoy it. Try to find something you’ve never seen before; attempt to walk down the other side of the street. Sometimes I think we forget we’re having fun when it’s shrouded in the routine. I went for walks before, but I started my ritual of daily walking when I moved to London. My mom – and her sage advice – told me once, "You can’t belong to a place until you go out and explore it." So that’s what I did my first day in London.

I had this plan to video that walk during my recent trip to the UK, but alas, the best laid plans. I didn’t get to go on the walk – there just wasn’t enough time and we weren’t nearby when free time presented itself. Also, I don’t think I’ve ever learned to use a video recorder, flip camera or anything like that. So instead of literally walking you down memory lane, I will leave you with those vlogbrothers AGAIN – specifically John leaving NYC.


I can’t even describe in words how accurate that is – or how emotional this video leaves me. Enjoy your walk today – wherever it takes you!

What, I’m a writer and a reader. I’m going to leave you without some Robert Frost? I don’t think so!

The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,


And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
--Robert Frost

Picture: Something you see along the walk. If it’s a walk you frequently take, try for something new or different. When I really look around during my daily amble, I’m always surprised at what I find and what I never even noticed before. And extra points if you get to walk in the rain, which is a more-than-fun activity!

Song: Norah Jones “Sunrise” is about my walking speed today.

Tomorrow: Movie in the Park

Month of Fundays: Day 3 – Cook or Bake Something YUMMY

At this point you think I’m the most boring person alive, don’t you? Or, I’m working under some dystopian-type propaganda where I tell you work is fun and you believe me and go along doing it; helping society come back from some sort of fall-out, life-as-we-know-it-ending type thing. Seriously, when I get to the point where I tell you mowing the lawn and doing laundry is the fun activity for the day, you should stop reading these. Neither of those things is remotely fun. Ever. No matter what I might say.

But cooking and baking…All types of fun to be had there. No? Maybe you’re just not doing it right?! I have the tiniest kitchen known to man – it’s a galley style, miniscule thing. I get cranky and angry when other people enter the kitchen while I’m creating (read: destroying the cleanliness) yummy masterpieces. This really is my fun activity for the day. And here’s how I roll:

Cooking – Today’s recipe is a potato & leek soup concoction. The recipe comes from my friend Catherine. Catherine is very green and a little hippy-like in a Wiccan sort of way. In other words: perfectly lovely. She and her husband – and their two kids – grow a lot of their own vegetables. They have a green house as well as earth boxes all along their deck. I’m not sure what any of that has to do with me cooking, but usually I come home from their house with an arm full of fresh veg! The local Farmer’s Market is also a good place to get things like leeks and potatoes at a low, low price. Growing your own vegetables and buying local produce are also fun activities…no, really! That’s not just my propaganda speaking.

Potato & Leek Soup
4 to 5 baking potatoes – baked and cubed
1 to 2 bunches of leeks (base this on taste preference or the size of the leeks themselves) – cleaned and sliced
1 to 2 tbsp of sauté liquid (like bacon grease, butter or olive oil)
14 oz of chicken stock (or vegetable stock if you want a vegetarian recipe)
1 can of evaporated milk (a vegetarian recipe where the veg-eaters in question also eat dairy. Boy, are you screwed if you’re lactose intolerant.)
Optional (read: don’t do this step, herbivores): Some pre-cooked meat – such as ham, bacon, or chicken/turkey. I use bacon (hence the bacon grease for the sauté liquid).

NOTE: for every 14 oz of stock, use 1 can of evaporated milk. There’s some (read: oh, my god – so much) starch in this soup, so I tend to always use double the liquid to get the final consistency I’m looking for.

BEFORE PREP:
-Bake the potatoes (I always forget this part and then get angry with myself, because the recipe clearly says “baked and cubed”. Tack on an hour or so if you’ve forgotten to bake the potatoes before you get to the soup making part).

-Clean and slice the leeks. If you’ve never worked with these, they are very dirty and have lots of layers; I promise they are easy to work with. Here’s a video on how to clean leeks.
-Cook the optional meat – only if you are using it though. It’s just a time-waster otherwise.

SOUP MAKING:
Saute leeks until well sweated and slightly browned. I use a small stock pot. Add stock and evaporated milk. Mix well. Add baked and cubed potatoes and optional meat. Mix again. Cook on medium low heat. Stir as needed. Once the potatoes are thoroughly cooked (Yes, I know. They’ve already been baked, so they are cooked thoroughly. Just use your best judgment. It doesn’t take long.) and soup has reached the desired consistency; serve with your favorite carb vehicle (sourdough, biscuits, brown n’ serve rolls, baguette).

PS – once everything has stewed/heated up for a while, take a potato masher to it for smaller pieces and really, just to release more starch. This makes the soup easier to eat; it has an amazing texture your taste buds will love.

