Congratulations!

[Valid Atom 1.0] This is a valid Atom 1.0 feed.

Recommendations

This feed is valid, but interoperability with the widest range of feed readers could be improved by implementing the following recommendations.

Source: http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default

  1. <?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421</id><updated>2024-05-02T09:15:32.442-04:00</updated><category term="life"/><category term="photos"/><category term="friends"/><category term="gigs"/><category term="maine"/><category term="thoughts"/><category term="music"/><category term="work"/><category term="video"/><category term="weather"/><category term="blog"/><category term="family"/><category term="home"/><category term="weekend"/><category term="aging"/><category term="blues"/><category term="dad"/><category term="musicians"/><category term="america"/><category term="food"/><category term="mom"/><category term="people"/><category term="jamming"/><category term="cat"/><category term="horse"/><category term="questions"/><category term="birthday"/><category term="chores"/><category term="equipment"/><category term="shopping"/><category term="television"/><category term="celebrities"/><category term="holiday"/><category term="money"/><category term="winter"/><category term="cats"/><category term="garden"/><category term="market"/><category term="photography"/><category term="snow"/><category term="trees"/><category term="politics"/><category term="bass"/><category term="books"/><category term="car"/><category term="christmas"/><category term="black cat road"/><category term="cambridge"/><category term="dreaming"/><category term="art"/><category term="spooky"/><category term="election"/><category term="fire"/><category term="joke"/><category term="discgolf"/><category term="nightmare"/><category term="recipe"/><category term="wine"/><category term="wood"/><category term="exercise"/><category term="&quot;gig count&quot;"/><category term="alcohol"/><category term="camera"/><category term="fall"/><category term="links"/><category term="movies"/><category term="poetry"/><category term="sick"/><category term="movie"/><category term="obama"/><category term="reunion"/><category term="writing"/><category term="pony"/><category term="recording"/><category term="riding"/><category term="twitter"/><category term="yoga"/><category term="computer"/><category term="dogs"/><category term="life stories"/><category term="petro"/><category term="routine"/><category term="soup"/><category term="MEME"/><category term="fair"/><category term="funeral"/><category term="mice"/><category term="mp3"/><category term="pam baker"/><category term="peaches"/><category term="radio"/><category term="stealing"/><category term="terry"/><category term="adult&#xa;problems"/><category term="international blues challenge 2016"/><category term="mousetrap"/><category term="mushrooms"/><category term="redsox"/><category term="wildlife"/><category term="women"/><category term="Tiny Desk Concert"/><category term="baseball"/><category term="clothes"/><category term="goat"/><category term="letters"/><category term="pheobe bridgers"/><category term="product"/><category term="smells"/><category term="sonic youth"/><category term="taxes"/><category term="Barfly"/><category term="Covid"/><category term="Happy New Year"/><category term="Henry"/><category term="desmondreed"/><category term="dream"/><category term="gigs&#xa;boston&#xa;cambridge&#xa;music"/><category term="hospice"/><category term="hospital"/><category term="life. cat&#xa;sick cat"/><category term="loss"/><category term="market nightmare"/><category term="mccain"/><category term="mom&#xa;dad&#xa;letters&#xa;love"/><category term="pumpkin"/><category term="quiz"/><category term="sister"/><title type='text'>More Reverberation</title><subtitle type='html'>Feedback From The Hill</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>426</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-378351314883189403</id><published>2024-05-02T09:11:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2024-05-02T09:14:51.935-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cynthia and Dad and Phyllis and The Subaru</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;Here I am again.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;May 2, 2024. It was 13 years ago this morning that Dad called me in a tizzy, stressed to the max, because Mom had kept him from sleeping all night. The symptoms of the disease, Alzheimer&#39;s, was making it impossible for him to feel rested, and he was truly burned out. That morning, the lovely Hospice nurse arrived, and after she evaluated the situation, she suggested that we transport Mom up to their Hospice House for a night or three, so that Dad could get a break. He agreed, and later that morning, an ambulance backed into the driveway, and they loaded her on to a stretcher and took her up to Auburn, an hour away. Dad and I followed in his car.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She never came back to her house, of course. She spent her last 10 days there, in a room in the Hospice House in Auburn, where so many others had lived their final days. She was well cared for, and they were incredibly empathetic and kind to us. She died there on May 12, 2011, just two days after her 79th birthday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I sure do miss her, and I sure do miss him, too.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;ve been kicking so much ass lately, I&#39;m kind of shocked at myself, really. Signed up for health insurance plan through work, did the paperwork for a new carrier with home/auto insurance policies, played a gig last Saturday night, showed up to work on time and working my butt off there, keeping up with the bills, grocery shopping, meal plans, accepted a fill-in bass gig with a new band for the end of August, keeping the house clean.. and trying to get enough sleep. It&#39;s been a crazy couple of weeks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday morning, I drove the Subaru over to Conway and dropped it off at the dealer for the big job I&#39;ve been putting off for a year and a half - new timing belt, replace the head gaskets, new oil pan, plus a new heat thermometer, oil switch and probably one or two other things. It&#39;s going to end up costing us at least 3 or 4 months of my pay, but, I&#39;m hoping, in the long run, it&#39;ll be worth it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Our Jeep is toast, now, pretty much. It&#39;s just sitting in the driveway, rusting away, and we are hoping to pick up a second used car at some point in the next few months. So, I keep working as much as I can, in order to earn my measly paycheck, in order to keep living.