Author: Tamarah Rockwood

Wife of Ben, mother of 5, laundry denier, writer, reader, hermit and lover of learning, hater of tupperware parties.

An Ode To The Busted Piano

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman, UncategorizedLeave a comment

IMG_0285Goodbye, old friend.

An Ode To The Busted Piano

by me

There was a time when play, song, and sound,

The piano, and every ordinary sight

To me did seem

Threaded in angelic light.

To the fragrance of dust in a dream,

It is not now as it had been before

when I was a child

Plunking on the keys in cream,

Sit upon the silent musician

as dust to dust.

(completely ripped off from Wordsworth)

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These are the wheel marks from the busted piano.

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And this was the place in which the busted piano had sat for the past 7 years.

I am sitting at my desk right now, and I have watched a few women taking their morning walks…and play the piano a little as they pass by.  All the kids had to play a few keys when they discovered it was outside, almost as if to poke it to see if it was actually dead.

To say we have all loved this piano is true.

I grew up playing imaginary songs on this piano, and my kids have done the same.  We have done a few lessons on it, but it was so out of tune, the songs don’t sound right at all.

There is something magical about a piano.  Even if it is busted.

Unfortunately, we were unable to rehome this piano.

I have spent 4 months calling music stores, putting it on Craigslist, posting ads in the classifieds in our local newspaper, offering it on Facebook and to homeschooling groups.  A few families have come over to look at it, but there are some sticky keys and the pedals don’t work.  My last effort was to contact the local music store and see what advice they had for me.

They said it was just a dead piano, and it was time to put it out to pasture.

It was a normal thing, and there was nothing we could do to save it.  Dead pianos get thrown away all the time, and it was okay to let it go.  We loved it for as long as we had it, and it lived a good long life.

It was my grandmother’s piano, and it lived in my grandparent’s house.  As far as I understand, it came down from Saskatchuan, Canada with them when they immigrated to LosAngeles.  There it sat, and I believe my grandmother played hymns on it when she was a Sunday School teacher at her Presbyterian church.  I, however, have never seen anyone actually play songs on it.

After my grandparents died, I was already living on my own, and I took the family piano.

Since then, it has gone everywhere I have gone.

But now that we are moving out of state, it is time to let my good friend go.

We have had good times together, and she has held books, picture frames and toys valiantly during her time with us.

So, with the fondest of memories, we set her out this morning to her resting place, graced with the angelic gift of silence.

And I can speak of this with lucid emotion…until this happened.

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And then I completely lost it and started bawling on my front porch.

Even when you have tried every avenue possible, and have tried to resurrect its life … watching a good friend go is still a heart wrenching thing to witness.

But she was worth every year we had her.

Goodbye, Ozymandius.

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

“If everyone is moving forward together, then success takes care of itself.”

-Henry Ford

 

I revel in the simplicity of this statement.

We are, indeed, moving forward together…and thus, our success is taking care of itself.

There is an unearthly calm over me these days, which doesn’t make any sense.  We have already scheduled when we are loading a truck, and what day we are driving out of state to our new home; and those days are creeping closer and closer, which is a perfect time for panic to start setting in.

I’ll be honest: the panic just isn’t showing up.  I just want to get to our new home.  I have grapes to plant, and astronomical groups to visit, and fishing holes to tour, and forests to explore.  And the date when I can do these things is just within reach…

 

The funny thing is, life hasn’t stopped moving.

 

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It is funny how life continues on, as if nothing is different or changing.  The chickens got through their winter molt, and are in full force with egg laying.  This makes me happy.  I have let them have full range of the yard, and the three of them are finding every errant bug in the gardens.

 

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The daffodils have begun to bloom, which I love completely.  They have such a bold presence in the garden, and it is actually difficult to take a clear picture of the flower because the yellows are so crazy bright, the camera can’t capture the shadows inside the bell.  Daffodils are certainly a friendly companion with whom to finish winter.

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I am ditching quite a few large pieces of furniture before we go, which is going to make moving significantly easier.  Both the kids’ dressers, the crib and this old blue IKEA chair are going to another family who conveniently needed some hand-me-down furniture.  It has been time to upgrade some things in the kids’ rooms for quite a while already, and this will be the perfect opportunity to get bigger dressers…and the boys will get bunk beds.  The boys are rejoicing, as we speak.

