Issue 15

Welcome!

This week we have 4 excellent theme posts for you from:

Altjiranga Mitjina,
Sunny With A Chance of Clouds,
Things in Your Head
and
Three Bright Stars.

Our third Words and Pictures column written by Sara from Suburban Oblivion

Our second Blog Review by Meg from Simply Nutmeg on Four by 40, a blog written by Carla a forty something woman with four kids who loves a boy named Nathan.

plus

Our Voices to Hear column with sample track from this weeks artists Marah.



(Click on the play button and open the other links in a new tab or window to listen to her whilst reading the other posts)

This weeks Theme:

"Choose a song whose lyrics relate to something in your life and then tell us about it"

Feature Post

Someone Else's Tomorrow
Written by john from Altjiranga Mitjina

Have you ever been baptized in the cool winter water
On a Sunday Morning When the sky was gray
We fled out of the churchyard so cold it was silver
Into gold. Tan and blue cars and the cars drove away

And all the memories fade Send the ghosts on their way
Tell them they’ve had their day It’s someone else’s tomorrow...


Click here to read the full post

Someone Else’s Tomorrow

Written by John from Altjiranga Mitjina


Have you ever been baptized in the cool winter water
On a Sunday Morning When the sky was gray
We fled out of the churchyard so cold it was silver
Into gold. Tan and blue cars and the cars drove away

And all the memories fade Send the ghosts on their way
Tell them they’ve had their day It’s someone else’s tomorrow

The tall and the tiny ships on the water
Smaller and smaller floating away
Will never return now all wooden and burned down
They echo and groan now in their salty graves

And the memories fade Send the ghosts on their way
Tell them they’ve had their day It’s someone else’s tomorrow.

- Patty Griffin

Of course she was a ghost.

It was close to midnight and there was a mist hanging over New Orleans. The streets were deserted. I was sleeping on a park bench in the Quarter. I saw her walking down the steps from the St. Louis Cathedral.

“I couldn’t get in.” Her voice was tiny and not directed at me. She was so lonely that she was talking just to hear another voice.

I sat up as she came closer and took a seat next to me on the bench. I pulled my knees up to my chest and hugged my legs to me. She was ignoring me, as the dead will the living.

She was young. I didn’t want to think how young. There was so much she would never experience that I didn’t want to imagine. Her hair was too bright a red to be natural. She had something stuck through her nose and her eyelids each had multiple rings in them. Her shirt was a size too small for her and ripped around the bottom exposing her belly. She was wearing shorts and flip flops. She was a gutter punk when she died, one of those kids who flock to New Orleans and end up living on the streets and in the gutters and on the steps of the moonwalk.

“I know.” She was surprised when I looked at her and actually spoke to her. “It never lets your kind in.”

“You can hear me?!” She turned towards me with a look of such hunger in her eyes that I felt embarrassed. “You can see me!”

“Yes.” I wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t the first ghost I had seen or talked to.

“How? No one has been able to see me since…” She didn’t finish the thought, but I knew what she meant. There were tears in her eyes, being dead doesn’t stop us from wanting to talk to others.

“I’m here to help you.” I kept my tone quiet and even.

“Help me? It’s too late to help me. Where were you when that man killed me?” Some poor girl living on the streets and some strange man taking advantage of her need and than killing her, it was such an old story and such a sad story that it probably didn’t even make more than a slight mention in the paper.

“I know. I wish I could have been here than, but like you said it’s too late for that now. I’m here to help you now.” I stretched my legs out in front of me. They were cramping from sleeping on the park bench.

“Do you know if my Mom has been looking for me?” There was such a yearning in her face that I had to look away. I looked towards the church where she had tried to find refuge only to be denied admittance.

“I’m sure she has.” I lied. Or maybe I didn’t and her Mom had been looking for her since she ran away from whatever problem was so great that she had decided she could not live at home or talk to her Mom.

“I liked the city better when it was filled with water. There were less people around.” A lot of ghosts expressed a fondness for the city after the hurricane

I wanted to reach out and cup her cheek and offer her some sort of condolences but knew my hand would just pass through the mists that made up her body now. “It’s time for you to move on. It’s someone else’s tomorrow now.”

“I don’t understand.” They never did. I still wasn’t sure. “What are you? Are you a ghost too?”

“No,” I still wasn’t sure how to answer to that question. “I’m in a limbo between the living and dead. I’m here to help those of you that haven’t passed on yet.”