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It&#39;s fun.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;m hoping the Subaru, that I&#39;ve decided to call Cynthia, in honor of my late mother, will keep running for a few more years. I love to drive it because I am reminded of my Dad driving it, as it was his car, and now mine.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And, today is Phyllis&#39;s birthday. If it wasn&#39;t for Mom dying, Dad would never have met Phyllis, and so we have Mom to thank for that, too. Phyllis is one of the most wonderful human beings I have ever had the privilege to have met. Happy Birthday, Phyllis. I hope you receive the gift I mailed to you on Monday.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, later today, I hope to get the call that Cynthia will be done, and I will drive back to Conway in the dealership loaner car (a fabulous 2023 Subaru.. so nice!) and give them my debit card to pay the thousands of dollars I will owe for the services rendered, and drive home again. Tomorrow, back to work at 8 am sharp! Go go go, Kate!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As Dad used to say to me all the time, &quot;Good Kate!&quot;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/378351314883189403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=378351314883189403&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/378351314883189403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/378351314883189403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2024/05/cynthia-and-dad-and-phyllis-and-subaru.html' title='Cynthia and Dad and Phyllis and The Subaru'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-5230032861350940464</id><published>2023-12-31T10:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2023-12-31T10:34:04.075-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy New Year"/><title type='text'>Last Post of 2023</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Hey, look - I&#39;m back again. One more post before the end of 2023 - what do ya say, eh?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, Verdant Dude still hasn&#39;t followed me back on Xwitter. Surely because he doesn&#39;t realize that I&#39;m his old pal &quot;Sleepy&quot; from this good ol&#39; Blogger. Meh, oh well. Maybe someday I&#39;ll send him a DM there.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think I have snapped out of my ennui. Do I miss my dead parents? The way we used to gather for the holidays? Those golden days? The chaos, the laughs, the occasional rifts and disagreements? The stress of pulling things all together so everyone is gratified? The traveling and planning? The worry and the angst?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;You bet I do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But, the older I get, the more I come to terms with the FACT that not one of us gets out of this alive. And, that we all die alone. I probably dwell on that a little &lt;i&gt;too&lt;/i&gt; much.. but, what can I say? I was on a roll there, for a while, with the whole &quot;Swedish Death Cleaning&quot; trip (without knowing that that was what I was doing.) But, the last year or two, I&#39;ve eased up on the tossing of things.. and well, now that we are rolling into a new year, I feel the urge to get back at it again. I cringe thinking about leaving all of my mess in the hands of my younger brother, who will surely outlive me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have sorted mom and dad&#39;s papers and stuff in bins, and they are labeled. It&#39;s not perfect, but it&#39;s pretty well sorted. I&#39;m proud of that task completed last year. But, I still have a lot of fucking stuff. Maybe not like, at hoarding level, but.. what will my brother do with my basket of Breyer horses? My two or three bins of assorted small toys and mementos? My suitcases of old journals? My files of more writings (pretty bad writing, at that.) I did go through my old college papers and eliminate most of those.. gawd, that was terrible writing on my part. I really sucked at academia.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is it time for me to finally let go of more stuff? Before I get too old and sick to deal with it? Yes. I think it is. Go, Kate, go! DO IT!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, happy new year to me. Because, I&#39;m sure NOBODY is reading this post! HA!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;LOVE YA ANYWAY, NOBODY!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We were promised the sun today, after days and days and days of rain and clouds, but it&#39;s still overcast, and that&#39;s really pissing us off. Soon, we will venture out for a short trip to town to pick up a couple of things. I plan to make a batch of Split Pea soup, because we have left over ham from our humble Christmas meal, and, plus.. we&#39;re strange. We love it. PEA SOUP IS GOOD.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;m relived to NOT have a gig tonight! Even though the weather is agreeable (no snow or ice), I have never been a fan of &quot;working&quot; on New Year&#39;s Eve (though, usually the pay is better..)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just as well to stay home. Watch the hip hop and the ball drop and get buzzed up and then slink off to our cozy bed. Works for me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/5230032861350940464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=5230032861350940464&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5230032861350940464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5230032861350940464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2023/12/last-post-of-2023.html' title='Last Post of 2023'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-7140822101385494567</id><published>2023-12-16T11:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2023-12-16T11:03:23.690-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Barfly"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blog"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="christmas"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><title type='text'>Here Again</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;It&#39;s a Saturday, December 16, 2023. I sure do miss this place, Blogger. I was scrolling through Twitter (aka X) the other night, reading a short thread by a writer out of Boston that I follow, when who did I see leave a comment on that thread but the very recognizable name and profile pic of &lt;a href=&quot;http://beearl.blogspot.com&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;Verdant Dude&lt;/a&gt;. I couldn&#39;t believe.. I knew it had to be the same guy from Blogger. I went to his profile and it checked out, so I hit the follow button. He hasn&#39;t followed back, though. Oh well. We will always have Blogger circa 2011.