Monkeegrrl’s Blog

Last week, while the rest of the planet was finding out that LeBron James was packing his bags for Miami, I was watching So You Think You Can Dance to find out the status of an Achilles tendon. LeBron has left Northeast Ohio saddened - and angry - not just because of his decision, but the manner in which he chose to sucker-punch Akron and Cleveland (even more grievous if it’s true they began orchestrating the move in December). Meanwhile, a young dancer with tons of promise announced on national television that he had suffered a career-threatening injury. Which event do you think had me in tears?

In the end, LeBron could do what he wanted. He is one of the most-powerful athletes in the world and yet, he’s never more than 20 miles from the place he was born. He didn’t go to college. He was drafted into the pro team next door. So, this move is part of his life experience. The Cavs have had 7 years to earn a championship and it hasn’t happened - let him try with the Heat. LeBron is also someone who thrives with a team. That’s how it was at St. V’s. His team is not filled with guys like him, his friends are still his high school group. We wanted him to be loyal to the Cavs, because it seemed like our best chance at winning a sports championship. But who knows?

I think he’s going to hate living in Miami. Visiting these cities and living there are different things, and Florida has a weird vibe. It doesn’t matter, because the Cavs are moving on, with a new coach that really likes rebuilding teams and a group of motivated players. The fans are more behind the team than ever. It’s a matter of principle now - the team and the region have something to prove to the world, and that makes us all stronger. Maybe we can stop the universal self-loathing long enough to make a change and focus on the positives of Cleveland for once.

As far as the dancer’s future goes, Alex Wong will have surgery to repair his ruptured Achilles on Tuesday. If all goes well, he can dance again in three months. He is not a multimillionaire and even if he won SYTYCD (which he was likely to do), a dancer’s future is always iffy. The jobs are few and far between and they have a shelf-life that’s even shorter than that of athletes. The good news (something that makes his early exit harder on viewers) is that his dances so far were fantastic and he showed talent, heart and a great personality - so hopefully he will take up where he left off once he has healed.

Life is filled with tough decisions and all we can do is our best. Someday, I hope LeBron apologizes for The Decision, even if he never plays for the Cavs again. The team will go on and so will we. And, think about Alex on Tuesday. I want to see him dance again (and often).

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I saw a film last night (oh, boy) at the 34 Cleveland International Film Festival called “Do it Again.” It was a documentary about one man’s quest to reunite The Kinks. The guy in question, Geoff Edgars, is a writer for the Boston Globe, and there’s all sorts of mid-life crisisy, print journalism is dead stuff mixed into the general message that the Kinks (at the least the Davies brothers) don’t really want to get back together.

And, all of that made me wish that my brother was watching the film with me. Everything I knew about the Kinks to that point I learned from Rich - that the Davies brothers hated each other and that the band would never really be functional because of it (younger readers, think Oasis). But, most of my early musical knowledge came from Rich. He (like my dad) loves music - a passion that I have come to see as particularly male. Most guys I know (keeping in mind that I work in radio) are obsessed with musicians and playing music - not to mention hunting and gathering records and CDs - in a way women seldom are. I mean, I write about musicians and I listen to lots of CDs, but I don’t wrap my identity around this stuff. Even with working at Folk Alley, where I’m out at concerts and constantly talking about what we play (mostly with guys).

Going to concerts that I know my brother would enjoy without Rich often makes me feel guilty - and he lives far enough away that he can’t just pop up to Cleveland for Barenaked Ladies or John Wesley Harding. And, he’s not the only guy that I’ve had CDs signed for just to make me feel better. I’ve seen grown men become pale in the presence of their favorite artist - even our DJs (I’ll have to admit, I avoided seeing Peter Buck in his latest band when they played at the Beachland because I was afraid I would cry. And, I have avoid eye contact with Richard Shindell).

So, Rich, I’m sorry I went to “Do it Again” without you. If it comes to Louisville, see it with some of your guy friends. It’s really funny, and touching - in a super guy, non-manipulative way. And, I don’t think the Kinks are ever going to reunite. It would ruin the mystic anyway, so it’s probably just as well.

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Craft of the month for December - the bandana stuff bag

It’s been around a year since I started this blog and, while I was really good about posting at first, it really seems to have fallen on hard times as of late. The blog may in fact be a reflection on my own rather chaotic state. Let’s review, shall we?