“What if I don’t want to pass on? Maybe I like being a ghost.” She could even hear the lie in that statement.

I stood up and offered her my hand. She look at it for a moment and than reached out for it. Her hand drifted through mine but she followed alongside as we walked towards the river. “Where am I going?”

“To a better place. This is not where you belong. This world is not for you any longer.”

As we walked towards the river and she left me for wherever it is they go I realized that I did not even know her name.


If you're reading this it can only mean one thing, that John from altjiranga mitjina has once again forgotten to provide a blurb after whatever it is he wrote for this issue. All he can say is that a mind is a terrible thing to waste. He'd write more but he'd just forget whatever it was he wrote.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Written by Jen from Sunny With A Chance of Clouds.


All my bags are packed.

I’m ready to go.

Ah yes, flying. I had forgotten how much I despise it. I used to travel a fair amount in a previous life but since starting this job four years ago, I’ve been able to avoid it like the plague. My two small children and my Hubby’s crazy work schedule were great excuses. But I knew my respite couldn’t last forever and I recently found myself on an overnight trip.

On the day of my trip, I went through my purse and removed all my nail files and nail clippers. Don’t want to lose those! What I DIDN’T know was that I had to have my toiletries in a quart ziplock bag. Not only did I not have small bottles of my toiletries, I didn’t even have a ziplock bag!! Yeah, I know, I was surprised too. That’s alright--Walmart is right on the way. Gotta love Walmart!! A quick run in for trial sized toothpaste, styling gel and hairspray (Of course none of them were my brands) and I was on my way again.

A few things in security had changed since I last flew. All shoes now have to be removed and x-rayed. Pwew!! I’m telling you—that place was rank!!!! The security people must have no sense of smell!!! Thankfully, the line moved quickly!!

Of course, some things about air travel never seem to change. There was bad weather somewhere in the country so all the flights were delayed. We were supposed to leave at 6pm but it was delayed until 6:15….no wait…..6:30……..uhhhmmmm let’s make that 6:45…….Yeah, 7pm, that’s what we meant, yeah. As we finally board the plane, I could see that people with seats in the back had taken up all the overhead compartments in the front. Luckily my bag was small and fit under the seat. Then my seatmate boarded reeking of cheap perfume. I immediately got a headache. Luckily, it was only an hour flight. I turned up the air and stuck my nose in my book until we landed.

How was the return trip? Almost a carbon copy of the other—stinky shoes, bad weather, delays and cheap perfume. Ah but it’s over. I’ve paid my dues and hope to enjoy another long respite from flying.

Jen E is a working Mom who spends her time with her two beautiful children, her hyper pup and her wonderful husband and shares it all at Sunny With A Chance of Clouds.

2 a.m.

Written by Wendy from Things in Your Head.


I would love to dig into the lyric well that I possess and come out with something earthy and real like a Beatles song or cool and tortured like a Janis Joplin song. But what came to mind when I saw the question “Choose a song whose lyrics relate to something in your life”, was a song made popular by Grey’s Anatomy called 2 a.m. and that made me sort of want to throw up a little bit. I love the song but I thought I was deeper than that. Turns out, I’m not.

Why this song? Good question. Thanks for asking. This line “Cause you’re just as far in as you’ll ever be out.” hit me like a semi when I heard it the first time. It was a perfect line for this middle-age quagmire I find myself in; looking longingly at the past, but conveniently forgetting how much being single and looking sucked; angsting over the current but truly able to see that my life is good and I am a lucky son of a bitch (only in female form) and mad at myself for having a mental laundry list of issues at the ready. Also this line “'Cause you can't jump the track, we're like cars on a cable, and life's like an hourglass, glued to the table” really speaks to this time in my life. We have made our choices, for the most part, and are largely happy with them, content in the blankets we have chosen to wrap our beds in but there is always a question mark, isn’t there? For me, there is. It is part of what drives my writing and my wondering. It is the best part of life, the vivid questioning. Perhaps it is only possible from a place of security and that really is the glue smeared on the track. So if Anna Nalick nailed my life in a song that has nothing to do with the 60s and soaring, vivid change, well then I guess I have to admit it. I still kind of wish it was Free Bird or something.

Wendy writes about matters small and insignificant with brazen authority at Things in Your Head. She loves music, books, candy corn and the word ‘consortium’. She hates boa constrictors and mean people.