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;With Christmas just around the corner, I once again slide into that feeling of ennui, which is defined as &quot;a feeling of listlessness and dissatisfaction arising from a lack of occupation or excitement.&quot; I&#39;m 58 and my parents are dead. I have no children, my siblings are 3 hours away. And actually, that&#39;s okay, to not have to worry about other people too much. Selfish, maybe. So often I am reminded of the line that Micky Rourke slurs out to Faye Dunaway in the movie Barfly, when she asks him if he likes people, and he replies, &quot;yea, I like people.. but I seem to like them a lot better when they&#39;re not around.&quot;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now that I&#39;m back in retail, I&#39;m around people a lot again. And, you know, I don&#39;t mind it &lt;i&gt;that&lt;/i&gt; much, but it sure is a relief to clock out after the shift and get home to my man and my cat. Just us three. Only our problems to deal with. Selfish? Maybe.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I do as much as I can to contribute to other peoples shit. I wish I could be one of those amazing angels that do so much good! The big stuff! Doctoring, solving the Big Problems, canvassing and organizing! Ah, to be that amaze-balls~&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I do the little things.. I am the gluer. I compliment, I listen and I help, in my small ways. Occasionally, I give financially, but truly, not that often, because I barely get by as it is.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway. Tonight we play a gig. And, as usual, I have anxiety about getting through the night without catching Covid or running into a deer prancing across the road.. you know, the usual.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Wish us luck, though, I&#39;m sure it will all be fine.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hope to come back soon, Blogger. These were the good ol&#39; days.&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/7140822101385494567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=7140822101385494567&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7140822101385494567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7140822101385494567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2023/12/here-again.html' title='Here Again'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-6615360399899244591</id><published>2023-05-12T07:56:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2023-05-12T07:56:56.826-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom"/><title type='text'>A Moment I Remember</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Twelve years ago today. Seven in the morning. Laying in bed, sleeping light. Troubled. Mom was dying. She had been in hospice for eleven days, morphine for the pains, dying. Dad had decided, at the last minute, the day before, to go and stay overnight in the room with her. I lay troubled, my head a dull ache from tears and too much wine a few hours earlier. It was early May, the morning sun was filtering through the black curtains and the sound of Don&#39;s soft breathing was comforting. I was in limbo. Waiting. Present.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then, I knew what it was. My phone, laying on the bedside table, rang. Don woke. I reached over and saw it was Dad calling.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&quot;Hi Dad.&quot;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&quot;Kate? Your mommy is gone. She died, Kate. I can&#39;t believe it.&quot;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The words I had been anticipating for weeks were now out. They had been said, and there was no taking them back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The first version of his story was shared, preliminary plans for the next few hours were made, and the phone call ended after a few minutes. My vision blurry from tears and my face wet, I lay on my back for a few minutes, absorbing the shock of the news, and closed my eyes to black.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My mother had died. My father was with her, numb and in disbelief. I had to get up and drive to him, to be with him, to help him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;But first, I lay on my back, my head cradled by pillows, in the comfort of my bed. Like the womb that I came from. My mother.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/6615360399899244591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=6615360399899244591&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/6615360399899244591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/6615360399899244591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2023/05/a-moment-i-remember.html' title='A Moment I Remember'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-2838931858738886772</id><published>2021-10-18T14:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2021-10-18T14:45:21.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Short Essay</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;A short essay my father wrote for an English class in high school. He graduated in 1946. In the summers, he worked in his father&#39;s apple orchard, which was behind their house in Westford,&amp;nbsp;Massachusetts. I&#39;ve copied his handwriting as closely as possible. At the top of the page, it was graded in a faded red pencil with a B+. It&#39;s a cute story, I think!