Summer (yes, I’m going back to last June - do you remember it, because I’m a little fuzzy) started of well enough. I planted my tomatoes, mourned the loss of a lavender plant and wondered what it would be like without my precious Tracey cat, who died in May. My family came to visit over the 4th of July. And then, it all started to spiral out of control. A long list of events  - including the maiden Folk Alley RV voyage to Newport, StoryCorps in Akron, “Whad’Ya Know?” in Wooster, PRPD in Cleveland, numerous dates at arts events all over the region - kept me (and I know it wasn’t only me, but this is my blog) insanely busy from

See how good a wrapper I am?

mid-July through September - during which time I also adopted two kittens. Then bang, fall fund drive. Pow, Kent State Folk Festival. Wham, pneumonia. Slam, my boss (Bob, aka The King) is reassigned. All in the space of about six weeks.

Christmas was lovely (see pics), but I didn’t have time to finish all of my projects and I was still feeling the effects of the pneumonia (aka, “When are you going to shut up about how sick you were?”). January and February were filled not only with my usual awards madness but also trying to figure out how to do Bob’s job on top of mine and a cold, because I tempted fate by going back to the gym.

Nisha, Mundles, Rich and Av

Now, it’s March - we’re three months into 2010! The kittens are nearly full-grown cats. The tulips are coming up, the lavender is starting to green-up and I’ve put in my tomato order (again). I’m going to go out on a limb and say that it’s ok if things are a little less “exciting” for awhile. My sister-in-law has a new job in Louisville and I’ll be visiting my family as they make a new beginning in Kentucky. I have the name of a fix-it guy who might be able to fix my sagging gutter issue once and for all. And, I want to get back to my craft of the month projects with my cousin, Robin. I am seriously alright with living a little more below the radar. If someone wants to write 11 pages of copy for the station brochure that’s due Wednesday (day 7 of the spring fund drive and the day before the Cleveland International Film Fest starts), that would be swell! I’m going to take a nap.

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My daily view for 2 1/2 weeks.

This year, beginning in early August, I was running on full throttle from late summer straight through fall. There was the trip with the Folk Alley RV to Newport, Storycorps visit to Akron, PRPD in Cleveland, Whad’Ya Know? in Wooster, WKSU’s Fall Fund Drive and then the Kent State Folk Festival. Mix in a bunch of regional events, and I was just plain busy! My blog went quiet and there were no craft projects for September, October or November. Picture a candle burning at both ends with the wax in the middle slowly disappearing into the ether.

Then, the second Thursday of the Folk Festival, the candle went out and I got sick. Not just a little cold or case of the sniffles. Not even the swine flu (which would have been unpleasant enough). No, I got full-blown pneumonia - high fever for a week, coughing, bronchial spasms, trouble breathing.

I would say that everyone I know has heard this story, because the first words out of my mouth these days seem to be, “I’m a

How my kittens helped me feel better.

little behind because I had pneumonia.” It’s boring, but (as medical events go) the illness affected my daily life like a stick in the spokes of a racing bike. Everything stopped. I couldn’t work the final two days of the festival - usually my busiest time. All I did was lie on the sofa and text my co-workers who (brilliantly) took over when they had questions that only I could answer.

The doctor listened to my symptoms on the phone, but they’ve been hammered with packed waiting rooms and - since it sounded like the flu - they suggested a wait and see approach. I didn’t want to be the whiny patient, so I waited. Every day, I would wake up and think, “Maybe today my fever will break,” but by the afternoon, it would be up around 102. My iPhone became my new best friend because I could use the stopwatch when taking my temperature and check my E-mail from the couch. The first Saturday, I tried to sit up at the laptop and my fever spiked so high that I was hallucinating.

On Tuesday, I called the doctor again and I must have sounded optimistic, because we decided that I would wait until the end of the week to decide if I needed to come into the office. My days now involved a ritual of alternating Day-Quil with Tylenol and Mucinex and drinking tons of water - food was mostly a no-go. I tried steam at night (which set off riotous spasms) and a mix of night-time cold relievers - nothing let me get more than a couple of hours of sleep at a time.

To be fair, I was afraid to sleep. The fever and coughing had me worried that if I fell asleep, it might end there (this is a hazard of living alone). And I wasn’t alone. My friends were worried, colleagues were concerned and my Mother was calling people in town to see if they would go and check on me (I hooked up Skype so Mom could see that I was still alive). With Thanksgiving coming, I skipped my annual trip to Indiana when my parents decided to load up the turkey and make the journey to my house.

Mom in my tiny kitchen at Thanksgiving.

After a week of not eating or sleeping and ingesting an interesting mix of over-the-counter medications, I called my doctor’s office and begged them to see me (note: crying helps in this situation). I don’t know if it made me feel vindicated when the diagnosis proved I actually was sicker than I’d ever been (in my life - I did a survey), but at least I finally got a giant pile of antibiotics that instantly brought my fever down. The worst part was going to the drugstore and being sent home for my prescription card. At least it wasn’t snowing.

