Double Wind

Stan writes:

Yes the cat is away, that being MP, and I am doing a lot of playing……kind of.  I am playing lots of music and recording a lot. MP went to France this past week to be with her parents and I have the house to myself. 

With the help of technology she still was able to get her blog in and us being able to keep our streak going.  I love that about us, both dedicated to sharing our lives and the gifts we get from it are amazing.

This week has been a nice break for both of us. MP is getting great time with her parents in France and I am getting some real good quality music and connection time.  I have had my buddies over and still have a lot of recording to do this week. Not that I can’t record when MP is here, I just don’t have to worry about volume or when to quit or things like that.  With the aid of technology, and her I phone, we get to talk at least twice a day and there are many texts sent back and forth.  That has been wonderful

One thing I realize is what a great decision I made to move in with MP.  Even when we are worlds apart we connect regularly and often.  The house is not the same without her and even though I am really digging my recording freedom, she always makes room for my music and I for her art…..I love that.

I am ready to stop juicing and cooking for one and getting some good connection time in with MP.  Until she gets back though……let the music roll.

Marie-Pierre writes:

I am writing these lines on my mother’s tablet in the gardens of the castle of Chenonceaux.  We’ve rented a cottage nearby and are playing toutists for a few days after visiting my brother in the eastern town of Nancy.  There is no internet at the cottage which is tucked in the chalk cliff of the Vouvray wine region but there are lots of roosters to tell us the time of day.  I can call Stan on my i phone as long as I stick my arm out of the second floor window.  

I have spoken little english in five days and i am having a great time with my parents.  This is our vey first trip together, not the usual family visit.  Very relaxed.

My apologies for the very short update.  Off we must go to the castle, the gardens and the wax museum.  And lunch!  With wine of course! A bientot.

Stan writes:

If you have been in our house, you would see quickly that two creative people live there.  Most of the art work we have is done by MP and if it was up to me, we would hang more of her work.  She also has her art studio in the back and upstairs.  Creativity is an important part of our lives.

My man cave is all about music and connection….my two favorite things.  On the weekends we both get to do a lot of our creative work together……and separately.   These are some of my favorite weekends.  After our morning exercise, we get some coffee and we give each other a hug and off we go to our respective parts of the house to work on our art/music.  MP has learned that if the music bothers her, she puts on her headphones and either watches a movie or listens to music while she does her art.  I could never do that, but it works great for her and keeps her very focused.

Periodically we both get crossed eyed from working and we go take a break to reconnect.  Those are also some of my favorite Stan and MP times.  Also every now and then when one of has a break through or something we want to show off, we run up (or downstairs) and get each other to come check it out, that is pretty cool too.

Overall the creative process is a HUGE part of our relationship and one we both get so much joy out of.  We also do our creative work during the week in the evenings or with me, since I have more flexibility in my schedule, during the days, yet it’s not the same without both of us working away.  Who do I go run to when I have just had a major breakthrough on a song, or I just found the perfect drumbeat, or I just came up with the most awesome lyrics……not MP. 

So I cherish the times we have together and I love knowing she is there, even though we are both doing our thing……looks like this may be going on for a long time….good.

Marie-Pierre writes:

We’ve settled into a creative routine : Stan composes music in his downstairs “man-cave” while I write and draw in my upstairs studio. When the drum beat gets a little too loud, I plug my earphones into my iPad and work while listening to Netflix movies.  Stan keeps his door tightly closed, partly to prevent noise, partly to prevent me from disturbing his recording.

Creativity requires space.  We’ve found our nooks and rhythms.

Every hour or so, one of us will wander to the kitchen for a snack.  The other follows.  Every breakthrough is celebrated with a visit to the other’s studio or to the porch.  Every frustration gets lamented in the same way.  When things get really tough, we get in the car and head to Memorial Park for a long walk.

Perhaps it helps that Stan is not a visual artist and that I do not understand much about music.  There is neither competition nor critique between us but the camaraderie of two people who try to express their creativity and are finding ways to do so in peace and harmony.

We worked till almost midnight last Sunday, woke up wanting yet another glorious day spent doing what we like.   My shelves are filling up with drawings.  Stan is writing songs.  It’s working.

