Last night I did something that is very unusual for me. I sat and listened, just listened, to Barbra Streisand’s new album, Walls. I had stumbled across the early release song “Don’t Lie to Me” and was impressed enough that I ordered the album, which was released yesterday. I am not alone in being impressed, Chosen Perspectives felt the same way. All of the songs on this album relate directly to the current condition of our society and politics. I was moved.
For some reason, probably something I read somewhere, I was thinking about what I always said I wanted in my house – as in, the type of house I had. It was to have a wrap-around porch, a fireplace, and a bay window. My morning room now is kind of like a bay window, and I once rented a house with a fireplace, but I have never had the wrap-around porch. So goes it. When I was a young teenager, perhaps 13, my family moved to Beverly, Ohio because my dad got work there (he was an insulator, and we moved frequently as jobs came and went), where they rented a house with a wraparound porch. In the small side yard, right next to the porch, was a persimmon tree. Why is it some memories just stick with you?
I wonder why so frequently, a thought will cross my mind and that thought instantly links to a song – despite the fact that I rarely remember titles or lyrics. This morning I wrote in an email that our skies could not decide whether to be cloudy or sunny, and “or in or out of the money” popped into my old, weary brain.
Sometimes I wish I had the talent of twitching my nose and making things happen, like Samantha on “Bewtiched”. Any of you remember that TV show? If I could, I would twitch my nose and create limitations for many things: length of political campaigns, funds spent on those campaigns, donations to campaigns, number of terms of office in both houses of Congress and the Supreme Court. I would allow a specific number of debates between candidates for offices, and limit other advertising. I would strike any candidate that spent his/her time demeaning the opponent and making up lies with something – either a wet noodle, or lightning, or whatever would get their attention. Closer to home, I would twitch my nose and the pine needles and pine cones that seem to fall constantly would immediately disappear.
I wish they would either make Daylight Savings time permanent, or just forget it altogether. We will be falling back this weekend – which means my furry girl will think it’s time to get up an hour earlier. We just got into the routine of getting up at a time that suits me quite nicely.
I have some chipmunks that frequent the bird feeder that hangs in a tree outside my window. One of them – at least I prefer to think it’s the same one all the time because how many not-too-bright critters can there be in one group? – has the habit of crawling through a port into the feeder, despite the fact that he could readily get food through the port below. Others do the same thing, but they know how to get out – this particular one climbs in, then cannot get the traction to get out of the port above him.He did this again yesterday, and I watched him try to get out of the port above for awhile, then decided I’d prefer that the feeder not become a burial ground, so I went out, took the feeder down, removed the lid, put it close to the ground on it’s side – the chipmunk did not come out. I looked in – he was eating again! So I tipped the feeder downwards and he slid out on an avalanche of seed. Feeders have now been filled again, so he can’t do that – until the level goes down below the top ports. I think I’ll name him Dopey. Disney won’t mind, will he?
My preferred word count has now been exceeded, so I shall move onward, and let you go back to living your real lives.
But first – have you voted?