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;An Unlucky Day by M. Seavey&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&quot;Oh, what a beautiful morning,&quot; I thought as I skipped merrily down to my farm work one bright summers day of August. I joyfully did my chores, loaded the trailer with the apple boxes, and got in the tractor. Singing lustily, I stepped on the starter, &lt;u&gt;but&lt;/u&gt;, the starter would not step. With my spirits still high, I hopped out of the tractor and began to crank it,&lt;u&gt; but&lt;/u&gt;, the crank would not budge. With my spirits decreasing, I gave the starter a few whacks and again got in the B-17, as we call the tractor, and stepped on its starter, &lt;u&gt;but&lt;/u&gt;, the starter would not step. With my spirits at a low ebb, I grabbed all the wrenches within my reach and commenced to take the stubborn starter apart. In about three quarters of one hour, I thought I had the thing fixed. I jumped in the bomber again, &lt;u&gt;and&lt;/u&gt;, ah, the starter stepped and the engine began to churn. Making a deafening roar, the B-17 pulled out of the barn and lumbered down to the orchards. As I was rumbling down over a hill, the usual backfires turned into an explosion which rocked the bomber and smoke began to pour from her dirty engine. B-17 coasted silently down the hill and stopped. &quot;What&#39;s the matter with the thing now,&quot; I asked myself as I lifted the hood and peered in at the smoking engine, or what was an engine. Disgustedly, I slammed down the hood and trudged doggedly back to the barn. Well, I had to borrow a neighbor&#39;s truck that ran, for the rest of the day. I got down to the apple picking about two hours after I had come to work. But my troubles were not yet over, for when I was at the top of the 26 foot ladder, I reached out for the last dangling red apple on the limb. My fingers touched it, &lt;u&gt;and,&lt;/u&gt;&amp;nbsp;slip, snap, crash, slush I found myself stuck in a box full of rotten apples. The ladder was divided across the borrowed truck. No words could express my fuming anger.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I could go on and tell you about more unlucky things that happened to me that dreadful day, but I hate to be reminded of them. So, a moral of this story could be, &quot;NEVER be overconfident.&quot;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/2838931858738886772/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=2838931858738886772&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/2838931858738886772'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/2838931858738886772'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2021/10/a-short-essay-my-father-wrote-for.html' title='A Short Essay'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-1734638655070066020</id><published>2021-10-18T13:17:00.040-04:00</published><updated>2021-10-18T13:32:35.881-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom&#xa;dad&#xa;letters&#xa;love"/><title type='text'>Love Note</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;i&gt;One of many notes my mother wrote to my father when they were dating, 1963 or 64. It&#39;s beautiful.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My dearest Marden,&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Perhaps you are not, and will never &lt;u&gt;be&lt;/u&gt;, the shining image of success that some wish to be. But, in my honest and quite perspective glance and appraisal, I esteem you as a man who &lt;i&gt;feels&lt;/i&gt; &lt;i&gt;correctly&lt;/i&gt;, who estimates situations with a sensitivity that stirs me; I love your sensitive body as well, the &quot;Gestalt&quot; of your sensuous mind/body complex that emanates into a total whole of warmth, kindness, and love. Very few men have captured the quality of waiting warmth you&#39;ve got - rather a mixture of patient humor and warm impetuosity. Do not feel small or unworthy. Every time you comfort me, understand me, you have grown, and have helped &lt;u&gt;me&lt;/u&gt; grow. That is the finest thing a man can do.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It is fantastic - love. It keeps recurring, doesn&#39;t it? At times my thoughts of you are those of security, placid happiness and pleasure that you&#39;re there. But, at other times, as now, my thoughts of you are of absolute necessity, &lt;u&gt;&lt;i&gt;vital&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/u&gt; in their insistence; so that I am almost helpless because of the coldness without you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/1734638655070066020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=1734638655070066020&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/1734638655070066020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/1734638655070066020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2021/10/love-notes.html' title='Love Note'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-466667249608054998</id><published>2021-06-06T15:31:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2021-06-06T15:31:58.673-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cat"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spooky"/><title type='text'>R.I.P. Spooky</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Just read my last post from a few weeks ago.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I finally made the call and we brought Spooky to our wonderful veterinary hospital on May 14, 2021. She was so weak, I just picked her up and held her in my lap as Don drove us over. She was so ready. I was sad, but more relieved to have her out of pain. We brought her body home in a box and buried her little fuzzy corpse wrapped in a white sheet in a deep hole Don had dug the afternoon before. I found a sweet little poem about losing a cat, which I quickly read through tears, and then we covered her up. Found a piece of slate to mark her grave. Gone but never forgotten. My sweet Spook-A-Boots.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBK7CA_xR1uQqdPr-btb3nQy-M5qEHp_KCuEFniwuqkUijVmTssHPUdRU4Jrl5MwfgrJZQFiwVeDnvEPKbnDiQQIQVhj2ArRWTgPvsI01s96E6bKEZMDd6LyZqKwbkBUfDNPti7g/s2048/4565818382_676488c8f9_o.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;1536&quot; data-original-width=&quot;2048&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBK7CA_xR1uQqdPr-btb3nQy-M5qEHp_KCuEFniwuqkUijVmTssHPUdRU4Jrl5MwfgrJZQFiwVeDnvEPKbnDiQQIQVhj2ArRWTgPvsI01s96E6bKEZMDd6LyZqKwbkBUfDNPti7g/w400-h300/4565818382_676488c8f9_o.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/466667249608054998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=466667249608054998&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/466667249608054998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/466667249608054998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2021/06/rip-spooky.html' title='R.I.P. Spooky'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBK7CA_xR1uQqdPr-btb3nQy-M5qEHp_KCuEFniwuqkUijVmTssHPUdRU4Jrl5MwfgrJZQFiwVeDnvEPKbnDiQQIQVhj2ArRWTgPvsI01s96E6bKEZMDd6LyZqKwbkBUfDNPti7g/s72-w400-h300-c/4565818382_676488c8f9_o.