The second round of antibiotics seemed to finish things off, but I lost two weeks of my life and I’m still coughing. I’ve only been to the gym a couple of times this month. My friends are filled with dire predictions about the future of my lungs. And it was really scary being alone when I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. Looking forward, my health issues should prove good motivation for organizing my medical information in a way that other people (ie my family) know what I know if I’m not in a position to tell them.

I’ll make that a New Year’s resolution - along with promising not to start all sentences with, “Did I tell you about my pneumonia?”

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From my garden - and part of a lovely dinner.

Seriously, I can only remember about five things taking place during this summer and now hear it is fall. And, not just like the start of school, but I can see Halloween from here autumn. It’s my idea that more and more everyone is trying to cram all of their activities for the entire year into the five months between May and September. Forget about rain, it’s too difficult to ask someone to drive across town (much less the all-too-familiar drive across three counties) for anything in February. Maybe that’s why March makes everyone start to feel like they’re losing their minds. By that time, we’ve all been dealing with a long list of unknowns with the weather for so long it seems commonplace (and certainly, like it’s not going to end any time soon). How many times have even the most mundane of excursions - like to the PetSmart at Chapel Hill - become a driving nightmare involving hills (that never seem so steep in June) and piles of ice. Looking for a parking place at the gym is exponentially difficult as all of the students realize that they’ve been living on beer and Combos for months and spring break is only weeks away. Plus, any plowed up snow acquires its own parking area - bullying out any waiting vehicles.

An average haul from the farmers' market. I'll be thinking of this when I'm stuck with carrots and apples in February.

I want to be positive - and it is a little ridiculous to be crying about winter when it’s still in the 60s. But I know it’s coming. The first day of June makes me sad because I know winter is up next. The local PBS channel is already airing Christmas specials (I know they’re pledging Manheim Steamroller, it makes no difference) and everything in my yard is dead (except for that tomato I ate yesterday - although, I think it might have turned). This is not to say that I’m running off to Florida. Summer is only special for the presence of winter (the year I spent in FL was one long, monotonous bore with giant bugs and lizards - no one should be hanging Christmas decorations in a tank top and shorts, it isn’t natural).

So, I will myself to joyously celebrate the coming of next summer. Sure, we’re bringing Garrison Keillor back to Blossom - but that’s only going to kill June and then I might actually have time for a vacation (this is not a dirty word). If we can do a 10-month countdown to Christmas, we can certainly do the same for fireflies and fireworks and swimming pools and Cedar Point and tomatoes and bike rides. Maybe we can make it be so that the seasons are only a state of mind, and mere thoughts of long days and breezes through the trees will override driving to Cleveland in 6 inches of snow, getting up early to scrape the car, layers and layers and layers and layers. Maybe.

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Craig, Linda, Bob Boilen, Anya Grundmann and Chris in front of the Folk Alley Express

This weekend, I drove (splitting duties with my friend Linda) a 38′ RV/mobile recording studio to Rhodes Island for the Newport Folk Festival. There were four of us sleeping, eating and working from the vehicle for 5 days. Our boss, Al, drove separately with his friend Mike - and that was our crew for recording the performances on the Harbor Stage, where we were parked and had our promotional table set up as well. The Folk Alley crowd was working with NPR on live broadcasts from the festival, so we met (and hung out with) a bunch of people from NPR and the two other stations, WMVY and WFUV, working on the project.

The weekend was a lot of work. I was at my table for two days straight - telling hundreds of music fans about FolkAlley.com. It was simply amazing to see that many folk fans in one place - young people, old people, everyone in between. There was so much enthusiasm about what we are doing. We met people who already listen to Folk Alley and many more who are now excited to try out our stream. Linda, Chris and Craig spent their days recording and editing audio. We all worked like crazy (Al made food runs, helped man the table and took pictures - everyone pitched in).

And there were the new friendships we made. I took advantage of an offer from a young man named Galen to take photos for the Folk Alley Newport blog and added lots of content to our page. Bob, Anya, Alan and Kevin from NPR were so nice - even when they ended up at dinner with only us (everyone else got stuck in the traffic) and then had to drive us around. They let Chris stay with them after his air mattress sprung a leak - it was all very above and beyond.

