(R.H. Herron)
We’ve been training Clara to "WAIT" before eating from her food dish which we place on her pillow in the living room. She’s really, really good at it, and we’ve been experimenting with doing different things as she’s waiting — I go in my room and make funny noises, or sit on the couch and pet Miss Idaho.
Today Lala tried something else. Willie was already resting on Clara’s pillow.
Dude. The cat you can hear complaining is actually Digit, not on screen, not even Willie. That’s one mellow cat.
I just spent a lovely half-hour watching YouTube videos of the Kingston Trio. There were a lot of albums that my sisters and I listened to over and over and OVER again growing up (Tom Paxton, Hoyt Axton, Pete Seeger) but I am completely confident in saying we didn’t listen to any artist as much as we did the Kingston Trio. I can sing all the parts to all the songs. Okay, most of the songs. This made me very popular at Christmas dinner last year when Lala’s dad played one record after the other as he and I and my mother-in-law sang every song, sitting at the table, drinking wine. Lala proved her mettle by looking interested the whole time.
And Nick, of course, was always my favorite. We all love a clown, especially a short one. He’s good in the video below. I spent a long time looking for a video of the Merry Minuet, but will settle with the MTA.
Look how CUTE they are.
And if you’ve never heard this song, please go on over and listen to the Merry Minuet. By Sheldon Harnick, sung by the Kingston Trio, recorded live at the "Hungry i" (now a strip bar in North Beach — always a jolt when I walk by). This was always my favorite, and still completely up-to-date. Sadly. Oh, and Scotch and Soda. Or maybe Mariah…. What was your favorite?
It took me a while to wake up this morning. Late night, don’tchaknow.
I needed more coffee than Clara was going to be able to make me, so I went to the cafe. Still here, and I actually did work, so that’s good.
A produce delivery truck just drove by the cafe, advertising Fijian and Mexican produce. Huh.
Did you see the debate? Didja play Palin bingo? We did, but no one won. I think we were too busy diagramming her sentences in our heads to watch the bingo cards too closely. Well, sister Bethany and I were, anyway. Lala actually listened to what she said, and I thought her (lala’s) head was gonna asplode. It’s just better to let the words wash over you. Easier. She (Palin) was well-coached, though. It wasn’t the train-wreck drinking-game I thought it was going to be. Dammit.
We followed the debate by going to see one of my favorite bands of all time: Cheetahs on the Moon. Power ballads, man. With glam, glitter, Feathers, and a lovely lack of irony.
Lala wore eyeliner for the occasion, and I doubled my application.
Feathers rocks OUT.
Cheetahs is Beth’s new favorite band.
You can’t go wrong, dude.
Now. More coffee.
I’ve been playing at writing all morning. Can’t seem to put two words together that sound like English, let alone good writing. I have a dentist appointment in an hour, so I’ll make my escape soon. I hate the dentist, have I mentioned that? Bah. But I’m ready to close the computer.
The fog is rolling in, and I’m at home for the first time this fall to see it. (I would know, because I’ve spent ample time just staring out the window today.) The hill above our house, visible out my office windows, starts out clear on early fall mornings, and then gets eaten by fog. I love that. I love when the marine layer moves in during the day, not out.
And who can complain about writing with a set-up like this?
Now I have to go do the Dentist Brush.
I woke this morning at3:57am, three minutes before my alarm. I woke up because of a smell. A slight smell of skunk was coming in through the window and blowing on me. Now, it wasn’t a strong odor, just a light one, but it was enough that it woke me up and then I panicked, thinking the smell would stick to me.
Dude. I am a light sleeper.
If someone sends me a text in the middle of night, even if the sound is off, the light from the face of the phone wakes me up if I forget to cover it while I’m charging it next to the bed.
I love my eyemask and ear plugs. I love them so much. Earlier this week I was out of earplugs and too busy to go buy more. I was down to ONE earplug. I would place it in the ear that was up and then when I rolled over to my other side (which is every half-hour or so), I would remove it and put it in the other ear, now up. And I know, that’s kinda ew. Recipe for an ear infection. I was lucky, though, and Lala bought me a new beautiful box chock-full of orange ear plugs, and all is good and quiet again.
Me, I’m about done with my work week. It couldn’t come at a better time. I have a lot of things planned this weekend, but I can count on a couple of things: One, I will write a lot, and two, I will be very yarn-ey on Saturday. I’m going to see La Harlot in Santa Rosa at 3pm, and then I’m going to Kira’s trunk show at Knit-One-One that night. And people, I am giving up Hardly Strictly Bluegrass to do these things. Free music in Golden Gate Park, all the big names (truth be told, I wouldn’t go anyway — just can’t face that many people this year. I’m just not quite up for that crush).
Yay! Knitting and writing. Oh, yes, and running, too. And perhaps some ice cream will fit in there somewhere.
Have you read this? It’s heartbreaking, and the most lovely small great moment.
ETA: Oh, you cynics! Darlings, this wasn’t written as some sophomore attempt to make it around the world in one million emails. It was written by Kent Nerburn, and orignally published nine years ago in his book Make Me An Instrument of Your Peace, a meditation on the prayer of St. Francis. Anne Lamott called it "a lovely book." The zenmoments.org site that posted it crashed yesterday from too many hits. I’m not sure if they’re bring their server back up, so I linked to a different site above. I love it.