Take This Waltz

I am home, have seen no one but my dear friend, Adrian. This is the life.

OK, so now that nobody is looking anymore I can tell all - my inner most feelings about life and all the people who are in mine. Nah. Although that might be fun. And destructive. And meaningless. I mean, what the heck, nobody is looking. Except Karen. Here are pictures of our trip to Maine. The best is the video of a white sand beach in the Acadian National Park. Lovely. I like that it ends with Eric walking the beach. You have to watch the whole thing.

Summer was eventful. I worked for some very nice people, made new friends there whom I will never see again. I almost died of humidity and heat. What a dreadful climate they have in DC. The world has always known that, but you have to experience it at its worst to really understand. And this was the worst. The news guys told us that every night. Cindy was amazed that I could live in So Pas without AC, since I kept the one in my room in Arlington going day and night. But really, dry heat, cool nights, blessed So Pas.

I nearly finished my tapestry, but have run out of some colors of thread that I need. But then I realized that, like my blog, nobody will ever see it. So I'm using "close" to finish it. I work on it an hour every day while I watch Perry Mason in honor of my mother. She loved that man. Soon I will start my new needlepoint. It's going to be as frustrating as this one was, lots of little flowers. When I am done with it, I will have 5 of these tucked away somewhere in the apartment. Maybe I do need a will. If I bequeath it, does that mean they have to take it?

And, of course, I've been reading. Books beyond measure. I think I'll save the list for my next posting. I also listened to some of the great music I have on my iPod. This is my "play this as I die" playlist. It lightens my heart to hear this wild mix of songs. I grin whenever I hear Leonard Cohen or someone singing his song. "I want you, I want you, I want you." Sung with his deep, raspy voice. I'm his. But I'm also Bob Dylan's, who takes me back to a dorm room in LA. I sing along with Mary as she sings Hush-a-by. This is the song that I used to sing to Adrian. Before he asked me to please stop singing. He told me the other day that he was listening to a Kate Hudson interview when she said that her child has asked her to stop singing. He felt a certain kinship with that kid. I bet Kate doesn't listen any better than I do. "I am not, the boy next door."