The Iron & Wine crowd in front of the Folk Alley Express

The performances were amazing. And it wasn’t just the high-caliber musicians, the vibe was created in part by the audience that was so fully involved with the event - invested in making these musical moments stand out and really mean something more than a random concert series. I was brought to tears on more than one occasion (stand out performances: Mavis Staples, Iron & Wine, The Decemberists, Elvis Perkins in Dearland and - of course - Pete Seeger). Watching Pete Seeger perform with Del McCoury, Joan Baez and all of that day’s musicians on the final day - the audience standing in the rain - was the true definition of folk music. All of these people came together on that spot to join in the singing of songs that had been passed down from one generation to the next, building community through shared experience. It is something I will never forget.

Chris, Eleanor, Galen, Linda and Craig on the last day

As Pete and George Wein said good-night and closed the Newport Folk Fest, it was a little like saying camp good-byes. We had worked together to create something really exciting. So much energy in the air, so many new friends and memories to last a lifetime. Today, I still feel wiped out - trying to find my bearing after coming back to Earth. I’m sure that the euphoria we felt will fade as we go on and, just like camp, those people you bonded with will return to being co-workers and not co-conspirators.

But, we’ll always have Newport.

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The finished sit-upon (mug for scale)

Music festivals and outdoor concerts are fun and a great way to enjoy music during the warmer months. But you need something to sit on. When I went to MerleFest a few years back, my choices were to either drag around a camp chair or a picnic blanket. Most of the time, I just sat on my giant hippie skirt.

This year, with a trip to the Newport Folk Fest in the works, I decided to make a sit-upon. A girl scout sit-upon is usually a pile of newspapers wrapped in plastic used as a portable seat. Mine had the same purpose, but I wanted something lighter and maybe a little larger, so I could get my legs completely off the ground.

I designed it to be reminiscent of a quilt, with a pieced top (made out of fabric from my scrap box) over a layer of flannel and a layer of fleece. Then I bound it with a wide bias band. The backing was plastic tablecloth fabric. While I want the sit-upon to be waterproof, the backing fabric tore while I was turning the finished product and I don’t know how it’s going to wash up.

One of the corner grommets

I put grommets in the corners so that the sit-upon can be gathered on a carabiner and clipped to my backpack. Ironically, I didn’t use it to watch a concert at Newport (I was way too busy to sit and watch anything) but I sat on the sit-upon at our table. I’m keeping it in the back of my car for last minute get-aways (it should be great for concerts at Blossom and Cain Park - and maybe this weekend at Lock 3).  All in all, I like the finished project and time will tell how much use I get out of it.

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I don’t mean to play the single girl card, but what is the big deal about eating alone?  I’m listening to The Splendid Table, and Lynn has on Deborah Madison and her husband talking about their new book, “What We Eat When We Eat Alone.” Good Food on KCRW was even asking listeners to call in with their weird menu items when eating solo.  I get it, the social custom is for people to eat in groups - like wolves. I don’t know if this is really true for most folks or it it’s just what I see on tv, because I only eat with people at restaurants or on special occasions.

Just now, many of you made a sad, pitiful noise thinking of me and my Lean Cuisine in front of the television. But your pity is misplaced. Most nights, I come home and cook something lovely and eat on a table, with a placemat and a complete set of cutlery. It’s true that I don’t have a wickedly large repertoire and that I rarely make large bunches of food (because, if that chicken I found that was dated 2003 is any indication, my freezer is a wasteland), but it’s healthy and nobody ever argues with the chef. There are hardly ever any coarse words at all, since it’s just me.

You may now be saying to yourself, “She would be so much happier cooking for someone else.” Maybe - I do like to cook and I don’t experiment with soup as much as I would like (because it’s hard to make soup for one effectively). But my way is ok, too. To the list of people on Facebook that thought a cookbook on Vegan cooking for one was sad I answer - I would rather cook for one happy single person than two people that feel forced to eat together.

And, when I am very lazy, my single gal meal consists of tea (always), pepperoni, cheese, olives and pickles. Then I get a headache from all of the salt. Bon appetit!

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Purse with matching wallet

I know it’s July, but I made this project three weeks ago (as my facebook profile pic can attest) so it certainly counts.  It was inspired by a purse I saw in an exhibit of handbags at the Canton Museum of Art.  The artist was inspired in turn by something her Grandmother brought back from Mexico.  The purse in Canton was a doll’s upper torso connected to a skirt of flowers, created on a cage that opened.

I decided to take the idea of a flower covered bag and make it a soft form on a fabric base.  I made it to match a tank I wore under a dress to a party at the Akron Art Museum.  And, it went together surprisingly quickly.  I was only going to carry it to the party - but it turns out to be a very convenient size and I haven’t switched back to my other purse yet.