Christmas Time Is Here

Written by Liz Medwid from Three Bright Stars.


I love Christmas! And yet, ever since I’ve been married, and more since we’ve started our own family, it fills me with a certain gnawing dread. This year, I have foresight: my pregnancy gives me that superpower. We’ll have a new baby in November, our second. As everyone else heads into the land of Santa, my poor husband and I will be heading into that bleak and sprawling land of no sleep. How can we also survive everyone’s festive expectations – including my own?

As with writing, the key will be editing – ruthlessly cutting away any superfluous Christmas detail, leaving a tangible and tolerable Christmas essence: all of the pleasure, and none of the pain. No Christmas tradition is safe if our sanity is to be preserved.

But, as with writing, cutting is hard, like killing that superfluous character who has become a close friend, and yet adds nothing to the plot. Should I cut gingerbread-decorating? Do we miss viewing the Christmas displays on Candy Cane Lane? Do I forget my promise to host family on the day? What about my desire – NEED – to bake lots and lots of festive goodies?

Part of the answer has occurred to me, although I have to fight the current season to put it into action. Start the season now! It’s so obvious. I’m going to be large with pregnancy complaints by October, so Christmas preparations must be completed before then. I’ve already gathered some festively themed crafting supplies to make combination Christmas-birth announcement cards. I’ve never made cards before, but I must say my first attempt is respectable!

Confections can be made well in advance and frozen. With a little creativity, even Christmas shopping can be completed by autumn.

It’s a little annoying to notice everyone else’s total lack of festive spirit, though. Martha Stewart’s website has a very limited Christmas page, and most of the stores don’t even carry a Christmas theme until, what, October? I guess I’ll have to make my own holiday spirit. I wonder how long before Husband flushes all my Christmas albums down the toilet?

Liz Medwid is the only one in her neighborhood wearing a toque in July. Learn more at Three Bright Stars.

voices to hear #7

Written by John from Altjiranga Mitjina

This week’s voice to hear is a departure from what we’ve done so far. Instead of a single voice, we’re going to talk about a group. The group is called Marah and they hail from Philadelphia. Basically the group is two brothers, Dave and Serge Bielanko and whoever else they let in. Over the years they have had quite a few players come and go in the band, while they remained the constant. They’ve recorded six albums and one of them was a Christmas album.

On their MySpace page they call their music “technicolor folk-punk-rock” and I think that’s about a good definition of it as I could come up. How many rock bands use a banjo?

Besides making great music the band also comes up some of the best song and album titles ever. Their first album was called Let’s Cut the Crap and Hook Up Later On Tonight. Their most recent album is called If You Didn’t Laugh, You’d Cry. One of their early songs was titled “The History of Where Someone Was Killed.”

Early in their career Marah was labeled in with the alt-country crowd and it wasn’t exactly a place they wanted to find themselves in. The presences of the banjo made people think they had to be alt-country. Which they weren’t. What they are is rock n roll, or as they put it “Technicolor folk-punk-rock.”

Marah has self produced five of their six releases. They’ve worked with artists like Steve Earle and Bruce Springsteen. Stephen King called If You Didn’t Laugh, You’d Cry the best album of the year upon its release.

Marah has also given me one of the most fun concerts I have ever been to. Last year they performed at the Parish Room at the House of Blues. This is the upstairs smaller room, for artists that can’t open in the main room of the HOB. I don’t think there were more than 100 people, and if there were that many I’m being generous, there that night. But it didn’t stop the group from putting on a great show.

Towards the end of the show Dave jumped down from the stage onto the floor. He called all the people in the audience to him and had us all sit on the floor around him as he talked and sang. It was one of the most unique concert experiences I have ever had.

I’ve always read about groups like R.E.M. and the Police that started out playing clubs they said with fifty people in the audience. I always thought that would be really cool to see a concert like that, for someone that later became big and you can say I saw them when. I really feel like I had that experience with Marah.

Marah is a band filled with excitement and that excitement translates onto the album and in concert. They sing about people trying to live their lives with all the problems that come with that; money and faith and love and the occasional beer and party in there. This is a band to watch out for.

If you're reading this it can only mean one thing, that John from altjiranga mitjina has once again forgotten to provide a blurb after whatever it is he wrote for this issue. All he can say is that a mind is a terrible thing to waste. He'd write more but he'd just forget whatever it was he wrote.

