I don’t have anything to say, but the sky seems to merit some sort of comment — shining silver and beautiful in an unsettling way. I ran out to take a picture, no (minimal) skill of mine can capture a sky like that.
I tracked down a book from my childhood — The Fireside Book of Children’s Songs, with illustrations in a very “Welcome to 1966” mode by John Alcorn. These are the songs I knew all the words to, the songs I could play on my mother’s baby grand in the living room. I read and sang and played the original to shreds, and my mother threw it away at some point, and then I forgot the title, and that was that. I could remember only two of the songs — “I Know an Old Lady” and “All the Pretty Little Horses.” But now! What a treasure, all these songs like little doors into the past. I am not going to hustle through them all. One song per day, in order, no peeking ahead. I’ll learn all the words, remember the harmonies, wish I had a piano to see if my hands remember any of these.
What else am I reading? I am having trouble completing things, except for research. I have been thinking about a big readthrough of some of my favorite mystery writers, or even trying to learn a new language. But on a low-energy day like this, it’s hard to fire up to anything longer than a graphic novel. I have research to do, but I am unmotivated. My car is back at the shop for a safety recall and final attempt at figuring out the electrical system problem; and I will need to walk down to pick it up today, tomorrow, sometime, never.
I have a plethory of grackles these days, eating all the food, and grouching at the other birds that come. Luckily they are among the timidest of the animals who come here; I can stand up just inside the window and the grackles hie off, as the chickadee and doves linger.
That seems to be only four things! Ooh, maybe I’ll make soda bread. Does that count?