…Yes, soup in the summer. I don’t know why, but I always find myself craving a hearty cup of soup or stew when it’s hot out…

Baking – I thought about making cupcakes, but I just did that and scones sound much more appetizing today. Perfect paired with tea or coffee, this is not the recipe I’d use for added fresh fruit. For that, I use another recipe that looks and acts more like the big, triangular scones you find in most American coffee shops. The one below is just a nice, sturdy scone that holds up to clotted cream, jam, marmalade, lemon curd or even, just butter if eaten fresh from the oven.

Basic Tea Scones
Don’t let the name fool you; these are not basic at all. The recipe has been tweaked and tried numerous times. Most scone recipes are similar with the best ones having only a few basic ingredients. Here is the result of many a scone baking. To be fair it is about 75% Harrods scone recipe. It’s not like I went into Harrods and asked them for their recipe – so most likely it came out of a cook book or off that new-fangled internets-thingy. It tastes like the scones I’ve had at Harrods though.

3 cups (15 oz / 470 g) all-purpose flour
2 tbsp baking powder
6 tbsp (3 oz / 90 g) cold unsalted butter (seriously, DO NOT take this out and get it to room temperature) – cut into small pieces
3/4 cup (6 oz / 180 g) granulated sugar
1 cup (8 fl oz / 250 ml) milk

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C). In a medium bowl, sift the flour and baking powder together, and then stir until well blended. At this point you should brew a nice of cup of tea. Using your fingers, rub the butter in until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Drink your cuppa tea and then remember you are making something to eat whilst drinking tea. Fists of fury. Then stir the sugar into the butter / flour / baking powder mixture and mix well. Quickly stir in the milk to make a firm dough. Yes, it is too sticky and there’s lots of flour not incorporated into the mixture yet. At this point you should swear because you’ve forgotten to flour a work surface, prepare the baking pan and/or remove the biscuit cutter and rolling pin from the drawer you keep them in. Un-goo your hands with lots of soap and water and do all of the forgotten things. Have another cup of tea to calm your nerves.

Turn the dough out onto a floured work surface and knead until smooth. You can make a well and add all of those crumbly bits that didn’t adhere to the big ball of dough at this point. Roll out (I hate to say use a rolling pin, because you can almost pat this out with your hands. If you have a small rolling pin left over from an Easy Bake Oven or something; that would be your best bet.) to a 1 cm thickness (I eye-ball this, so 1 cm is probably more like 3 cm for me) and cut into 2 inch rounds with a pastry/biscuit cutter.

Place the scones 1 inch apart on a parchment-lined baking sheet (Yes, the parchment paper is mocking you. It will roll up onto itself and be cut at an awkward angle no matter what you do. You can win! You will show it who’s boss!), brush with milk and dust with super fine (castor) sugar. Bake in the oven for 14 – 16 minutes, or until lightly golden, remove from oven and let them cool on a wire rack. I use the matching tiny spatula from my Easy Bake Oven set to remove the scones from the pan. Or your hands work too. Makes 12 – 16 scones.

These scones are really versatile. If you must add golden raisins, regular raisins, currants or other dried fruit, go ahead. I also make these in the fall with a can of Libby’s pumpkin added for a rustic flavor.

To eat: Brew another cup of tea and then slice open – putting clotted cream then jam on each half. Or, if you are my husband, slather with butter and lemon curd and smash both halves together, you Crazy British Man.

The point is to have fun baking, cooking. Enjoy your time in the kitchen, put in your earphones and dance around the kitchen while cooking. Creating something yummy to eat is one of those endorphin-infused moments you can be proud of. If you have kids, cook and bake with them. These are the moments I remember from my childhood. Kitchen time with mom was always a good day in my book.

Picture: Look! I took pictures today. You should take a picture of whatever it is you’re making.

Song: Not surprisingly, I tend to listen to music while I’m in the kitchen. Today was a Mary Chapin Carpenter day (also not surprising). I’m going with “Passionate Kisses”.

Tomorrow: Relaxation. Spa Day!

The Remarkable Patriotism of Coca-Cola

This whole Month of Fundays thing is more difficult then I originally thought. I think I need to be more organized, with more ideas. So today’s post is what I want A Month of Fundays to be like, but I’m not actually doing that month of blogging yet. I’m taking a Month of Fundays out for a test drive because I can’t get my mind around the logistics of it all.

For now, I’m just going to write about today – 4th of July (because I won’t be posting this until the 5th). It’s the Fourth of July! That’s fun in and of itself. Go, America!

