Songs about Jane....

Some friends in college once made a mix tape for me of "Jane" songs. I wish this had been out when I was in college.....but I think it's lovely.

Got any other Jane songs I may not have heard?

The Ghost and APj

We moved into the Weise House in 1974. It's funny, my folks have lived there for more than 30 years, longer than all (except one) in the neighborhood, and it is still called the Weise House. It was built sometime between WWI and WWII, relatively new, compared to some of the houses nearby. I remember feeling strange spots in the house almost immediately upon moving in. My mother thought I was just being sulky- as I hadn't wanted to move from California to Nebraska. When asked to explain it, all I could come up with was that it felt like someone was watching me. Like, if I turned around quick enough, I would catch whomever it was. I often found things (keys, change, books) in places that I knew I had not left them, but was always told that I just must have forgotten putting them there. Over time, anything not found was blamed on "Jayne's ghost."

I moved back to California in 1980. Funny how my vindication came only after I left....
My older brother John had slept in the moon room for years (yes, yes, a post will come soon about my mothers penchant for naming the rooms), but had abandoned the room in favor of a room in the basement after a nightmare. None of us has ever been told what the dream was about-- but we all heard him yell.... Jason, who up until this point had slept in the cubbyhole, lept at the opportunity for a "real room."
And the sightings began...
During the early summer of 1985 (a decade after we had moved in), Jason was talking to his girlfriend on the phone. "I saw something moving...out of the corner of my eye," Jason explained, "I thought it was Mom, so I just kept talking to Nickki. Suddenly, something grabbed my arm. I looked up -- and there was nothing....but something there! I screamed, threw the phone at the nothing, and bolted from the room." Jason refused to sleep in the room, and moved back into the cubbyhole. To this day, he refers to the Moon Room as the Ghost's Room, and will not go in alone.

In August of 1985, I sent my father a balloon-a-gram for his birthday. As many of you know, the latex ones begin to droop and drag by the second day, and the mylar ones keep floating. Such was the case, and so my mother had set the bunch next to the piano in the living room. As they were sitting on the couch one evening, the balloons began to move towards the dining room. "It's probably the air current" Dad assured Mom. "Let's follow it" challenged Mom(she is so-o-o brave and fearless!). Hardy Boy and Nancy Drew followed the balloons as they made their way through the dining room, into the kitchen, made a 60 degree turn into and through the "S" shaped hallway, and then proceeded up the stairs to the second floor. At the top of the stairs, the balloons made a 90degree left into my parents room, followed by a 90degree right turn into the football room (yes,yes more named rooms). The balloons floated up, and then sat on Dad's football chair. "I don't think it's air currents," concluded Hardy Boy. "Don't tell Jason,"admonished Nancy Drew.

The following spring found Jayne and baby Erynn visiting Nebraska. Erynn and I were sleeping one night when I felt the covers go taut. Thinking it was the family cat (aptly named, Spooky), I reached back to pet her. There was something there, resting against my legs.....but it wasn't Spooky....even though it was scary! "Please go away," I whispered, "I don't want to wake Erynn." The ghost left.

My mother thought the ghost had left for good, but I knew he was still around.

He didn't show himself again until about six years ago: I was watching T.V. in the den. Erynn was spending the night at the neighbors house, and Mom had gone up to take a bath. I was tired, so I decided to go up to bed. Turning the lights out in the den, I headed towards the staircase, turning the lights off in the living room as I started up the stairs. Suddenly, the light in the kitchen went on. "Hmmm..." I thought, "Mom must have come down." I turned back and went to the kitchen. Which was empty. "Strange," I thought, "I'm sure the light was of-" The light in the living room was on. Switching off the light in the kitchen, I sprinted to the living room, hoping to catch my playful mom, but the living room was empty too. Switching the light off, turning towards the stairs, I saw that the den light was on again. "Goodnight, ghost," I called, "I'm happy to see you, but I'm done playing for the night." I went up the stairs. Quickly, and looking straight forward, I headed to my bed. And turned the nightlight on....just in case.

Oh.....just in case you're wondering.......Mom was still upstairs in the tub.....

I always have the nightlight on........

My Favorite color is also the color of my soul....

What color is your soul painted? Purple Your soul is painted the color purple, which embodies the characteristics of sensuality, spirituality, creativity, wealth, royalty, nobility, mystery, enlightenment, arrogance, gaudiness, mourning, confusion, pride, delicacy, power, meditation, religion, and ambition. Purple falls under the element of Earth, and was once a European symbol of royalty; today it symbolizes the divine. Click Here to Take This Quiz

Quizzes and Personality Tests I swear I didn't tamper with the results on this one!