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-243490551640904731</id><published>2021-05-12T12:58:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2021-05-12T12:59:29.799-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="loss"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="mom"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spooky"/><title type='text'>Lot&#39;s Of Loss</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;Been so distracted with things lately, I only just now remembered that today is the 10 year anniversary of Mom&#39;s death. I really can&#39;t believe it. Ten years! And now, Dad&#39;s gone, too. Almost 3 months since he&#39;s died. GAWD! It&#39;s been so weird without them, especially with Dad. I miss him so much.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKG5CCVUtPKgYDjzRe-MlTXpvgHMDgbMXeieLS5octjxH-Dlr2_0dvdmqzC6eGm5o7YuFR_0shq5zuFk1fzzVnneaj5FlW8vYokPA78gDBLzXe4KYsf7jMvEKLpsDon5EiJn4enQ/s1024/6260432700_6c73ebd171_b.jpg&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;768&quot; data-original-width=&quot;1024&quot; height=&quot;275&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKG5CCVUtPKgYDjzRe-MlTXpvgHMDgbMXeieLS5octjxH-Dlr2_0dvdmqzC6eGm5o7YuFR_0shq5zuFk1fzzVnneaj5FlW8vYokPA78gDBLzXe4KYsf7jMvEKLpsDon5EiJn4enQ/w400-h275/6260432700_6c73ebd171_b.jpg&quot; width=&quot;400&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It&#39;s been a crazy few months, year, really. Trying to get back into action. Have had plenty of setbacks. Had one of my wisdom teeth extracted yesterday, after a couple of weeks of agitation. Got my second Moderna Covid 19 vaccine a week ago today. I had terrible side effects that night and all the next day. It had been so long since I&#39;ve felt sick. Chills and body aches, a sore arm, lethargy. And my gums were throbbing from the sad little wisdom tooth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ah. All of that is thankfully behind me now. Next? Time to muster up the gumption to call the vet and make an appointment to have our dear Spooky euthanized. She&#39;s kind of miserable these days. She has only been pooping once every few days, and she pees a lot, mostly on the newspaper an old sheets I have put down on top of her special bed in the corner of the living room. She won&#39;t use the litter box anymore. So, this last week, I&#39;ve been changing out her bedding about 5 times a day. Her appetite is waining, too. So, it&#39;s time. Just got to do it. And I don&#39;t want to do it. But, it must be done. Kind of like when I had to agree to get my wisdom tooth pulled. Just got to do it, and it turned out to be not as bad as I imagined it would be.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Though, Spooky has been with us since June 17, 2007. Which was a Sunday, Father&#39;s Day. And, she&#39;s the sweetest little thing. But loud. Her meow is wretched. And, it&#39;s become worse. I think she might be partially deaf and blind now, too. Oh GAWD, just got to do it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So. There has been A LOT of loss for me lately. I miss by friend Wally a lot, too. I&#39;m so bummed that he died. I can still hear his voice. It&#39;s going to be so strange to play gigs without him there in the audience.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A lot of loss.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And I still have SO much I have to do. Get going Kate. Go. Do it! GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/243490551640904731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=243490551640904731&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/243490551640904731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/243490551640904731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2021/05/lots-of-loss.html' title='Lot&#39;s Of Loss'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKG5CCVUtPKgYDjzRe-MlTXpvgHMDgbMXeieLS5octjxH-Dlr2_0dvdmqzC6eGm5o7YuFR_0shq5zuFk1fzzVnneaj5FlW8vYokPA78gDBLzXe4KYsf7jMvEKLpsDon5EiJn4enQ/s72-w400-h275-c/6260432700_6c73ebd171_b.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-5618224844833899542</id><published>2020-12-03T19:28:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2020-12-03T19:32:09.973-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pheobe bridgers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tiny Desk Concert"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="video"/><title type='text'>Phoebe Bridgers: Tiny Desk (Home) Concert - *flawless vocals *** </title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;270&quot; src=&quot;https://www.youtube.com/embed/2bOigld3D1k&quot; width=&quot;480&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&amp;nbsp;8:10</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/5618224844833899542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=5618224844833899542&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5618224844833899542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5618224844833899542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/12/phoebe-bridgers-tiny-desk-home-concert.html' title='Phoebe Bridgers: Tiny Desk (Home) Concert - *flawless vocals *** '/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/2bOigld3D1k/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-7147725449957139322</id><published>2020-11-18T19:54:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2020-11-18T19:57:56.587-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="music"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pheobe bridgers"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="video"/><title type='text'>Phoebe Bridgers - I Know the End (Official Video)</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;270&quot; src=&quot;https://www.youtube.com/embed/WJ9-xN6dCW4&quot; width=&quot;480&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div&gt;Totally in love with this song and this musician, Miss Phoebe Bridgers.