Back to the grind after vacation, I woke up bright and early this holiday morning because I had to be at the part-time job hobby by 7:00. I’m married to a British man and I wasn’t sure how long the part-time job hobby would keep me, so although we had a few backyard BBQ invitations, nothing was set in stone. In the end, Chris and I went to the MN Landscape Arboretum in the afternoon. For those of you in MN: the arboretum IS open even with the State Government Shutdown. For those of you not in MN: the government is shutdown because the lovely politicians can not come to an agreement about the state of our state debt/budget and how to get money to pay for it. I have EXTREMELY STRONG OPINIONS about this, but as I’m not blogging about my political stance right now, I won’t bore you with those details. However, I would like to point out that although the general populace in MN doesn’t much seem to care whether we are shut down or not; I really think we all need to wake up and have extremely strong opinions about failing governments in general…and not just stomp our feet because the State Lottery is not playable during a shutdown (Seriously random guy in the line at the gas station doing the foot stomping: What the hell is wrong with you?!)

MN Landscape Arboretum, that’s where I was. It’s open, very nature-like, and pretty much just awesome…It may seem a little odd that my fun day had me thinking about America, since I was just lamenting my return to the country, my state government is shut down, and I have EXTREMELY STRONG OPINIONS about the cons of socialism and my country in general. But here’s the thing: It’s my country! And I get to have all of these feelings because my country – for the most part – is FREE. Men and women died – and are still dying – to make it so. There’s a lot wrong, but there’s a lot right too. And I can write about it, rant about it, and tell you what I really think – without fear of imprisonment or death. So yes, celebrating America is a fun day in my book.

Celebrating it with a British man may seem odd; but he chose this country over his own even before he chose me. One of my favorite Fourth of July memories happened just two years ago – the first year Chris and I were married and his mum came for a visit. We had a big family picnic/firework watching at Normandale Lake’s annual Bloomington Summer Fete. The irony of sitting on blankets outside in the middle of a MN summer, celebrating my country while completely surrounded by British citizens (Chris, his brother and his mother) was not lost on me. But I was mostly impressed by their awe and excitement, and also those familiar Fourth of July things: The smell of corn on the cob and tang of bug spray, sunscreen and sweat in the air; the fireflies dancing in the reeds around the lake – outshone by the red, white and blue light-up jewelry around children’s necks, wrists and ankles. The sound of fireworks exploding into the thick, humid night sky followed; the sky growing increasingly thicker by the smoke screen and burnt powdery, sulfur fire smell. It’s really hard to beat the fun-ness of The Fourth. Go, America! I say again.

Did I mention the MN Landscape Arboretum? Chris and I headed out to that giant garden in Chanhassen. We stopped for cash and water at the shops, and I picked up a coke, too. It was hot today, like Amazon HOT. For those of you who think of MN as snow and cold, July & August are mostly filled with 90 degree days and lots of sticky humidity. I don’t drink a lot of sugar soda, but when it’s really hot and I know I’ll be spending most of the day walking, I grab a Coca-Cola. It’s not frequent at all, but as I was watching two idiots drag-race down 494, sipping my coke and musing about the flowers I’d be seeing shortly; it dawned on me that my last Coca-Cola happened just a week ago on a very hot day in London. That day found me being quite touristy at the Tower of London and The British Museum. I grabbed the coke after viewing an over-whelming and over-stimulating plethora of Egyptian mummies and Ancient Greek architecture (British Museum, you are amazing but you have too much – give some antiquities back already – but not The Rosetta Stone, you should always keep that so I can view it frequently.) but before hitting up the massive gift shop. I remember thinking, this coke doesn’t taste right. I don’t mean how coke always tastes wrong, like the sugar forms strings and then those strings grow on your teeth like fur and you feel like you should shave your teeth after consumption. No, it still tasted like that, but more like it tasted off. I’d forgotten these thoughts until my highway trek on this Independence Day. I realize now the coke didn’t taste off at all, I was just drinking it in the wrong location: Coca-Cola tastes like America. Forget your apple pie, watermelon and hot dogs – Coca-Cola is America in a bottle! Other things taste like London ¬– things like a Snakebite and a Pimms Cup. Lilt tastes like the UK and Stella too, but Coca-Cola is decidedly America.

The arboretum was beautiful, peaceful and summery. Although there were plenty of families around enjoying their Fourth, I still felt calm, relaxed and secluded. Chris took pictures, I smelled flowers and we chatted about nothing but everything; a perfect way to celebrate our Independence Day. Tonight, while I’m writing this we are watching the neighbors grill in their front garden in a fire pit; we’ll join them for s’mores later – and fireworks of course. I’ll turn on the TV and watch some of the Boston Pops celebration and probably not for the last time wonder what it would be like to get on a plane at dusk in New York and fly to Los Angeles low enough to see the fireworks sprout up all over the nation. I bet that’s amazing!

I’m not sure what my Month of Funday question/thing is today? Possibly: How do you celebrate? Or: Think of and drink a beverage that embodies your town, state, region, country. Watch some fireworks. Eat outside. BBQ. Walk through a garden. Apparently I had an entire month of fundays in just this one day. Feel free to answer/comment with any of those things. Or, more ideas for The Month of Fundays project!