GO BIG RED!

I am back from my trip "home." Dad was better than I had expected -- which was a blessing. He will not get better -- this I know. I am happy that he was well enough to go out for lunch....and to sit and joke and talk.

But I want to share Lincoln with you. Too many people assume too much about the midwest. And we all know what ASSUME-ing makes of you and me...

Upon arriving in Lincoln, one of the first sites you'll drive by is the University of Nebraska's football stadium. Although it may not look impressive on the outside, the stadium holds more than 85,000 screaming Big Red fans--making it the third largest city in Nebraska on any given HomeGame saturday.

One of my favorite aspects of Lincoln is the preponderance of parks! The city has more than 99 miles of trails and 114 parks (covering 5000+acres!) There seems to be a park within a walking distance or stones throw from most neighborhoods. Here is one that is a short stroll from my house.

Ahhhh!!!! You want to see the house of APJ? Wait no futher -- here you go. This two-story Colonial Brick house was built sometime around WWI. Even though it is young in age -- it does have a ghost. The ghost resides in the Moon Room(upper right window), APJ's bedroom was the lower right window. Ghost did have contact with three of the six children - me being one of them.

But that's a story for another day.

Come -- folllow me to the Kitty Walk. I think it was called the "Kid's walk" because it was the path for children through the park on the way to the elementary school. "Kid's Walk" became "Kiddie Walk" which became the"kitty Walk." These imprints have been there since I was in high school!

But I want to show you two of my favorite things down in the park.....hurry!

First - here is the memorial marker for my Aunt Jane. She was a teacher (hmmm) at the elementary school nearby. The marker sits in front of this memorial tree. That vast sidewalk you see is all that remains of the railroad track that used to run through town. It now is one of the longest stretches of bike path in any major city.

In fact, bikes play an interesting and integral role in the city. In 2003, the a public art project was undertaken with amazing results. Here are a few of my faves, but please go and look at the other 69 bikes created.

I hope you enjoyed my quick trip to Lincoln Nebraska......home to so much more than corn.....

Life on Pause

Leaving today for Nebraska -- to see the folks. Dad's health is the same---and will not get better. And so, I go home as often as possible -- and say goodbye each time I am there. I used to spend my holidays "home" catching up and visiting with old friends. Now, I don't want to spend those minutes away from my family.

Of course, my folks have no internet, or ::shock:: computer. So I will take my trusty PC Tablet down to the schoolyard and steal their signal.

Luv you all-- and thanks for all the patience with my wobblies(yes, I'm talking to YOU. YOU know who YOU are). I know I'll be more of myself when I return.

Paolo Nutini

okay--gotta share one of my new faves. Only nineteen years old......

Space....the final frontier....

Sorry, sorry....been a bit distracted as of late. Brain is fuzzy, more so than usual. So.....I've decided to get some spring cleaning done. Yes, I know: IT'S JULY!!!!! But cor, it's gotta be spring somewheres, yea?

Erynn vacated her room four years ago when she left for college-- and removed her furniture two years later. I decided to convert that space to my office -- as it is ever-so-slightly larger than the other room.

And yes, it took me two years ::gasp:: to totally finish it all. I left the walls the color it had been(canary yellow) because her artwork looked smashing against. Course.....she's taken most of her work south with her....

But anyways -- I put in the floor myself-- supposed to look like slate. I like it because it doesn't show the dirt.

I wired the light too! One of the things I learned from Voldemort: Green is ground, white is neutral, and other colors are hot. Or is it white is hot and green is cold? Whatevah --I just know to GO TURN THE BREAKER OFF before starting to match the little wires to each other with the little barrett cap thingys. Please don't be scared -- as many things as I've wired in this house, I must be doing it correctly....

But here my pride and joy: My craft armoire. Built by me -- from a kit, of course. Still -- it took me 6 hours to assemble, much of that time sorting the bolts, and screws, and nuts..

--sorry, sent myself to the store--

and Voila! It is done! Now I can put my sewing machine, scrapbook stuff, and other crafty things into it (and out of kitchen cabinets and bedroom drawers)and close it up when necessary.

I have now moved onto cleaning my closet. I was trapped in the closet earlier this evening, buried, groped and attacked by the hangers that were breeding on the floor. (You do know that that is how there ends up being so many on the floor, right? Hanger sex!). Yup, trapped in the closet can make you a little bit crazy.....just ask Tom Cruise.

::rim shot::

Thank you.....and goodnight!

