Dear Reader,
Word Raccoon was up way too early to be chauffeured to her appointment with her rheumatologist. She is thankful for her husband taking the day off to take her, and to accompany her on the rest of the day’s jaunts, which included lunch and a Nutella shake, finally, thank you very much.
The rheumatologist says she still shows a lot of inflammation, so he’s going to add a medicine to her regimen. Which, WR is like, “You mean I can feel even better?” I mean, she’s been dealing, but the idea that she could be better, better in a few months is fantastic!
WR is back to the novel today. Or that’s the plan. I mean, at some point. She’s also yes/no on the gym front, which is fine. Who cares that it’s now late afternoon, right? Right?
Oh, and while looking back through her files she found something to share. It’s probably a rough draft of a song and she guesses it was the fun live music she heard today that made her go find this. (Is it lyrics from her second novel? Maybe. Likely. I mean, the second novel was about country music, but who knows?)
Brimming
“Howdy ma’am,” then ducking low
that brim’s got somewheres to be
hiding eyes, hiding face
she’d like to snatch it from its
place
Music in its bob and weave
he knows she just wants to see
she can hear in the shadow on the door
the notes bent and tossed to the floor
The notes bent and picked from the floor
Her pockets bulge with Mardi Gras throws
her metal detector all but glows
His brim is still riding low
that brim from a long, long
time ago.
That brim from a long time ago.
(Surely there is more to this, but that’s all for now.)
Okay, WR! Back to the novel! Less than a week of August to go!
Drema