Scout Moves

I have occasionally wanted to add audio to my blog posts, like the other day when I read a story I had written or in the past when I’ve decided you needed to hear me play the piano, sing a song or whistle through a tonette with piano accompaniment. Blogger makes it easy to add photos and video, but it sure doesn’t make it easy to add audio, and I have had to do some digging to make sound happen. In case you have wondered how to add audio to your blog posts, I thought it might be helpful if I offered a step-by-step how-to. Here is how I do it: First I downloaded Audacity , a free application that acts like a traditional recording device. The graphics are easy to follow because the buttons are recognizable. You simply record from your computer through Audacity and save the file. Then you’ll need to export the file as an mp3 file. Nothing is ever easy, though, and Audacity can’t do that all by itself. You have to download a LAME file for that —libmp3lame.dylib. Once you’ve down

Yes, I know I haven't written in more than two weeks, and you'd think the absence would mean I have lots of catching up to do, but not really. Turns out I don't have that much to say, haven't been up to many interesting activities, haven't stumbled across many insights worthy of writing down. It's a slump, or maybe it's a hiatus. Whatever it is, I'll fill in the gap with some repeat posts suitable for the season, beginning with this short story about a Christmas memory. When I wrote this, Rich (who used to reside in Blogville but now lives on Facebook) suggested I read it aloud, so I added the recording in case you'd prefer to be read to. Here goes—A MAGICAL CHRISTMAS: My Memaw and Granddaddy didn’t bother with a Christmas tree for just the two of them. They had a potted palm in the living room, and sometimes Memaw would hang wrapped candy canes on its few stalky branches. That palm was the one living thing in the house that served to filter the

I was thinking about Matthew Broderick today, discussing with a friend whether or not Broderick is a comedian or a good actor capable of memorable comedy when given the right script. We determined he’s a good actor and decided Ferris Bueller’s Day Off was his funniest film, and most memorable. Seriously, start naming Broderick films you can remember without having to Google them, and see how far you get. I don’t know a single person who doesn’t like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off , and everyone has favorite scenes—is it the one where Principal Rooney gets nasty on the phone because he thinks he’s speaking to Bueller? Is it the one where his sister flirts with creepy Charlie Sheen at the police station? Or is it the parade scene? Or maybe the scene where Rooney, mauled by the guard dog and worn down by a day of hunting for the truant Bueller, is forced to ride the school bus home? I love them all. I love the scenes in Chicago. I love the notion of taking the day off and doing something unu

No. 1 was living in a sublet for her first few months in Austin, Texas, but she has now moved into her own apartment, one she hopes to stay in for a while. Moving is no fun. I haven’t seen her new place apart from a video tour of the complex, but she has complained about the size of the kitchen—so small with so little storage space, she’s hard pressed to store even dishes and flatware. That’s a shame, but you know, it’s difficult to hear your kid complain about one of her first living spaces without thinking back to your own…and…wait, I feel a flashback coming on! When Husband and I were first married, we lived in Ridgewood, New Jersey, a town with a lot of moneyed residents even though we were relatively money-less. We rented the second floor of an 80-year-old house owned by a nursing home that bought up a row of houses on a lovely street. They rented the first floors out to elderly people who needed only minimal care, and they rented the second floors to people like us. Our apar