I started with a base of green tapestry fabric, so that the flowers would look like they were on a field of grass.  I wanted it to have texture and I looked at velvet and corduroy and settled on a woven paisley.  The lining is green taffeta (also home dec).  For the pattern, the circle bottom was the shape of a CD and I measured around to come up with the body rectangle.  When doing drawstring bags, I have a tendency to make them too short so that the top doesn’t splay open enough.  In the end, I added two more inches and then made a sample out of pink satin (I plan on using the sample as a gift bag).  I also made a matching coin purse.

Flower bits and pieces

To make the bag, I sewed the rectangle into a tube (leaving open about 4 inches in the lining and a half inch open in the outer fabric where I wanted my drawstring) and then sewed on the circle bottom.  I put one inside the other and sewed around the top.  Then, I flipped the entire piece inside out and stuffed the lining back into the outer fabric.  I stitched a line 3 inches from the top and another 1/2 inch higher.  Drawstring in and voila - bag!

For the flowers, I bought a variety of stems with fabric flowers.  I pulled the flower part off the stem, discarded leaves, center bits, etc and sewed the petals onto the bag with buttons I bought at a church rummage sale.  I tried to use a mix of sizes and colors - both of petals and buttons.  I didn’t want to use hot glue because it stiffens the fabric, it can come off with heat or use and I just don’t like it.  I used cord that I bought on clearance years ago and was deep in my stash.

For the wallet, I cut two rectangles with points, folded up the envelop and stitched.  Then, I put right sides together, stitched around the top, flipped it, tucked the lining into the outer fabric, top stitched across the lip of the envelope and found a button.  I made a buttonhole with my lovely sewing machine.

Sample bag with ribbon drawstring

The bag went together so easily, that I’m considering making more out of holiday fabric with ribbon as drawstring and turning them into reusable gift bags.  My craft project for July (a situpon for music festivals) is already started, so you should see it here before long.

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Tomatoes in the big planter in the middle of my driveway (aka - the only place that gets sun)

Today I will plant my final bunch of annuals.  The perennials are already up (most have blossomed and are now onto whatever they do in the heat of the summer) and I got the tomatoes in last week (more on the tomatoes later - really, see if you can stop me).  Today, I’m putting in vincas, the annual not the vine, begonias, and something called a woolly lavender, which looks like lavender but isn’t and will grow to be a lot taller than I thought it would (so, oops).

I really love to plant things.  When I was growing up, the first thing I would do when coming home from school was to go out to my mother’s garden with a basket and pick whatever was ripe.  It was very country of me.  We had a huge raspberry bush and I would plant zinnias and marigolds and snap dragons.  Mom also planted tomatoes, beans, radishes, beets and zucchini.  And it was great having fresh vegetables and bouquets around the house.

Now, I’ve been trying to grow tomatoes since I moved to Kent almost 10 years ago and then again when I moved into my house in Akron.  It’s ridiculous - you would think I was trying to find a cure for cancer.  I can get the plants to grow and be covered with green tomatoes, but then the squirrels and rabbits and groundhogs step in and I’m lucky to have a handful of cherry tomatoes to eat on my way to work.  My obsession with heirloom varieties is especially grievous.  I want to leave them on the vine to ripen, but the riper they get, the more risk I take with the critters.  It’s like a game of chicken and they’re winning.

Tomatoes in the bed below the driveway. You can also see the shasta daisy at left, which I suspect will be eaten by rabbits when it tries to bloom.

I said this year that I would only grow tiny varieties, because there are physically more fruit - which increases my chances of success.  I succumbed and ended up putting in a hillbilly and a mortgage lifter, but I also have a hybrid (I can’t remember what, I just kept thinking, “Maybe these will be faster and bigger.” I don’t really think it will make a difference).  I have 3 super grapes, 2 orange cherries, 1 hybrid I bought because the plant looked sturdy and 1 purple cherry that I couldn’t resist.  There is also a red pepper, some herbs and a random tomato plant that self started in the big planter (it will never be big enough in time, but I’m curious about it, so I’m not going to pull it out).  I tried a squash last year and it grew and I had lots of blossoms, but it couldn’t get fertilized, so that was that.

I will say this, last summer, along with eating them alone or in salads, I started cooking with the cherry tomatoes and it was so great, I’m looking forward to trying some new recipe ideas.  I had a big herb garden last year thanks to my mom, and I’m keeping that going as well.  It’s a tradition that I kill one rosemary plant a year.  Something new is some organic fertilizer that already is making my random plots and buckets look more healthy.

Wish me luck!

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