The Sound Of Silence

Tick tock, tick, tock.

It’s been over a week since I’ve been able to hear that familiar sound coming from our old Regulator wind-up clock that my dad found and restored so many years ago which hangs on our kitchen wall.

I must say, the silence is deafening; something Linda and I will have to get used to again after the post Christmas exodus of our children and grandchildren who have all safely returned to their far away locations in Arizona, California and Nebraska. They have provided us with a noisy but delightful diversion to our normal routine.  It really began when everybody arrived for our traditional ham supper and gift exchange on Christmas Eve.  Ella, age 8 and Zoey age 12 are the only real “kids” remaining in our family who still might appreciate something besides clothes, gift cards or cash so most of the actual presents under the tree on Christmas Eve are for them. It’s still a joy to watch them open and react to each one; sometimes needing to be reminded by mom, “Now what do you say?”  And a meek reply, “Thank you.”

Zoey and Ella. Jolly little elves.

Zoey wanted this bow and arrow. Even though it was Nerf..everybody had to warn her not to shoot her eye out.

Ella must have some of grandpa’s appreciation for Red Green because she wanted and received a whole bunch of decorative duct tape.

Ella is, to put it mildly, a bit of a livewire. She’s incredibly creative and always leaves us several samples of her creativity for display on our refrigerator door. It’s a challenge, though, to find something that will hold her interest for very long..that is, until her Uncle James showed her how to braid a lanyard. James has always been great with kids and patiently guided Ella past her initial frustrations until she had it down and before long had graduated to more complicated patterns. We were all just amazed that Ella could be so transfixed by something that to most of us would seem tedious and mundane.  But James knows..just like my mom and every other person who has ever crocheted or knitted or weaved..developing those skills can not only be therapeutic but relaxing and artistically challenging. Just what the Ella ordered.

On Thursday, I asked Zoey if she brought her Viola along and, if so, would be willing to give grandma and me a concert. The answer to both was yes and it was wonderful to see how she held her brand new instrument (upgraded from the child size) with such poise; how she drew her bow across the strings with confidence and was rewarded with pure bold notes..a far cry from the timid little scratchy sounds that occasionally slipped out at her first grandparent command performance.

Zoey’s concert was interrupted near the conclusion by a phone call. I had forgotten that it was Thursday: time for me to be on the radio.  I’ve become a regular on Grant Peterson’s Great Afternoon Smorgasbord Radio Show on KBRK ever since Grant suffered a stroke last April and Radio legend and rodeo announcing icon, Jim Thompson, has been  filling in until Grant’s return. Anyway, Jim..or his colleague Trinity..call me up at 3:30 p.m. on Thursdays and we just chat on the air for 15 minutes about most anything from my years at Keloland to my blog or anything that comes to mind. Well, what came to mind last Thursday was Zoey’s private concert that got cut a bit short. Jim says, we can’t have that…hold the phone up and have her play a number for our listeners. So that’s how Zoey Josephine Moser came to have her rendition of “Up on the housetop” heard…not only on the air over KBRK radio in Brookings, South Dakota but streamed around the world via internet.

Miss Z.J. Moser
Violist heard on radio locally and worldwide.

Tick, tock, tick tock.

I already miss sitting here in my big chair just listening to our adult kids around the table talking and laughing about the things they did and the people they remember growing up in this neighborhood. Linda and I both absolutely love it when they find humor in what probably could be perceived as our rather dysfunctional family.  None of it has ever bothered either of us.

The only thing I don’t like about my family is losing 20 consecutive games of “Bananagrams” to them. To make matters worse, I think James and Suzan actually delayed saying “Bananas” once or twice in order to give me time to declare victory. Damn letter Q.

Happy New Year from our too quiet little house to yours