Blog review: Four by 40

The blog: Four by 40
The reviewer: Meg from Simply Nutmeg

We took our clan to see Disney Pixar's Ratatouille this week, and I was particularly drawn to the character of the critic. Interestingly enough, he was named Ego. When you are a blogger, it's hard to review bloggers without allowing a little ego to get in the way. This week it was particularly difficult, as I'm reviewing Carla at Four by 40, a forty something woman with four kids who loves a boy named Nathan. Ringing any bells? You might say she had me at hello.

First Impressions: The very first thing that caught my attention as I scrolled down the landing page was that the author writes short posts. I'm a big fan of short posts with punch and strive for them myself. Thomas Jefferson said brilliantly, "The most valuable of all talents is that of never using two words where one will do." Jefferson would have liked Carla, as she cuts right to the chase.

Design: The second thing that caught my attention about the site was that the theme was broken. The blog is basically a three column design with left and right sidebars, but the right sidebar does not appear until you page way down. When you click on Older Posts, the problem is corrected. My advice here is to check the right sidebar code for a missing or broken pathway. Cut and paste the present code into notepad before messing around with it though!

Glitch aside, the design did not stop me in my tracks. For a family blog I found the design somewhat cool and impersonal. The sidebars were very busy, but I rarely focus on sidebars when I read blogs and am used to tuning out the clutter. The content, nonetheless, was extremely accessible and clean.

At the top of the left sidebar is a section called "Check it Out" where Carla kindly has included links to posts from other blogs. I spent quite a bit of time exploring her list and will say, when choosing fine writing, Carla is spot-on.

Posting frequency: Carla deserves a blue ribbon here, as she posts just about every day and sometimes twice a day. She has written over 600 posts, and surely such dedication is appreciated by her readership.

Content: Carla clearly has a good sense of humor. Although sometimes the writing is awkward, most posts are succinctly written and have a fun, humorous slant, like OK Then and You Know What "They" Say. I did not find a great deal of variety or deep insight in the content. Carla has carved out her niche and sticks fairly close to it: cute, endearing, tidbits of her life with her children. Considering one of the highest viewed blogs in the blogosphere is a site devoted to cute pictures of kittens and puppies, Carla may very well have a brilliant thing going here.

My biggest complaint with this blog is that it is desperately in need of images. Aside from a few pictures of inanimate objects and one somewhat disturbing picture of Carla (I can do that with my neck too!), there are very few images or photos. I totally respect the choice to keep pictures of one's children off the internet, but I'm not sure that is why the pictures are missing because I did see Nathan and Timmers on a bike! I, for one, would love to see more pictures of the Streams in action. It would add the warmth of human touch that I found missing in the design.

Best and Worst:
Best - What I liked best about this blog was Carla's outlook on life which is evident as you read through her archives. Life is sweet at the Stream's and Carla is clearly a warm and giving mother. We have a great deal in common (did I just try to say I'm warm and giving?) and would most likely be fast friends if we lived in the same town.

Worst - I want to see those chillers! I also could do without words like 'chillers.'

Bloggroll-worthy? Would I return to this blog? How could I not when we have so much in common? I also like to visit blogs that I know are updated frequently. It's the most important thing a blogger can do to be successful, aside from writing well. I'm also drawn to short posts. Sometimes I click on a blog in my blogroll, see that I will need to page down, and down, and down, and click right off. I would return to Four by 40 knowing full well I could squeeze in the read.

Rating Out of Ten:

I think Carla has accomplished what she sets out to do in her tag line - to bring a smile on your face by sharing brief anecdotes of a mother in the trenches. The blog may have its greatest appeal to family and friends of the Streams, but it also appealed to this forty-something mother of four who found much to be familiar in Carla's quips, quotes, and vignettes.

He Didn't Have to Be

Written by Sara from Suburban Oblivion

The man in the picture is my husband, on our wedding day.

The golden-haired child in his arms is our daughter.

She is a self-proclaimed daddy’s girl, and always has been.

They enjoy playing games together, going for rides in his car, and whispering secrets I pretend not to hear.

They share a bond I sometimes envy, and their ease together is so amazing and natural.

You’d never know he wasn’t there, not during her conception, or for her delivery. She was the child of a previous relationship.

He didn’t come into her life until she was 6 weeks old, but has been there ever since.

We got married when she was 3, and he filed to adopt her immediately afterwards.

There are good daddies and bad daddies, but she got a different kind when he came along.

He is the most special kind of daddy- the kind who didn’t have to be.