HELP! HELP!

no....I haven't fallen.....and yes I can get up. But, I still need some assistance. Seems I've been telling all that I'm gonna do a show at the Rogue.....so do I must.

But what am I gonna do!?!?!?!?!? Can't seem to convince either Steve or Marcel to write me something fab -- both seem to think I've got my own story to tell.

Actually, Marcel has a great idea for me -- but I think it'll have to wait till the following year -- more on that later.

So, I've gone back over my blog, found some of my favorite stories -- okay, fine, quite a few of my stories! Please go over HERE and read some of them, and let me know which ones YOU like. Then I may be able to weave them into some sense of a show worthy of the Rogue.....

For Erynn

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Princess Erynn. She lived in a castle with the Queen Mommy and the King Daddy. And her best friend was a baby dragon.

From the time she was almost three, all the way up until she was seven or so,this is how her favorite bedtime stories started. Princess Erynn and the baby dragon --who never aged, and often resembled Emily the Dinosaur (with wings, of course), had some great adventures. Of course, the storyteller would weave in messages, morals, ethics and love (loads of love) whenever/wherever she could. When Erynn suffered nightmares, Princess Erynn showed the baby dragon how bad dreams could be beat. Friends made Erynn cry? No problem: Baby dragon taught Princess Erynn how to forgive. The Queen Mommy battled an evil Warlock that kidnapped the fair Princess, and the King Daddy bravely faced a hundred snakes (Voldemorts' biggest fear) to bring Princess Erynn and the baby dragon home when they ran away.

Often, when she would have friends spend the night -- Erynn would make me work them into the story too. Princess Erynn, Duchess Taryn and the beautiful Lady Brandy rode unicorns and rescued forest creatures from the red bull (yes, yes, I stole part of that one from The Last Unicorn. What can I say? I was tired that night!).

"The castle is too cold. Too cold and silent! I must get out!" the Queen Mommy said aloud as she made her rounds. Evenings were still the best time for her -- She could walk the Keep, and not worry about the whisperings and sideways glances of the nobles and peasants. Nerves and concerns diminished with each deep breath of the cool country air. "How could I ever possibly leave?" she asked the trees. "Just over there is where Princess Erynn found the lost ponies. And you," she challenged the mulberry, "do you remember the hours she and the baby dragon spent in your boughs? Ah, the orchard: depending on the season, you were either a haunted forest, a winter wonderland, or an Easter eggstravaganza!"

A smile touched the corners of the Queen Mommy's lips as she went into the castle. She drew her wrap tighter around her shoulders, and curled up next to the fire. As she dozed off, she heard a familiar voice.
"Mummy I love you."
"I love you too."
"Mummy, I love you three."
"Sweetie, I love you four."
"But Mummy, I love you more. Please tell me a story. Please Mummy, please?"

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Princess Erynn. She lived in a castle with the Queen Mommy and the Queen Daddy. And her best friend was a... a baby dragon...."

Lecram: FAB-U-LOUS!!!!

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THE APj PREAKNESS

So.... I own three horses: Rio, Lady and Bunny. I don't ride much anymore. Mostly because I get bored riding around in circles on my propery, and I don't like riding alone. Ya know, like most things, doing it "alone" can get kinda dull...

Those of you who have been out to the ranch can attest to their sweet nature.

Rio is a thoroughbred, and a retired racehorse. Even though he is 23 years old, he still thinks of himself as Secretariat. Bunny and Lady are quarter-horses. Quarter horses are called that because they are known for their speed in the quarter-mile.

Here's one of my favorite stories:

"Hey, ya' wanna race?" Voldemort challenged, as he zoomed by on Lady.

"No," I retorted, holding Rio back, "You know I'm trying to calm him down! Why do you always do that?"

"Chicken!" he answered, "You just are afraid you'll lose."

Competition was always a large part of our relationship....hey, with two Scorpios, what else would you expect? But I had spent two years working with Rio - trying to calm him down. He did love to run, though. Often, at the end of a ride, I would "let him go" in the 100 acre field behind us. Rio and I would just run - racing the wind.

But Voldemort was itching for a real race. He would come up next to us, taunting and teasing.

"Did you know that quarterhorses are faster than thoroughbreds?"

"You're just afraid she'll beat you, huh?"

Rio and I finally had enough. We were ready to put them in their place.

"Fine!" I replied, "we accept your challenge!"

The race was planned - and the course was laid and checked: the soft dirt track was bounded by the road on the east, and the grape field to the west. A quarter mile exactly in length. Since we didn't have a starting gate (this being the Madera Ranchos and not the Kentucky Derby), neighbors were enlisted to be the official start and finish lines.