Marie-Pierre writes:

A year and a half after moving into our house, I finally tackled my office space. First Isabel and I spent an afternoon moving the furniture around. It was no small task. It takes two people to barely move my butcher-block desk off the floor. My shelves are so filled with books, they have to be completely emptied every time we move.

Isabel has an inspired sense of space and after much debate – and much sweating – we determined that the very large and very open upstairs room needed to be divided into three sections: Stan’s bedroom, my office corner, and the “hangout” room with the two couches from my former life.
On Saturday, Isabel and I headed to IKEA to purchase divider shelves. Thank God for my strong daughter being able to single-handedly load all of our purchase into the car. And thank God for her fine IKEA assembling skills. By dinner time the shelves were almost assembled, by early evening I had a new office space.
I am getting used to the new furniture and the feel of the new enclosed spaces around me. I haven’t filled the shelves yet, partially in deference to Stan’s dislike of clutter, partially because I am enjoying the emptiness. But I did re-use some of the white packaging to make an impromptu pin-board that looks better than anything I could have bought.

Last night, Stan, Isabel and I spent time hanging out and chatting in the new space. It worked.

Stan writes:

So MP has been thinking about how she wanted to arrange her space upstairs for a while now and all it took was Isabel (her daughter) coming into town and one trip to Ikea to finally put the plans into action.  I think she just needed some creative nurturing.

So I get the call as they are coming back from Ikea for us to be home because they need to unload some boxes.  I turn around and we all pitch in to move boxes upstairs and unleash MP and Isabel on their project.  Cube shelving was becoming a reality and MP’s space upstairs was making a metamorphisis.

When I came up I could tell MP was a little nervous and wanted to know if I liked what she got and did I have any feedback.  I told her, do what makes you happy.  A few hours later the shelves were assembled and we all thought they looked a lot bigger on the floor than what they had imagined.  Although once they were stood up, they worked great.

Change is funny and how we react to it is even funnier.  The first day MP was grumbling that she really wasn’t sure she like her desk against the window and these shelves really stood out, etc, etc, etc.  By the second day they were growing on her.  Now they fit in and are starting to redefine her space.

Sometimes we all need some encouragement and some nurturing and some help to get what we want….this time it was MP’s turn to receive.  Change can be wonderful.

Marie-Pierre writes:

No matter the occasional differences of opinion, when push comes to shove we know how to team up like pros.  Stan is the one who’s full of energy.  I am the planner and organizer.  So far, we’ve handled leaks, car troubles, hurricanes, rogue smoke alarms, broken appliances and bug invasions.  Interestingly enough, Stan always seems to be the one who notices that things are going wrong.  I don’t smell smoke until it has filled the room. I don’t notice water until it’s up to my knees.  On the flip side, this lack of awareness translates into a lack of panic.  
Last Sunday was a typical example. 
I had been so enthralled by the mysterious pretty sound of raindrops in the house that I completely missed they were coming from three huge leaks in the living room windows.  I went upstairs for nap.  Stan went downstairs to his office and immediately started to shout what seemed unreasonable orders for me to come down from the bedroom right away (on a Sunday? At naptime?  Was he joking?)
By the time I arrived, he was running around dropping towels on the floor.  Too many towels.  And way too much running around.  We needed to place buckets at strategic points.  We needed smaller towels that could be wrung efficiently.  And we needed to prop a corner of the rug off the floor and send Stan out in the rain to probe for the source of our trouble. 

In the end, we both got out barefoot in the rain and determined that the gutter needed adjustments.  Stan got on the phone to schedule repairs.  I made us a snack.  Good work.

Stan writes:

MP and I are a great team.  We continually prove that to ourselves over and over.  This past weekend we had a leak in our house along the back wall where we had done some gutter adjustment.  Unfortunately the adjustment didn’t work and it channeled the water into the house via over the windows.  It’s a long story, yet suffice to say when I came downstairs after the big rain on Sunday, we had some water in the house issues.

Fortunately our walls are wood and the floors are tile so the damage was more to a rug and everything else was fine yet the sight of water pouring in our window onto the floor got my attention.  The first thing I did was call up to MP and she kept saying “What?” and I told her to come downstairs our house was flooding, that got her down there.  Once we saw what was going on is when our teamwork kicked into gear. 

