Though starting rather late, our cleaning for spring is advancing well
In my defense, it is difficult to forget that the season is not still winter
We drove to church in driving snow, the visibility poor, but we got there safely
This morning the sun is so bright, I cannot see, even just looking out the window. Inspiring!
There were a few scuffles in the parceling out of cleaning tasks, but all was peaceful by day’s end
Today is a grocery and baking day, hopefully with a nice corner to read in later, when I have earned it
Happy Monday! It has come again. I bid you a great one, or at least a peaceful one–oh, and did I mention I love the blues? (the music, not depression) I love them like I love a good haiku–sadness and hope in one tasty morsel. Time for coffee and breakfast!
I walked into the place and decided that this was where I belonged for the next two years. It was loud and raucous, and I could not hear my own voice when I ordered a drink from the bartender with hair standing straight up on her head. It was 1985, and one-night stands were in season. Perhaps they were popular and frantic because everyone knew they were on their way out. Like the bees in September.
I met a man who sang at the piano once or twice a weekend. It wasn’t the same as the driving disco beat and crappy singles bar feeling. It was a hint of something smooth and fine, lounge music adding a dirty tone to what I had heard now and then on my folks’ t.v. I was in love.
I had a crush on the man but I was in love with the music. The words. The romance of the piano in the night, speaking to me of longings that were very old. I knew this place. I had known it years before I walked inside.