"GO!"

And they're off! Oh! Bad start for APj riding Rio (formally known as Rialto Park). He seemed a little bothered by the starting flag. That meant a good start for Voldemort, riding Just My Lady. But wait -- what's this? Barely four strides and Rio is catching -- pardon, make that passing -- holy cow?!?!?!? How fast is he!!!!!!! Crimenently! With not even a third of the course run, it looks like APj is breaking the sound barrier and leaving a stunned Voldemort and Lady in the dust.!"

Yup. That's right. Eat my dust, fothermucker. Eat my dust.

Horrorscope for APj

Wednesday, June 13th, 2007 PST

Scorpio (Oct 23 - Nov 21)
A current relationship dilemma stems from how passionate you feel now. You want to share your emotions, but someone else prefers it when you hang out in the shallow end of the pool instead of diving into the deep water. You can get what you need by consciously talking about the most important things. Go where you must, but be gentle in your approach with others.

I know, I know!

"Those horoscope things are just silly"

"They're not real - they're just a scam."

blah-blah-blah.

then it goes and talks about me being comfortable in the shallow end!!!!

Hel-LO!?!?!? Who went and told 'em about that!?!?!?

Nightmares already!?!?!?!?

My dreams are exhausting.....
I'm either stuck in some deja-vu Lady with the Flashlight eyes saga or I'm searching for a potty.

But last nights was a doozie -- still trying to figure it out:

It's Thursday night -- It must the the first weekend in March -- 'cause I'm driving to Diana's South to deliver their money box.

Only....Diana's South is south of the border. as in Mexico.

Omigawd, I sent Katie to deliver Diana's North....where the frick is that now!?!?!?!?

So I'm driving at warp speed, cause I've got to be back to teach on Friday morning --

going over my schedule -- when I suddenly remember that I'm doing a show in the Rogue. (Crap! I knew I was forgetting something) I pull over to the side of the road just south of San Diego to check the Rogue Map -- and discover that my cafe show (the one I forgot to write) has been changed to a Mainstage show at.....wait for it......Diana's South.

Maybe this means I shouldn't do a show?

LADY JAYNE!

Right. Sorry. Been busy -- what with Erynn's graduation from college (woo-hoo), end of school year for me (bigger woo-hoo), yard work, et al....I've been slacking. and it is time to cease the slackage! After all, there is no time for slackage when you are known as:



My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Her Exalted Highness Duchess Apj the Mad of Bumswick by the Hole
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

err....not so sure I like this one....don't get me wrong: I like the exalted highness and all, but the references to being "mad" and having a wick up me bum ain't so appealing.....

Perhaps.....

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Viscountess Apj the Nimble of Westessexchestershire
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

being a countess (vis or otherwise) is good. Would love to be nimble enough for west (or east) sex.....but Chester!?!?!? puh-leaz.....


My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Venerable Lady Apj the Bloody of Leg over Wallop
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Hey....I'll put me bloody leg over, wallop or no wallop!

And after a leg over....wallop or no.....I'm looking for dessert. And....what better dessert than...

My Fortune Cookie told me: Individuals who make their abode in vitreous edifices would be well advised to refrain from catapulting projectiles. Get a cookie from Miss Fortune

So....I think this means if you live in a gooey crack, don't throw shit....or something like that.....

But I wasn't swimming, Daddy...

I remember it was a hot day.

Not unusual for Central California – but hot is hot.

I remember that we’d been riding our bikes in our bathing suits. Now, that means we either were going swimming or had been swimming. I don’t remember.

Isn’t it funny how that memory thing works – or doesn’t? Some parts are so clear, others…not so clear.

But I do remember that we were hot.

Sweltering hot.

And we had just stopped to dip our feet in the water.

We were not going swimming – just dipping our feet in the water.

And then my brother rode by – and said, “Get out of there! You are in so much trouble!”

Almost immediately following that warning, my Mom came by in the car, and said, “Jayne Elizabeth Day, get home now!”

Upon my arrival at home…..My Dad gave me the whupping of my life.

For years, hell. For DECADES I’ve harbored a bit of righteous indignation over that whupping. I mean, we weren’t swimming. We were just getting our toes wet…

I awoke this morning to this headline:
Fresno 4th-grader had been trying to get basketball.

-and I dissolved in tears. Yshema Snowden wasn’t swimming – she was just trying to retrieve her basketball.

I was probably around the same age when I had my toe-dipping experience. There but for the grace of God, my brother Jeff, my Mom and my Dad…..