We had trash cans out, I got the towels and moved the couch.  We stopped panicking and just got it done.  Before long and after emptying a big garbage can full of water, we had the situation under control.  I called my handyman buddy and we talked about what happened and why.  I got all the dirty towels washed and MP rearranged the furniture and put towels and smaller trash cans under the window in case of more rain.

Fortunately there was no more rain, and we went back to what we were doing before hand.  One more adventure for the MP/SC team…..we ruled…..and although I am not looking forward to more leaks…..I am ready for our next adventure.

Marie-Pierre writes:

Last Saturday, I temporarily let go of my vegan ways to invite Stan to his belated birthday dinner at Laurenzo’s on Washington street.  I had passed the restaurant many times but had never felt particularly compelled to try it until I overheard a good review from the woman next to me at the hairdresser.  She was raving about the phenomenal shrimp and grits and the even more phenomenal cocktails.  It sounded like a sure shot for my beloved carnivore.

Stan was thrilled. The place reminded him of the defunct Houston restaurant: wooden booth, lots of brass, great big slabs of meat, perfect service.  The drinks were so yummy we considered hiring the female bartender for our personal use.  The spinach dip was sinful, Stan’s prime rib as rare as the law would allow (or perhaps even illegal) and my tuna steak lip-licking.  We took home an oversize piece of Italian cream cake that we shared over a movie.  We hadn’t let ourselves eat that much in a very long time.

We promised we would do it again.  I think we will although our bodies haven’t seemed to entirely agree with that grand plan.  It was the cake, we think, too much sugar before going to sleep. 
Oh but we’ll do it again.  Of course we will.  Life is too short not to stray.

Stan writes:

One of the traditions we have is that on our birthday, we take the other one out for dinner.  This was my turn and MP wanted to surprise me.  She had heard about a restaurant at her hair salon and thought it would be right up my alley.

It took us a few weeks to get it on the schedule, and last Saturday night was our night.  We went to Laurenzos on Washington.  I have driven by there many times but because they are known for steaks and prime ribs, it is not a destination location for my vegan girlfriend.  Since it was my birthday and I am not vegan, this seemed like a great choice.

It turns out that the owner modeled it after the original Houston’s Restaurant before they were purchased and changed their menu.  I used to go to Houston’s all the time and loved their prime rib.  Well, guess what I got for dinner……you got it…prime rib and it was delicious.  We really had a great time.  Neither one of us are drinkers really, but we had a couple that night and it was fun.  The atmosphere is definitely male/sports, dark wood, and lots of TVs…yet in a very classy way. 

I thought MP was quite the trooper to take me there and have fun.  It was a great choice and one that I really appreciated on my birthday.  With a vegan/vegetarian girlfriend, I don’t eat the meat I used to (which is good) and sometimes I get the yearning.  This was a really nice evening and she was able to get enough food so she could enjoy her meal.  A great night had by all…….her birthday is next.

Marie-Pierre writes:

All we need is flowers, lots of them, preferrably bright pink or yellow but definitely wispy.  A few blue pompoms would be nice.  Shrubs don’t interest me, neither do grasses.  Stan is the shrub guy, tree guy, dirt guy and general yard guy.  Me, I just want to show up and smell the jasmine.  How things grow or water themselves does not interest me.  Nature does its job.  Some things survive the frost and drought, others don’t, no big deal.
 
I used to mow my lawn and rake the leaves into piles for the wind to blow away, but I don’t even do that any more.  My excuse is that Stan has replaced all my electric lawn equipment with bad-smelling gas-powered things.  Closer to the truth is that I have never been a gardener.  
 
Instead, I follow Stan to Lowe’s once a year to pick flowers and then I go back home and wait for my instant, pain-free garden to pop up. 
 
Stan’s style of gardening is a testosterone-infused frenzy from which he emerges covered in dirt and specks of grass and…happy.  He digs, plants, cuts, trims and mows from one end of the yard to the other.  He rolls and unrolls garden hoses and calculates the exact angle of the sprinklers.  He lines bags upon bags of dead leaves while I take naps and read.  I feel guilty about this.  Sometimes I even make a vague statement about wanting to go back to taking care of the garden (seriously?)
 