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/7147725449957139322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=7147725449957139322&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7147725449957139322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7147725449957139322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/11/phoebe-bridgers-i-know-end-official.html' title='Phoebe Bridgers - I Know the End (Official Video)'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/WJ9-xN6dCW4/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-6970748555870468011</id><published>2020-11-18T12:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2020-11-18T12:52:48.716-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adult&#xa;problems"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><title type='text'>Hold On</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Mardy agreed to the transfer to the assisted living apartment. He still has some misgivings, which is understandable, but we all think it&#39;s for the best to do it now before he becomes even more frail.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Covid factor, of course, makes the process and outcome all that much more challenging. I am doing my best to remain calm. One might even say, adult. Ha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After the weekend Zoom meeting with the family, minus Himself, we agreed that it would be me to make the proposal. Monday, he had had several visitors so Phyllis advised against me saying anything that night.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, yesterday morning, after a sleepless night of sleeping on it, I ended up writing him an email about the idea, listing the pros and cons. Later in the afternoon, he responded and agreed that it did seem like a good idea.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;After that, I emailed the director of admissions at the assisted living facility, letting her know things are looking like a go. I called Dad around 4:30, and he was defiantly a bit aggravated and annoyed, but mostly because he was suffering from pain in his bottom. Phyllis was still out doing grocery shopping (she&#39;s been going every Tuesday and doing his light food shopping, as well), so I think he was distressed that she wasn&#39;t there, too. He expressed concern about losing the assistance of the home health aid, Tracy, who he absolutely loves. She apparently is the best bather he has ever had in his life, and he doesn&#39;t want to give her up. But, in the whole, he seems to have warmed up to the idea. I told him I would ask the hospice team to be sure that they would all still be working with him after the move.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then, I emailed the social worker to fill her in, and this morning she replied with the good news that, yes, the hospice team would stay the same and still be working with him. She&#39;s going to call me in a little while to run over a few more things.. one being that his insurance will not be renewed in 2021. Typical bullshit. Well, I guess they are changing it or something, in light of him being closer to dying. Assholes.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, so much to worry about and arrange and plan and execute now. I am not allowed in to see the apartment, so that will be a challenge to know how much of his furniture and stuff we can get over there for him. Plus, I won&#39;t be there to help arrange.. arg. So frustrating. I plan to drive up on Friday, and at the very least, I&#39;ll be able to look into the windows from outside and get a sense of the space. Before I leave from visiting with him, I&#39;ll grab a few things that I know he won&#39;t be bringing to the new place with him. I&#39;ll bring the roller with me, I guess.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This sucks. Just saying. But, once he&#39;s all moved, and we can empty out his apartment, and get the rest of the stuff that won&#39;t be going with him somewhere (some in our barn, I guess), it will be a relief to know that he will be more closely monitored. Poor guy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The vaccines can&#39;t get here soon enough! And, come on January 20, 2021!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Hold on, people. Hold on.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/6970748555870468011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=6970748555870468011&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/6970748555870468011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/6970748555870468011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/11/hold-on.html' title='Hold On'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-3607240632728362308</id><published>2020-11-14T13:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2020-11-14T13:25:19.289-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Covid"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dream"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recording"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="video"/><title type='text'>Party At My House Dream &amp; Other Stuff</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;This morning, I woke up from a dream that struck me as funny and poignant. In the dream, Don and I hosted a party at our house! An odd assortment of friends and acquaintances were here - Eric Green, a musician from up north who I have only met a few times. Paul Rishell and Annie Raines were here.. I remember seeing them heading down into our basement with gear to play music. Krank was holding court in the kitchen, serving a strange combination of hot dogs and cannolis on a silver platter, cracking jokes and making everybody laugh. A few nice, young women who I didn&#39;t really know where sitting outside on our back patio area. That&#39;s most of the dream. I just thought it was interesting, because though I&#39;m not much of a party lover these days, it is clear to me that this social isolation is getting to me!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, it was better then waking up from a few dreams I had last month where I was threatened by bad guys trying to kill me in enclosed spaces. Classic stress dreams there.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;What a difficult time it&#39;s been. With Dad, Covid-19, the election (though, I couldn&#39;t be more relieved that Biden - Harris won.) These next 67 Lame Duck days are nerve wracking. Today, a bunch of Magats are having a rally in D.C. They all think that the election was &quot;stolen.&quot; Total insanity. Every time Biden comes on the television to speak, it&#39;s so reassuring. I can&#39;t wait for January 20, 2021. Can&#39;t come soon enough.