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I have also begun the unearthly task of clearing out my desk.  To say that it has been “too long” does not do justice to the insanity I am discovering.  Fabric, old clothes, rogue paintbrushes,  old school projects, and an endless array of books…and I am not taking anything that cannot stand on its own.  The amount of books I have hidden behind my chair is ghastly, and I am curious to find out how much worth they will have once I hover them over the box…

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Which brings us to the Library.

It is surprising to find out, now that I have begun an earnest packing of our home, how much we actually don’t have.  Without going through anything, we thought we had “a ton of stuff.”  It turns out we have “a ton of books,” and furniture on which to sit whilst reading the books, and shelves onto which the books wait to be found.  I am trying to get rid of as many books as I can, since we have simply outgrown them.  Baby books, early mothering books, infant nutrition books, (useless) books on discipline and sundry books we don’t need anymore.  My Free Little Library floweth over, at this point.

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Which leads us to the bookshelves, which are mere skeletons after I have stripped them of all their meat.  Lo, the great Library of Rockwood has been sorted, dusted and packed into little boxes, and set aside.  What we have left on these mighty shelves are church bulletins, W.I.R.E.D. magazines, Sun Microsystem binders and books I need to actually return to friends.

 

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The Box of boxes stands as Ozymandius, looming over his kingdom of taped and labeled boxes:

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“And on the pedestal these words appear:
‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!’
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

Goodbye, Ozymandius.  Our journey is to kingdoms that can only be found at the end of roads that stretch far away.

Electric Boogaloo: Top 5 Songs For My Packing Playlist

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

1. Salt n Pepa: Push It (…Into The Dumpster)

 

2. Run DMC: Walk This Way (…To The UHaul Truck)

 

3. Twisted Sister: We’re Not Gonna Take It (…With Us To Seattle)

 

4. Ratt: Round and Round (…With Deciding What Goes In The Trash)

For the record, it is mostly just me fighting with myself on this issue.

 

5. Quiet Riot: Bang Your Head (…Thinking About Packing The Library. And Toys. And The Garage…)

Things You Probably Should Hear, At Least Once

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman, UncategorizedLeave a comment

“Is it a hill worth dying on?”

I actually ask myself that frequently. A Pastor told me this once, and it is something that has stuck with me for the long haul.   Back in the day when I was younger, I tried to fight every fight.  I had this silly idea for years, and I had the passion and energy to do it. I thought I could make a difference by upholding the honor of the fight.  Fighting for the little people, fighting for myself, fighting for the principle of something…it was worth it for the greater good, was it not?

It really wasn’t.  And I think the only change that I really made was in myself.

The Pastor told me that my passion was good…but I “can’t die on every hill.”

And that is enormously true.

 

In life, there is an endless volley of trials.  Although some days the Nerf-trials are easy to deflect, and they just bounce right off and you walk away unharmed, some days seem to have more spiky trials thrown at us than others; and they stick to you.  If not stick in you.  Those trials you can’t walk away from easily.

 

“If you want others to be happy, practice compassion. If you want to be happy, practice compassion. “ Dalai Lama

 

The best solution to outrage is fighting it with compassion.

I have never seen one hill that could not be conquered with anything other than compassion.

Further, compassion is certainly not something you can understand by reading a pamphlet or a tract.  It is something you learn how to do over time, through both observations and experiences.

Practicing compassion is certainly something everyone should hear about at least once, just to get the ball rolling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tuesday’s Recipe: 20 Shades of Quinoa

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn Gluten Free & Health, UncategorizedLeave a comment

 With 50 Shades of Gray coming up this weekend, I thought I’d add my $.02 in on torture:

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Quinoa can definitely be an instrument of torture.  If you have had a lump of quinoa served to you at any time, you understand that it can be soggy, mushy, gray, weird, bland and grainy.  There ain’t nothin’ good about poorly served quinoa.

 

If you insist on treating it like rice, you will have a bad time.

 

However…if you treat it as a blank canvas of foods, you will see the wide spectrum of possibilities quinoa has!  Stop forcing it into little bento boxes of conformity.  Start cooking quinoa with the respect it deserves: especially with smoked gouda and roasted tomatoes. (omg)

So this weekend, surprise your loved ones by blindfolding them, tying them to a chair and serving them actually good dishes of quinoa!

 

“Quinoa (prounounced keen-wa) (link) was a staple food for the South American Indians living in the high altitudes of the Andes Mountains. It was immensely popular because it was one of few crops that could survive in such high altitudes (10,000 – 20,000 feet above sea level). It could withstand frost, intense sun and the often dry conditions that characterized the Andean climate. It was also recognized for its superior nutritional qualities. For these reasons, it was dubbed “mother of all grains” by the Incas, so much so that it came to have spiritual significance for them. Many traditions and ceremonies surrounded the cultivation, harvest and consumption of quinoa.

