The Monday afternoon random playlist:
1. Barenaked Ladies – If I Had A Million Dollars
2. Great Big Sea – When I Am King
3. “Tommy” – Go To The Mirror/Listening To You
4. Yuko Sasaki – Listening To The Sound of Rain
5. The Klezmatics & Moxy Fruvous – Shprayz Ik Mir
6. A Static Lullaby – The Shooting Star That Destroyed Us All
7. Save Ferris – Build Me Up Buttercup
8. Cake – Symphony in C
9. Bryan Ferry – Dance With Life
10. Bruce Cockburn – The Coldest Night of the Year
11. Wilco – Muzzle of Bees
12. They Might Be Giants – If I Wasn’t Shy
13. Berlioz – Symphonie Fantastique
14. Jack Cassidy & Shirley Jones – Girl Land
15. The Chieftains & Mick Jagger – Long Black Veil
16. Animaniacs – The Monkey Song
17. The King’s Singers – Bugeilo’r Gwenith Gwyn (Watching The White Wheat)
18. Green Day – Pop Rocks and Coke
19. Manic Street Preachers – Take The Skinheads Bowling
20. SNL Cast – Recurring Characters For Unity
Ah, another odd mix.
How lovely to bounce about from one extreme to the other, in little three-minute-or-so time frames, all at mega-decibels because I had the house to myself for several hours. I’ve turned it down NOW, of course. But when it’s just me, it’s really me and mega-decibel surround sound, and the four walls of the house are breathing in and out, in and out, just like in the cartoons.
You can do that when you live way out in the country.
I suppose you can do it in town, too, but I don’t think all your neighbors would appreciate it. Some, but not all.
Mmmmmm. . . . Elgar. Cello concerto.
More essays turned in today. The grammar and spelling are so bad, you wouldn’t believe me if I posted some of them here. Fortunately, I had a witness. Otherwise, people would think I made this stuff up.
I saw a snake today, for the first time since we built this house next to the snake-haven of next door, where we lived for twelve years. It was a tiny thing, maybe six or seven inches long, and it was trying to climb up a smooth stone wall right by the garage door. It finally gave up, slithered away, and disappeared among the thick weeds around the driveway apple tree.
It was pale gray, with darker gray stripes, from tip to tip. I have no idea what kind it was. I don’t need to know. If it ever comes back, I will crush the life out of it with whatever kind of shoes I am wearing at the time. And don’t give me the “they are useful, they eat bugs, etc” speech. I know it. I agree. A good distance away from the house, they are free to slither and devour bugs and hiss and give each other the raspberries as much as they want. But when they slither near my house, they are marked for death. Somehow I feel he was alone. Probably he’d heard the rumors and just wanted to check them out. He’ll find out for sure if he ever comes back.
Hub is downstairs watching AMC grading math tests. I am upstairs grading essays blogging. Occasionally, one of us will shout something to the other. We can’t hear each other from this distance, so the shoutee will get up, walk to the top/bottom of the staircase, and ask for a repeat. This will occur seven or eight times in an hour or so. We’d get an intercom system but the exercise is good for us.
The Beatles. Golden Slumbers. Beautiful.
I wonder if we have enough apples for a pie. . . . .
There’s persimmon pulp in the freezer but I was saving that for closer to the holidays.
I don’t eat either but I look as though I do. I do love to make pies and pretty desserts, but I got fat on pizza and hamburgers, not sweets.
Speaking of which. . . . .