Dear Reader,
Having finished reading Ann Patchett’s moving Whistler today, Word Raccoon and I are gathering our thoughts and putting together something about it. In the meantime, if you haven’t watched her powerful Literature Isn’t Dead video, please do!
Speaking of literature, tomorrow is my last Rilke session, though I will continue reading him on my own. (And I guess I should read him for the session, yikes!) Who else could convince me (besides WR) to put up flamingo wallpaper in the clothing nook? 😂
WR, we are supposed to Ixnay ethay edecoratingray alktay, so we definitely won’t say we have finished papering the exterior of the hall built-ins and are pleased with the result. Although we might add trim at some point.
Not that we were, but if we were speaking of music, I would say that WR and I attended a band gig at a golf course clubhouse and that while listening to Checkered Past WR demanded a bite of poetry. She had come early with the band, and she was going to read Whistler, but then she got caught up doing website maintenance, and then the rest of the band table filled with others and dinner was ordered…
…then she insisted on writing a poem, grabbing ahold of a line she’d been mulling.
Even as that little missy was listening to the band play, she opened my Notes app on the sly and thought she’d have her own little songfest. She wrote three songs before I could tell her she was being rude. The songs are very rough, but they have, as I always say, a seed.
She was supposed to be working on that poem I mentioned a while back that turned into a song. I need a poem, you silly raccoon! I’m not sure a song will do!
The songs are all country (the band playing was not), and the two titled songs are “Nothin’ to Prove” and “Little Dime Store Notebook.” The one without a name is probably the most polished one, ironically. (That’s not saying much.) A couple of possible titles are auditioning.
Word Raccoon, I’ve said it before, What are we supposed to do with songs? Cut it out!
She won’t listen. Actually, she fired back Any damn thing I want to do with them! She’s such a sassy pants.
Someone is coming over to pressure wash the house tomorrow evening, and I’m asking WR if I can count that as a House Gorgeous project, but she says no, that it has to be something we do ourselves.
But that’s between me and the raccoon.
Talking to the soon-moon and writing tunes,
Drema