Quinoa is a “pseudo-grain”—actually a gluten-free seed, but used in cooking like a whole grain. This nutrient-rich grain is a wonderful source of complete protein, providing all of the essential amino acids. It is also a good source of dietary fiber. Naturally gluten free, this powerful little grain is a great addition to any diet, but is an ideal solution for those following a gluten free, vegan or vegetarian diet that are looking to increase their protein and fiber.”

 

It is like rice, but it isn’t rice.

 

To begin, here is the easy how-to on quinoa cooking:

  • 1 cup quinoa
  • 2 cups water in a medium saucepan.
  • Bring it to a boil, then put a lid on top and turn the heat to low
  • simmer until quinoa is tender  (this will take about 15 minutes)
  • Listen: quinoa retains water like crazy, so make sure you drain it completely after it is done

 

Now that you have quinoa, here are 20 ideas of what to do with quinoa!

  1. Quinoa in taco meat
  2. Quinoa in salads
  3. Quinoa with stewed tomatoes, parsley and gouda
  4. Quinoa with baked garlic and stewed tomatoes
  5. Quinoa with steamed carrots, peas paprika and cilantro
  6. Quinoa with salsa and chicken
  7. Quinoa with garlic/paprika seasoned roasted corn
  8. Quinoa with roasted garlic eggplant and tomato slices, with melted pepper jack cheese
  9. Quinoa burgers (just add an egg, herbs/spices and some parm. cheese, form them into patties and fry them in oil.)
  10. Add Quinoa to soup instead of beans, lentils, rice or noodles
  11. Add Quinoa to stews for extra protein
  12. Quinoa salad – quinoa, corn, tomatoes, avocado, green onions
  13. Black beans, Quinoa, corn, tomatoes, cilantro
  14. Stewed lentils, Quinoa, stewed tomatoes, cumin
  15. Quinoa pudding (like rice pudding)
  16. Quinoa with steamed garlic broccoli and hollandaise sauce
  17. Quinoa stuffed acorn squash with sausage
  18. Quinoa bake: have a layer of quinoa on a casserole dish, layer citrus and honey chicken (or fish!) on top and bake
  19. Quinoa stuffed bell pepper with carnitas
  20. Quinoa mixed into a curry

Things Only Stressed Out Women Dream Of: Last Night, I Dreamt of Godzilla.

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn UncategorizedLeave a comment

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Indeed, I did dream of Godzilla last night.

At first, I saw him coming up out of the ocean.  His body was so huge, his bulk actually moved the water up and across the land, flooding the shores and nearby streets.  I watched him stride up and down the coast, planning his devastation on the little coastal town, staring down buildings and eyeballing structures.  His Godzilla screams were deafening, and the little people ran everywhere, trying to find a secure hiding place.

And then, suddenly, I was inside Godzilla and watched through his eyes the destruction of buildings with sonic screams.

It was crazy.  I didn’t fall back to sleep after that dream for quite a while…

“A Godzilla dream is an indication that you are feeling that some part of your life has spiraled out of control. The situation you are struggling with in your life is winning out. It is getting the best of you and is begging to be taken care of. You need to analyze the situation and find the best solution for your problems. Then tackle it bit by bit. The out of control giant monster can be defeated little by little. By analyzing the Godzilla dream, you may even be able to find symbols of things that will help you overcome this out-of-control feeling.”

Did I mention I just began to pack the kitchen last night?

Good heavens.  How many rusted cookie cutters do I need to throw out?  …many.  A broken popcorn maker I got the kids for Christmas a few years ago?  Why on earth do we still have this.  The busted Magic Bullet. The Magic Bullet cups I never use. 6 old vases, do I see 7?  They are all sitting outside by the trash can, as of last night.  I have 2 cupboards finished.  I have 2 more cupboards of similar natures, as well as 2 junk drawers stuffed to the gills with kite string, rubber cement jars, old bottles, sandpaper and who knows what else we have forgotten about.  All things that we are not taking with us, that’s for sure.

So, I might be a little more anxious than usual; which is understandable.  Ben suggested I take the kids to the park today, which is a good idea. We finally have a sunny day, and I think we all need a good, solid Vitamin D fix.