Oh, and I'm thinking about adding a related song for every Month of Fundays post. Simon & Garfunkel's America seems appropriate for today.

Haste Ye Back

It’s entirely my own fault; realizing that fact doesn’t make it any better though. When you love travel and you have no money, you inevitably get super excited when you get to go on a trip…pretty much anywhere. When you travel to an unknown place, everything is so new and intriguing; it’s overwhelming and tiring, but usually rather lovely. In such cases, six or seven days are very much enough time. In such cases home is a welcome reprieve and a panacea to the travel bug – for a while at least. But, when you travel to a well known place you once lived in; a place your soul sings for, your eyes yearn for, your emotional and physical person craves…well then – 14, 15, even 20 days are never enough. Returning home feels a bit like being stuck in a box, sealed and posted to a place you don’t want to go to.

So it’s my own fault for taking most of June to wander through the UK and Ireland – stopping at all of my favorite places including Dublin, Giant’s Causeway, Belfast, Edinburgh, Skye, The Highlands, and of course, my London. Really, what was I thinking? June in London. With Wimbledon and the year before the Olympics – It’s like being on the highest high of your life and then crashing straight to your lowest low. Yes, apparently I’m equating traveling to meth – maybe it’s not quite that bad. The realities of my daily life are just encroaching in on me right now. Probably because I’m typing this while watching Wimbledon – when just a couple of days ago I was there; or the seven loads of laundry, paid bills & rent, grocery shopping and general house cleaning I’ve done today. Whichever, I’m in a melancholy mood that’s been hard to shake.

Don’t get me wrong, it was brilliant and I’d do it all again in a heartbeat; over and over and then over again. I was just hoping for a little respite from the travel bug. It really is a problem when you are a broke and unpublished writer. The month of June, as it goes out and is replaced by a sticky hot Minnesota July, was as perfectly golden as I thought it might be months ago when I realized I would get to go on said trip. A trip I took with some of my closest friends and favorite people; and also a number of blog followers I did not know before (Hi, Anna, Michelle and Brooke!). And those blog followers are amazing and exactly the sort of people I want following my blog. I journaled every day and therefore improved my capacity for writing well. There is something about a travel journal full of notes, ideas and thoughts; it’s very organic in its execution. I made an effort not to engage too much in the outside world: The cell phone was left at home, the net book as well. I grabbed pen, pencil, journal and half a manuscript – set mostly in Dublin and London – I needed some fact checking on.

And I really am happy to spend July – October in MN. Really, there’s a reason I live here. I’m not sure if there’s any place better during these months. Look, I’ve talked myself around. Yay, I’m home…OK, fine, I’m mostly home. Here’s where travelling becomes a pain. Because my heart and soul are often in two places; and although I’m in the one I chose to reside in, I just left that other place – which grows more enticing on each visit because I don’t have to deal with the mundane while I’m there. It’s all happy fun no work time; a place I spend money but don’t have to worry about earning it. Really, is there something wrong with me? I already miss the London black? And Scotland - all purple, brown and green while simultaneously shrouded in mist and rain with bursts of the most glorious sunshine in the world. See what I’m up against here.

I set out on a much needed vacation and ended up on a pilgrimage of sorts. The problem started with the manuscript – which on a re-read is a detailed description of how much the writer loves the places she’s talking about – oh, I manage to fit in a plot around these descriptions, but really I’m all about the beauty and deepness and warm people and I’m extolling again; make me stop that. The next problem, chaperoning a group of high school and college-aged students who’ve either never travelled before, or never thought about the journey they take each time they step outside their comfort zone. As a YA writer, just watching the travel-transformation is about six months worth of library research. I am constantly amazed and moved by their zest for life and child-like awe. It’s why I write dammit! Finally, there is the simple realization that living in the UK all of those years ago is one of those profound life moments that made me who I am. I’ve discussed this before, so it wasn’t a new realization, but it always manages to smack me right in between the eyes each and every time I go back. This time, I realized both my British husband and I live with one-foot in both worlds at all times. This is what makes us so compatible. I’m not sure either of us belongs to either country anymore – we’ve chosen the US as home but the UK has a strong pull. It means we constantly question the practices and policies of both countries and can find an equal amount of pros and cons for each: It’s a unique but nerve-racking place to be.

So what’s that great moment of self-awareness? Why a pilgrimage? I’ve got nothing but Enya song lyrics for you:

Will you find the answer
In all you say and do?
Will you find the answer in you?
Each heart is a pilgrim,
Each one wants to know
The reason why the winds die
And where the stories go.
Pilgrim, in your journey
You may travel far,
For pilgrim it’s a long way
To find out who you are…
-Pilgrim

I’m one step further to finding out who I am. And sweet lord, I’m complicated! So, UK I will miss you, US I’m glad to be home and Scotland you are a magnificent wonderful place and I will heed your road signs which all say – “Haste Ye Back” on the back side.