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dad is declining. Just had a Zoom call with Team Mardy. We may have to convince him to transfer over to the assisted living facility next door to his apartment. We&#39;ve got a studio unit on the first floor right next to the dining hall on hold for us until Monday. We need to bring it up with him tomorrow morning and see how he responds. But, it is getting to the point where we are all worried about his safety and comfort. He&#39;s been sleeping a lot, and getting fuzzy in the mind. He complains that talking is tiring.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So sad. Mardy has been a rock for all of us our whole lives. I&#39;ve never done anything wrong in his eyes. I&#39;ll never get used to not having him there to talk to. Sucks.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Blessedly, Phyllis, Nat, Clarissa and I are all on the same page and get along wonderfully. I feel so lucky that there is no discourse between us. And, Don, of course, has been immeasurably, unequivocally there for me. He has encouraged me to compartmentalize the various worries I am experiencing, and that has been helpful to remind myself to do. Paying the bills, keeping us fed and the house up, caring for the cats, dealing with the cars. All that. It&#39;s getting done, somehow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One fun distraction has been recording. Don purchased an interface so that we could use live instruments and microphones to record onto my lap top Garage Band app. On Monday this week, we started tracking a new song of mine. It&#39;s been the learning song. Every afternoon last week, we did a little more on the song. It&#39;s kind of a long, slow song, but it&#39;s been really enlightening and I&#39;m getting really excited about the final result. It&#39;s pretty much down to finishing up the mix now, exporting it, and then we are going to make a video for it. We both pretty much have determined that the only way to get people to listen to your original song is to have a video for it. Hopefully, we will get it done this week.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, there&#39;s all that. I miss my pals and I wish this fucking virus was gone! And I wish some of the citizens of this country were not such fucking cunts. Selfish brats, not wearing masks. Traveling. It&#39;s really unbelievable how stupid and ignorant some people are. Americans can be so ugh.. If EVERYBODY in this country had just adhered to the guidelines and thought about other people instead of themselves, we wouldn&#39;t be having this insane surge right now in this country! So frustrating.&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/3607240632728362308/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=3607240632728362308&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/3607240632728362308'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/3607240632728362308'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/11/party-at-my-house-dream-other-stuff.html' title='Party At My House Dream &amp; Other Stuff'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-493397728815734967</id><published>2020-10-04T14:28:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2020-10-04T14:28:33.849-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adult&#xa;problems"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hospice"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="hospital"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="trees"/><title type='text'>Adulting Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I&#39;ve checked 2 of the 5 things off my list. I&#39;m very proud of myself.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ha ha.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I was really pleased with the tree guy. At first, I was set on calling the big company out of Naples called The Q Team. They are really terrific, but very expensive. I finally worked up the courage to call them one afternoon, and they just a had message saying that they were super busy and that it might take a while for them to get back to customers. I mean, great for them, but not for me. I hung up without leaving a message and thought about it a little more. Then, I remembered that last year, when I worked at the store, one of my regular customers who I&#39;ve known for years and years, had given me the business card for the arborist that he works for. I dug out the card and once again, mustered up the courage to dial the number. But, before I did that, I checked out his business Facebook page and his personal page. I got a really good feeling about the guy. He seemed super nice. And, I was pretty sure from the posts I saw, he does NOT support the Orange Buffoon.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, I left a quick message, and later that day, he actually called me back! He sounded really pleasant, and we arranged for him to come by two days later to check out what I needed done and to give me a quote. He came by around 3:30, gave a very reasonable quote and said he would get in touch with me sometime in November to schedule a day to do it. I was so excited and happy to get that set up! The Q Team would have quoted probably three times the amount that this guy quoted me. Relief! I know he&#39;ll do a great job, plus I&#39;ll get to see my friend Dave from the store, who works with him. I haven&#39;t seen Dave since I stopped working at the store in the middle of March!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know, I&#39;m weird.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, finally, I left my chimney sweep a message a few days ago, and he returned my call the next night (sometimes it takes him much longer to get back to me.) So, now we&#39;re scheduled to have the creosote scrubbed on November 4. The day after the most important day of the year. I wonder what I will be feeling on that day? It&#39;s almost too much to think about.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, not bad. Considering, since then, Mardy spent two nights in the hospital after falling in his kitchen last Monday morning. The result of that trip has ended with coming to the difficult decision to officially have Mardy in Hospice care. He&#39;s home in his apartment, and he&#39;s feeling okay, for now. Unfortunately, there is simply nothing left that can be done in regards to his heart. So, he agreed that the best thing was to receive comfort care from here on out. He&#39;s actually really enjoyed the extra attention he&#39;s received this week. He was especially pleased with his first shower in weeks with the assistance from a Home Health aide that came by on Friday! His spirits are good, and we are all preparing for the end, slowly.