The place is looking terrific.  A family of redbreasts has just moved in and some big yellow floweres are dangling from one of the trees.  Stan said we’ll go pick an orange tree to plant next week.  He sais I could pick more flowers too.  I think we need them white and wispy.

Stan writes:

Once a year comes the big yard clean up.  The leaves have fallen, all that looks dead is about to sprout and another spring is on its way.  This is the time I have learned to get some help.  I used to do this all by myself and I no longer want to.

I love to work in the yard and I love to sink my hands into the earth regularly. For an air sign like me, getting grounded is helpful in more ways than one.  I love to keep everything going, I just don’t like the long hard physical days in the yard anymore.  I have learned to take care of myself.

Now MP and I go out every spring and pick some new plants and flowers to put in our yard.  Last year we went all out and got what I thought was a specialist (horticulturist) but that was a bust for a couple of reasons.  I don’t think he was all that he said he was and the drought played havoc on what we did by.  Consequently, only a few plants made it from last year and I took care of them.  In fact all of the plants MP picked out made it……lesson learned……trust ourselves and as MP says…..listen to your girlfriend.

So this year we did our cleaning and hauled off a trailer load of old limbs, grass, leaves, and other assorted dead plants and trimmings.  We are ready for the spring and we got our first load of plants.  MP really wanted the yellow flowers and I didn’t really want them……..she got them anyway with some grumping and as I have learned……listen to my girlfriend…..we put them by the front door and they look great.  MP is great with colors and sees great patterns…….I am pretty much your functional gardener.   I like it hardy and sturdy……she likes color…….I guess that is why we do well together.  Bring on the spring.

Marie-Pierre writes:

Disbelief, anger, bargaining, despair: what will I do without “Downton Abbey”?  The second season was so outrageously short and satisfying.  I am at a complete loss.

Stan sent me an article suggesting lesser Edwardian TV drama – definitely not quite enough to bridge the gap all the way to next year.  Next Year!  Can you believe it?  To think that I and millions of others will have to slug through 12 romance-free months before we can find out if Lady Mary is truly going to wed Matthew Crawley; I can just feel my belly growing an anxious knot over this.  And what if the British producers won’t even film a third season?  I will never know what Sybil’s child looks like or if the mean third sister will marry her older beau.  Rats.

I was so distressed that when a friend texted me to say she was looking forward to seeing Lady Mary’s wedding dress, I lashed back with a comment about how the crash of 1929 was just about to round the corner and all the pretty people were going to have to get a job.  So ten-percent of me! I didn’t mean it.  Or if I did, it was only because I could see the dramatic potential of yet another disaster, especially after that last bout of Spanish flu conveniently trimmed a handful of superfluous cast members.

No, no, there is no point in speculating.  Wait we must, until next year or until one of my children calls or texts to inform me of the latest and juiciest TV series.  Till then, it’s Netflix and reruns.

Stan writes:

Last year we wrote about The Tudors and how utterly addicting that TV series had become.  This year the show that seems to be capturing everyone’s Sunday night is Downton Abbey.  The only difference is that somehow I did not get connected with the show this year.  MP started watching this in conjunction with her daughter Isabel and she was well into the series before I ever knew it.

So on Sunday nights, MP watches her Downton Abbey and is not to be disturbed.  That doesn’t stop the coyote in me about mid show.  I have found that MP is there for me always EXCEPT during Downton Abbey.  I get the sense the house could burn down and she would never know until the fire cut the TV show.

She has so much joy and Sundays are usually a great night for basketball this time of year so I can catch some good basketball while she is enthralled in the drama.  Being in Human Resources for most of her adult working life, she has no shortage of drama.  She deals with people and people do drama…plain and simple.  What is interesting is how sometimes she can’t stand drama and other times (like when Downton Abbey comes on) she is hooked.

So yesterday I sent Isabel and MP an article on “What to do now that Downton Abbey is finished.”  I didn’t read the article but you can be sure that pretty soon there will be another historical drama series, probably around English aristocrat life and maybe I will clip in this time……I have to admit it……dramas are addicting…….oh well, there are plenty of dramas in what I do, so truth or fiction…..the choices keep coming.