Also, I’m getting over myself, spanking my inner moppet and moving on to A Month of Fun Days and Harry Potter next week! That is for reals and not for play, play (Fists of fury, Matt!).

I.AM.A.WRITER.

This ego-centric rant is what comes of being holed up in bed sick for a week. I think I may have had too much time to think about me. Which, it turns out, is good, but now you have to read all about it.

I spent a good deal of last month reading Amanda Hocking, the whiz-bang self-publisher from my home state who has just signed a-very-healthy-dollar-amount-book-deal. Her books are entertaining; they need another edit or two and hopefully a book publisher will give her that. She sites on her blog that she wants to write; she doesn’t want to deal in the nitty-gritty business of writing. Kudos to her and anyone else who does self-publish, it scares the bejeezus out of me. I too hate promoting myself; heck, I don’t even always let my facebook page know when I have a new blog post. This is stupid; I should just get over myself and learn from Amanda Hocking, who has done an amazing job promoting herself. She’s not done with self promoting now that she has an agent, editor and publishing house though. In fact, I think she might be in for a little bit of a shock as she will, most likely, be working even harder now to meet deadlines while still promoting herself beyond what the publishing house is willing to do. But I get it Amanda; I too just want to write. Well, I want people to read what I write, and like it, and pay for it and support my writing habit – vicious circle!

I.AM.A.WRITER.

Amanda Hocking is someone I can relate to because her ideas and writing style are not that dissimilar to my own. It’s always a good thing when someone making a lot of money doing what you want to do is only as good as you are; or maybe you are even better. You feel slightly more confident in what you are doing then. Of course after I finished reading Amanda Hocking, I picked up HP 7 again and cried a little. JK, you are just so good at what you do. Amanda Hocking and JK Rowling are really not the same writer. They both write YA but there the similarities end. I’m always amazed at how clean cut and concise JK is. If I ever meet her I want to know how she managed to edit so precisely all the way through to the end with deadlines, movie set visits and publicity junkets. I realize I am already a decent writer when I read authors like Amanda and I strive to be a better writer when I read authors like JK; but never do I think I’m in the wrong profession or that I can really ever be anything besides a writer.

I.AM.A.WRITER.

This week I received an email from the Unemployment Insurance of MN office asking me to fill out a work survey and self assessment. Apparently, if you’ve ever been on unemployment and you did not report the finding of a full-time job, they will keep tabs on you and “help” you try to locate employment; whether they give you money or not. This is a good thing. I know that. This is why I always fill out the surveys and assessments. They, like myself, want me to be a productive member of society. Here’s the problem: The unemployment office doesn’t really take into account who I actually am; to them I’m merely a number or statistic. If/when I’m gainfully employed they can move my number over from the jobless to the job-full. Really, it just means the surveys and assessments try to push me out of my writing box and into any category of employment I can simply do. The silly thing is, I sometimes agree. I spend hours going over these surveys and then looking for and applying for jobs in any field I know I’m qualified for. A few weeks ago I spent 3.5 hours in an interview for a job that was identical to the one I left two years ago simply because they called and I thought I should re-enter the full time work world. I didn’t get the job, thank goodness! What would I have done then?

I.AM.A.WRITER.

I often get frustrated at the part-time job hobby – it’s not a bad job at all, but it’s not who I am. When people ask me what I do, I never think to mention the part-time job hobby unless in reference to researching for a novel. I don’t talk about it on facebook or think about it when I’m not there; I doubt I’ve mentioned it on this blog except in vague passing. And this may be what stops me from getting jobs in interviews. I have to talk about my current employment and in most cases it pertains – or I can make it pertain – to the job I’m interviewing for. I mean it’s not that far off from copywriting; I do all of the same things and bridge all of the same communication boundaries – just for one store instead of an entire corporation of stores. But ask me about my freelancing work, or The Loft, or the novel I’m working on, or this blog (all things at least mentioned on my resume) and I’m sure you can see the light shining in my eyes. All other jobs are just a stepping stone to my writing career. Honestly, if I can’t be a writer than what am I? Nothing.

I.AM.A.WRITER.

