Dear Reader,
Word Raccoon and I attended an old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness release-day listening party at a local record shop.
We heard Paul McCartney’s The Boys of Dungeon Lane. There were maybe twenty people in the store, and the album was really listenable, especially the track “Days We Left Behind.”
Attendees received postcards of McCartney as a lad, very cool, and one lucky winner took home a print of Macca. She said she was going to put it in her kitchen.
I pointed out to her that it came with hardware to hang it, so that tells you the frame of mind I’m in right now.
The LPs arrived just in time, which apparently had been very much in doubt, according to the store owner, so that was a relief to all.
We love that Macca is still creating. We think you’re never too old to create.
WR only wrote one poem today: “Wallpapering the Moon.”
No idea why celestial bodies are on her mind so strongly.
She has done many of the things and knows precisely which things remain and has plans now for many of them.
Some she has no clue about, though she wishes she did.
She registered for Adam Walker’s poetry class and ordered the book of Rilke’s poems which is required reading. For a moment she experienced that particular euphoria that comes from knowing brain food is incoming, and then the usual “but what if I make an idiot of myself?; what if I don’t know what I think I know?; what if I sound pretentious?…”
She finished the second Rushdie story, “The Musician of Kahani,” which had both magical realism and shades of Vonnegut, and began the third, “Late,” which opens with a man who wakes up dead and begins almost immediately saying that Descartes was partially right and partially wrong about death, so we are intrigued.
She decided to try the touted slow-reading method and does indeed find it superior and the reading more enjoyable, so she’s grateful for that advice, just as she was when it was suggested that she ought to read once for plot, again for the rest. Her reading has never been the same, though she was never a weak reader to begin with.
She plans to spend part of the weekend submitting poetry. And spending time on her porch, which she always enjoys when the weather and such is nice. She overfed the squirrels today on accident, but it was fun to watch them scramble for the mixed nuts.
Weekend reading and writing,
Drema
P.S. I first watched this video a couple of nights ago, and I just read about it again in the brothers Green’s newsletter about the once-belief that goose grow on trees. Yes, a dictionary from the time proves it, via The Dictionary Diva. (This made me crave my “paper” dictionary,” among other things.)
dremadrudge.com 