The thing, though, is that I don’t think I feel stressed.  We still have a few weeks to pack, and everything is coming along at a nice, even pace.  Today is a normal Monday, tomorrow will be a normal Tuesday.  Yet, Godzilla dreams might be a sign that my auto-repress function is working at full speed.

So, I’m going to stop being anxious and resume being awesome.

Got on the treadmill this morning, I’m showered and dressed….with shoes…and back in business.

Auto-Awesome: Engaged

No! Not The Rocking Chair!!

On By Tamarah RockwoodIn As A Woman, Redefining Motherhood, UncategorizedLeave a comment

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This is my beautiful rocking chair.

This was the first thing I brought into my nest when I first became pregnant, over 11 years ago.

Before the crib, before the bassinet, before we even bought any swaddling blankets…there was the rocking chair.  I remember going to a huge warehouse filled to the brim with cribs and changing tables,  and a little corner in the back filled with a variety of rocking chairs.  I found one that I knew I would love forever.  With beautiful cream embroidered upholstery, cherry wood frame and a seamless glide, this was the symbol of maternity to bring me into the realm of motherhood.

I am not sure what other women might do to usher in this new era.  Perhaps buy maternity dresses, or decorate the nursery with gentle nature scenes.

There is a multitude of customs we hold for new mothers ranging from cakes

 

to games

to announcements

(image credit)

But for me, it was the rocking chair which brought me into the sleepless land of motherhood.

You know when you are in the shower, and you daydream about your acceptance speech when you win the Oscar for Best Actress?  That was the same daydream I had about this rocking chair.  I thought I would spend the rest of my life rocking babies in this chair, and when they were grown and in college, they would come home…and see the cream and cherry wood chair that was imbedded in their childhood, and gasp.  “I remember when Mom held us in that chair,” they would say, with a little sentimental tear in the corner of their eye. “So many years were spent rocking with Mom,” they would remember so fondly.

 

Truthfully, that is what I had in mind for myself in the beginning.  Simply holding my baby, and rocking her to sleep.

There were,indeed, many years spent rocking babies in this chair.  I remember holding Glenn in the mornings, letting him wake up on my lap before breakfast.  I remember rocking Nova after she fell and scraped her knee.  I remember years of nursing in this rocking chair.

The magical land of motherhood can be so beautiful and serene…in the distant future, or in the distant past.  But in the present?

 “I have stitches in places they never mentioned in Health class.”

(image credit)

 

 

This symbol of motherhood and magical maternity, during the very present “now,”  has also been sitting isolated next to my nightstand holding laundry for quite a few years.

So, in a most inevitable moment, while Ben and I were discussing our great move, came the time when words were spoken.  Words about “not taking the rocking chair” with us when we move.  Possibly “leaving it behind“…to which my reaction was:

 

WHAATTTT????!!!

 

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Now, granted, I understand why we wouldn’t take it.

For the past year, at least, it has not been rocking me and my babies.  I haven’t spent every morning holding Glenn as he slowly wakes up, as I did when he was little.  There have been no babies to nurse for the past few years.

Instead, I have been piling clean towels and jackets upon my symbol of maternity.   So, naturally it will be considered as something we don’t “need” to take with us.

 

Perhaps, though, this is something more profound than just letting the rocking chair go.

Maybe I am having to face the reality that I am really leaving a season of motherhood behind that I have grown quite accustomed to.  The season of baby clothes and diapers, tenderly holding my babies while they fall asleep.  By now, my youngest is 3 year old and far too big to carry for long periods of time.  I have no use for swaddling blankets or diaper genies.  Gone are the days of bibs and  cribs.

(image credit)

I wonder if letting it go will help me usher in a new season of childhood.  Maybe letting the rocking chair go to another home will help me to let go of baby curls, bottles and blankets.

And yet…

I don’t know if any mother is truly ready to let their babies go, in the end.  When the young man signs up for the Marines and is flecked in uniforms and boots, I don’t think his mother sees him as a young Marine.  She sees him as her 8 year old little boy heading off into a big world without her.  When a young woman gets into her car to drive herself off with a couple boxes of belongings to begin her career in college, I imagine her mother wonders if she remembered to pack her pink tea set, just in case she needs it in the afternoons with her friends.  There is something quite gripping about motherhood that keeps me from letting some things move on easily.

Ushering motherhood into my life was something that changed everything about me, and I just don’t know how ready I am to let some of it go.

Still, maybe I will fight to keep this rocking chair, to usher in the seasons to come of rocking my grandchildren to sleep.

We’ll see.

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