Every year since I graduated from high school I talk to one particular friend on my birthday (mid February) and again on his birthday (beginning of March) without fail. These conversations used to be in person or by phone, but life often gets in the way; so for the last decade they’ve been via email. I hope you all have at least one friend like this. I’m borrowing from L.M. Montgomery here, but a real kindred spirit; someone in your life who honestly cares about the trivial information you are willing to part with on a not-so-frequent basis. Time seems not to matter for either of us; we always just pick up wherever it is that we left off the year before. I tend to confess things in these emails that I don’t to anyone else in the world. There are some things you just don’t want to – or need to – burden your nearest and dearest with…heck, on at least 360 days of the year I don’t even want to admit them to myself. Then there are those other days – days I need to spill it and tell someone how inadequate I sometimes feel. It helps that the return emails are similar in their pessimistic awkwardness. Oh, I don’t mean we dump on each other and then we’re both better humans until the next year – we share plenty of dreams and daily life happenings as well; I promise, usually the good does outweigh the bad. This year found us both complaining about work (my friend is a doctor in the middle of his residency and not so much liking the 80 hour work week on top of being a husband and a dad – with a second child on the way!!). I wrote back with some soul-searching comments about trying to make it as a writer when the rest of the world seems to be pushing me into a career in retail or office space. After I sent the email, it really hit home just how much I try to be these two different people. One who feels that looking for full-time employment, because she lost a job during economic-crisis-time, makes her a productive member of society; the other one is excited to have a decent part-time job hobby she doesn’t have to care about and gets to write for a good portion of each day. Why do I continue to tear myself apart like that? I know who I want to be, which one makes me happy and content.

I.AM.A.WRITER.

I mean do you know that since college – about 12 years or so – I’ve weighed between 150 and 250 lbs. And I don’t just mean I started out at one end of those 100 lbs and slowly moved my way towards the other end; I mean I’ve yo-yoed up and down between them. That’s not healthy. Six months ago, so about a year after getting the boot at corporate job TM, I topped out at 227 and instantly had a small nervous breakdown. Once you see 250, you really, really don’t ever want to see it again. Truly, once you see 200, you really don’t ever want to see it again; and I’ve seen 200 about 4 times in the last five years. Every time I’m loosing weight I think, “This will be the last time!” I really hope this IS actually the last time, but here’s what I realized during this week of self discovery. The periods in my life where I’m loosing weight usually coincide with great feats in writing: A new job, a new project, heck even just a complete month of consistency in my writing regimen. So maybe it’s time to admit it to myself and stop trying to do all of this other stuff.

I.AM.A.WRITER.

I believe I’ve blogged plenty about living and studying in London at the end of my undergrad career. Many moments from that time – in part because I kept a decent journal while in London – seem crisp and clean in my memory. One of those moments stands out as a big dot on the Mariah timeline – marking crucial moments that are often not so momentous at the time. In this particular instance, Ruth, a lovely Irish woman who used random air quotes and rode her bicycle all around London town, simply asked me a question. She taught a British Drama course which mostly consisted of reading plays and seeing London Theatre productions that sometimes corresponded but often didn’t. During a lecture one day she stopped to ask us all what we planned on doing with our lives. At the time I was getting ready to graduate, take my LSAT and move far away from MN to attend law school. I mean this was a clear cut path, one I was not going to be deterred from. For some reason I didn’t give the answer already in my head; I said the first thing that came to my mind, “In a perfect world I’d be a playwright”. It didn’t happen overnight. I still graduated, took the LSAT, applied for law schools and got accepted to two of my top choices; but that random comment kept sneaking through my subconscious, laying its seeds of truth. I have no doubt that I could be practicing law in another state right now, making a lot more money than I do at the part-time job hobby – but would I be happy, content or less-stressed? No. Writing is in my blood; it’s who I am.

I.AM.A.WRITER.

You, blog reader, already know this about me. I’ve already hashed through most of this in similar blog posts. You know more than I do apparently, because I keep trying to do something else. I don’t even want to do anything else; I’ve never really wanted to do anything else. Writing is my identity and my purpose. It’s not the only thing I am, but it is how I want to be remembered. We all have such a small amount of time here and I often feel a sense of urgency coming through when I write, like I have to get it all down while I still can. I want you to read what I have to say, my take on the human condition and the stories that inspire me. Wow, does that sound like I have a god complex? I don’t. I don’t think you have to read what I write or like what I write; I just know I have to write it.

I.AM.A.WRITER.

Maybe all writers continue to go through this self-doubt stage. Maybe it’s a constant battle. Maybe the next time I sit down to work on my novel I won’t get up to wash clothes, scrub out the sinks and get caught up on my email correspondence. Maybe I’ll just sit down and write. More than likely I will have good and bad writing days; I will fill more blog posts with my needs and concerns about my lack of writing – or lack of putting down on paper all of the words and thoughts swirling around in my head, desperately trying to find their way out.

Writing isn’t just what I do, it’s who I am. And sometimes I need to remind myself by screaming it out loud…I.AM.A.WRITER!