I just want to thank my family for always being there for me. And please, keep the Snowden family in your thoughts and prayers this week.

One more thing that make me go hummmm..

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May 24th.
Midnight.
I've a date.
with Jack Sparrow.
got any rum?

SAVIOUR OF THE SKIES

My absolutely favorite song....and this guy knows how to spell my name right....

If I had a song....I'd sing it in the morning...

In response to Lime's question on the Airplane Jane video post: "You've got a song?"
Let me explain.....

So…I met this singer-songwriter a few years ago. I’m sure I’ve told you about him: lyrics ta knot yer knickers in a twist and all…

Don’t believe me? Check these lyrics out:

….I had to go
to a foreign shore
and though you’re far
I feel your arms
Around my heart.

I give to you my only dream
It’s all that I live for
Just close your eyes
And don’t you cry
Cos’ I’m with you…..
My Only Dream, by kien lim, 2004

“Whoa!” I thought, “what incredible lyrics. This guy is deep….”

I mean, doesn’t that song just scream love and devotion? I’m thinking it’s about some guy who goes a zillion (times 2) miles away to build a life for his love and himself… I just had to know (yes, inquiring minds and all) –

“Tell me,” I begged and pleaded, “Give me the back story? Who’s it about? Or is it too personal?”

“Well, ya’ see,” he responded, “it was inspired by the deaths of a bunch of Chinese cockle famers that drowned.”

Yes. Drowned…
Drowned….but called home to China to talk to their loved ones before they died…..

(see why we refer to him as “dark pop?”)

Now….flash ahead a few months….to the summer of 2005.

“What’s it like to skydive?” questions the troubadour.

“Why?” I respond, “Do you wanna jump?”

“Well….I’m not sure. But I’m wanting to write a song about flying…..and skydiving….”

Several emails and much begging later (patience is not my best virtue), I received this in the mail:



Motorhead can't hesitate
A paralytic mind will find her dead
She stole a ride with the morning sun
From the edge did she fall
Into a dizzy spin and a passion born
She found her name far above the clouds

She is flying
With the sighing savior of the skies
So glorious
Is this golden dayOf faith

Scatter her soul to the wind
The rush of the world is beckoning
A score and oneHundred miles per hour

And as horizons fill her mind
Serenity and peace abide
No bitterness
No more lonely lies

So glorious
Is this golden day of falling free
So gloriousIs this amber day
She found her home
Within a dream
Of blue reality
Saviour of the Skies , by kien lim 2005

Okay, okay – but Motorhead is so much better than Motormouth – which he threatened to change it to….
And come on – dontcha just luv the bit about finding a name above the clouds!?!?

So yup – even if the whole thing ain’t mine, this is my song – I’ve claimed it. I don’t think there’s any hidden tragedies within – no dead cockle farmers, no suicidal roadies, no tragic vacation junkies.

At least I don’t think so....

Egads, kien, please don’t tell me if there is.

I love the song just the way I hear it: happy, serene and peaceful….and all that at one hundred miles per hour.

Blue skies ya’ll,
APj

Airplane Jane Music Video

Hey!!!! I've got a(nother) song. Of course, this one is much more silly than the other....but it DOES say my name....

And no....I've never met this bloke -- never been to Florida!!

So....how did he know that I needed a map!?!?!?

A few of my favorites.....

So....while the troubadour was here, I loaned him a few books -- one he....ummm....didn't care for..... and two he liked.

The two he liked were from one of my favorite authors - C.S. Lewis. Like many, the first Lewis I read was the Narnia Chronicles. Then I discovered the Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce, Mere Christianity, Surprised by Joy.....the list goes on. Lewis approaches our relationship with God and the world in a truly unique way. I felt like sharing a few of my favorite Lewis quotes:

There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, “Thy will be done,” and those to whom God says, “All right, then, have it your way.”

It seems that so much of my life journey I have spent giving instructions to God. In hindsight, these have been the "Jonah" portions of my life -- the times when I boldly went in the opposite direction. And sometimes, God, very firmly, let me know that it was THY way, not MY that was important.

It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.

I cannot change into what I need to be by doing nothing! And, although it is kinda hard to accept being an egg, good or bad--I accept that I must change. Because no change at all will result in something: me going rotten!

Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.

Perhaps this is the one I love the most, and the one I struggle with the hardest. I keep shoving love in the casket -- hoping to keep it safe. But it is not safe: it changes. It changes, like the egg above, into something rotten. I need to unlock the casket, and risk being vulnerable.

Yes, yes, I know I keep saying it! I need to do it!!! But, again.....I am Jonah.....