On Being Ill…with a Few Brief HP Musings

I’m sick with what I’m calling the MN Plague: It’s not quite the flu and not quite a cold and sometimes mimics strep throat or bronchitis – that’s what I have. And also, I threw my back out which means when the bronchitis symptoms arise I have to sit down or brace myself against a wall to stop the excruciating pain. I discovered quite some time ago that I hate writing when I’m sick – I just can’t do it. I can read and I can watch TV, but I usually just sleep a lot …and also eat popsicles and drink tea. The mere fact that I’m writing and posting this means I must be on the mend.

On the mending front, I haven’t wanted to sleep half as much today; but I’m also sad because I’m missing Irondale High School’s Harry Potter Club screening of HP 7.1. Irondale High School’s Harry Potter Club is a firm supporter of my blog, so I hope their event will be amazing! I believe they are also doing a Tri-Wizard Tournament in the spring (we’re in MN, spring is weeks away); hopefully I can be there for that. I’m with you in spirit – as I just put the movie in – and will lie here on the couch with ice on my back (and a very tolerant British husband) to watch it at roughly the same time.

In other related HP news, I met one of my blog followers and repeat commenter on Monday (Hi Anna!) so that was exciting and fun. Anna – and other people going on the Best of the British Isles tour I will help chaperon this summer (in MN that’s exactly 5 days after spring) – two months from today will find us visiting the birthplace of Harry Potter at the Elephant Coffee Shop in Edinburgh! As a writer this amuses me to no end. I can only hope one day people will tour the Barnes & Noble Cafe in the Galleria in Edina for similar reasons. Or make treks to the sunken gardens of Kensington Palace in London; not because it’s rumored Kate & Wills will make the palace their London home but because it is Mariah Whurr’s favorite place in the entire world to muse and write.

Really this entire brief post is to let you all know I haven’t forgotten about book number 7 and my lameness with the entire book/movie club blog. In fact, while I’ve been sick this week, I started reading book number 7 again in an attempt to get back into the swing of things. I propose that I really will…almost certainly…could actually be the truth this time…post an HP 7 blog sometime next week. Please note I did not say Monday – although I will try – because I don’t trust myself that much. Keep your fingers crossed…seriously, like all of them.

What’s On My iPod

Apparently this is a popular celebrity related question. I am not a celebrity, but music, and therefore my iPod, is a constant in my writing life. My iPod trumps the TV for background noise while I sit at my computer tappity typing away. My musical taste is fairly bizarre and abnormally eclectic, but after reaching the middle of my thirties this year I no longer care what you all think of my eccentricities (or lack thereof) in the musical realm.

I listen to a plethora of instrumental music while I’m writing. Not just classical and jazz, but big band and lots of orchestrations and full score soundtracks. This isn’t always the case – mostly because I listen to too many different types of music and yet not enough. I spent all of November listening to only Lady Gaga because her music played an important plot point in my current manuscript. Of course if I were to publish that particular ms and she didn’t give her permission, I’d have to come up with a fictional musician who had a similar repertoire. This is bothersome; the uniqueness of Lady Gaga is what makes the plot point important. It’s just another writing conundrum on the back burner slowly simmering, patiently waiting to become an actual publishing problem.

On-the-Go Playlist
I walk to and from the part-time job hobby most days. It’s often my favorite part of the day because it’s just me, the outdoors, the music and my castles in the sky. I’m lucky. The thing about walking 3 to 4 miles a day outside in MN all year long is that it’s ungodly cold a good portion of the time…and then Amazon hot and humid other times. This is when that little “on-the-go” playlist function on my iPod comes in handy. I can make a new playlist everyday, hit shuffle and go without the need of exposing bare skin to the elements when I don’t like, or want to listen to, a particular song.

As you’ve guessed, I’ve become an expert master at the on-the-go playlist – combining diverse rhythms, tempos, speeds and lyrics into a masterpiece of eclectic design in 45 minute spurts. There are lists that make me linger and ones designed to make me get from point A to point B in the quickest time. During the bitter cold walks I often put complicated and dense music on the list – hoping I can concentrate on unraveling the meaning behind the lyrics and forget about winter slowly ripping my face off with her cold burn. At other times I’m in a more completive mood and want easy music I can think around; music to flesh out a flat character or delete superfluous extra characters while I’m away from the computer and my words. And because I’m geekerrific and spent too much time in my formative years creating choreography for synchronized swimming routines, I often find myself thinking about different music that would work as dance or ice skating choreography: I’m still waiting for the “Caribbean Blue” waltz and the “Telephone” Paso Doble on DWTS. Come on, it would be awesome!

My on-the-go lists usually only last a day or two and then I try a different combination. Before now, the longest list lasted a week. Three weeks ago, when the weather here started thinking about maybe, possibly becoming springtime; I made a playlist to coincide with this wish for just a little bit warmer weather. It’s hard to figure out how to dress for outdoor activity during March and April in MN. There’s still snow and ice, but there’s also a lot of water and mud. In the morning a winter coat is needed but in the afternoon sometimes no coat at all is best. I wanted the playlist to take all of this into consideration, but mostly be hopeful and energetic. Something to brighten my mood and make me look around at all the changes spring brings with it. Three weeks later and I’m still quite content listening to this same playlist. Oh, I shuffle it everyday for a different combination and surprisingly, each new combination brings a different shade of spring into the light like an endless list of possibilities. And that’s what’s on my iPod right now.

The List
Here’s the list in alphabetical-by-title order. These aren’t all of my favorite songs or artists, but for some reason this playlist has intriguing staying power.

“Cecilia” – Gaelic Storm cover of Simon & Garfunkel
I listen to a lot of Irish bands in March; it’s my homage to St. Patrick’s Day. Plus, Gaelic Storm is one of my favorite bands and “Cecilia” has been on my list of favorite songs since 1994 when Torvill & Dean ice danced to it at the Olympics. I don’t think this version is better than the original, but doesn’t everything sound better with a bodhran drum?

“Charge” – Splendid
I have no idea why I like this song. I’m also not sure why it works so well here, but somehow it fits right in. There are those songs that may mean different things to you each time you listen, but you’re always going to love them. This is not one of those songs. At times I will go months – if not years – without hearing it; then when I do decide to listen, I need to hear it over and over again. This is one of those times. Plus, the line, “Confusion is a definite direction” is oddly gratifying.

“Come On Eileen” – Dexy’s Midnight Runners
The 80s at their best! You know you love it too. Not only is it frenetic and easy to walk to, but for me it is nostalgic. When I moved to London I was still young enough to listen to most things my mom warned me about, so I did not take any CDs or Discman with me (Remember I’m old and therefore my college years were spent pre-mp3). Week two found me inside a Tower Records purchasing a two tape compilation of 80s music from the sale bin. The entire collection became my London soundtrack (and not just mine, it was so popular we hooked up little travel speakers to my walkman and turned it into party music on a weekly basis) and this song was my anthem. Toora loora toora loo-rye-a, I could hum this tune forever.

“Free” – Zac Brown Band
This song puts a smile on my face every time I hear it. It so doesn’t mean that I’m a country music fan; it just means sometimes country music exactly puts your abstract thoughts and feelings into song and makes them seem easy and attainable. Also, damn you Chris for suggesting this one…and by that I mean thank you.

“Hallelujah” – Vitamin String Quartet cover of Paramore
Euphoria. That’s what I feel every time I hear this song. I’m fairly certain it was made to move to. I do like the cover better than the original. With music you don’t always need words. Sometimes they are essential, sometimes it’s a partnership, but often the music speaks for itself.

“Illusion & Dream” – Poets of the Fall
Truthfully, the lead singer’s voice of this Finnish alternative rock band makes me melt. I have no idea what he looks like, but it really doesn’t matter. Yep, you all know what I’m talking about. POTF are very easy to write to as a rule and apparently just as easy to walk or run to. This song is a little slower than some of their others; it gets under your skin and sinks into all your nerve endings in a hypnotic way that scares me a little – but mostly leaves me peaceful and smiling.

“Jubilee” – Mary Chapin Carpenter
No one is surprised by this at all, at all. I often find my soul in a Mary Chapin Carpenter or Ani DiFranco song; so inevitably, one of them usually appears on my on-the-go playlists. What I like about Miss Carpenter – and all singer/songwriter performers – is the variety: many different styles, many different moods. I don’t have a favorite song; rather, a different song lends itself to my state of mind on any given day. At this moment in time that song happens to be this one.

“Kelly’s Wellies” – Gaelic Storm
March and Gaelic Storm again. Also, there’s so much water right now, I really should invest in a pair of rain boots; the snow boots aren’t really doing the trick. I’m wading through my fair share of ankle deep water and jumping into lots and lots of puddles: Yes, I am 35 going on 5, thank you for asking. But really, traditional Irish music is actually tangible. Much like the African-American spiritual, “Trad” is a part of the people and the place it originates from – stories past down in an oral tradition. The music itself can be touched, sensed and felt. If you ever get a chance to hear it in person – a bunch of local Irish lads in a small pub somewhere in Ireland – DO IT!

"Somewhere Over the Rainbow" – Israel Kamakawiwo’ole
Don’t judge me! Actually, feel free to judge me; I don’t mind. Seriously though, there is something about listening to “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” in spring. And the ukulele version is obviously the best, duh.

"Teeth" – Lady Gaga
I admit it, I am a little monster. I think all of Lady Gaga’s music is on my iPod - which must make me a fan. And for no reason at all this is my very favorite. The beat is so strong; I think high school marching bands should think about performing this one. That is if high school marching bands can perform something containing the lyric, “take a bite of my bad girl meat”…so perhaps not. I feel fierce while stomping around listening to this song, like I should be on a runway modeling clothes with Tyra Banks somewhere.