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A few tears, a few laughs, some deep breaths and a lot of &quot;I Love You&#39;s.&quot;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/493397728815734967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=493397728815734967&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/493397728815734967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/493397728815734967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/10/adulting-update.html' title='Adulting Update'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-4599679948728963724</id><published>2020-09-15T18:55:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2020-09-15T18:55:09.830-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adult&#xa;problems"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life. cat&#xa;sick cat"/><title type='text'>Adulting</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;It&#39;s been such a struggle to be an adult lately. Like the last six months or so?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;ve got to call the dealer about bringing in the Subaru for an airbag recall.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;ve got to call the chimney sweeper to get the annual cleaning for this winters burning season.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;ve got to call the tree company and see if I can get a quote I can afford to have some branches trimmed back, maybe even a tree pulled down, that&#39;s hovering uncomfortably over the chimney.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;ve got to call the vet and make an appointment to have Spooky euthanized. She&#39;s sick, and peeing on the furniture, and it&#39;s super stressful. (YET - she&#39;s still eating, drinking, pooping and, well, peeing. On my couch. Nothing a big old ugly tarp can&#39;t stop, but still.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;d like to get to some more weed, just to have on hand for the winter. I really don&#39;t smoke a lot, but I panic when I&#39;m out.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;All of these things, so simple. But, so overwhelming for me right now.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Sigh.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;ll get that shit done. AT some point.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/4599679948728963724/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=4599679948728963724&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/4599679948728963724'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/4599679948728963724'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/09/adulting.html' title='Adulting'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-7245886366683101129</id><published>2020-09-13T18:45:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2020-09-13T18:45:51.786-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gigs&#xa;boston&#xa;cambridge&#xa;music"/><title type='text'>Big Names, Small Clubs</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Don &amp;amp; I got talking tonight about seeing music live.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We both agreed that to see a big name musician, even before he or she might have hit it &quot;big,&quot; was way cooler if you got to see the show in a smaller venue. Maybe it&#39;s the side effects of the Covid-19 Global Pandemic swooping our vibes, but either way, we began to reflect on some favorite small venue moments.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I started giving examples of shows that stuck with me.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Like, Bela Fleck &amp;amp; The Flecktones at Nightstage in Cambridge, Ma. And The Jerry Garcia Band in a small room in Berkley, California (where I was able to stand right in front of Jerry - and I swear to Golly that he looked me right in the eye at one point and smiled.. the opening act that night was .. ugh, I can&#39;t remember right now. I&#39;ll edit when it comes back to me. * Quick Silver Messenger Service !)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When I lived in Northampton, Ma, I was in a small lounge called &quot;L&#39; Oassis&quot; when I witnessed &quot;Treat Her Right&quot; (featuring Mark Sandman, who went on to become a global rock star with his band, Morphine) and the very early days of local guitarist J Mascis and his little band, Dinosaur Jr. When I saw them, they were actually just &quot;Dinosaur,&quot; before the famous California band Dinosaur brought them to court and forced them to change their name to Dinosaur Jr.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Those Western Mass days exposed me to other enlightening evenings in small venues with artists like Buddy Guy, 10,0000 Maniacs, Albert Collins, Susanna Vega, Johnny Winter &amp;amp; this other guy whose name I&#39;m totally not remembering and it&#39;s driving me crazy. Will update if it comes back to me..&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Soon Don was reminded of some the big time artists he witnessed in small venues in his lifetime.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When he was a kid in Indiana, at The Beach Ball Room, he saw The Who, with KEITH MOON on drums.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The Yardbirds, with JIMMY FUCKING PAGE on bass and JEFF BECK on guitar.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Also, IRON BUTTERFLY, CHICAGO &amp;amp; The Lovin&#39; Spoonful, and Steve Winwood (with his old band.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Just after they released the hit single 96 TEARS, he saw ? Mark &amp;amp; The Mysterians at a block party ( in Indiana.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He saw SAM THE SHAM &amp;amp; THE PHAROAHs in a basketball court in Indiana.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He saw BB KING and THE BEACH BOYS at Purdue University Theater.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And, so very bizarrely, he saw The Grateful Dead at the Student Center Cafeteria at Purdue University in 1967 or 68. His friend was doing the light show for the band.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When Don moved to the east coast when he was in his early 20&#39;s, he saw a bunch of amazing acts in small venues.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Bob Marley &amp;amp; The Wailers with Toots &amp;amp; The Maytalls at Palls Mall.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;James Brown at The Channell in Boston. He didn&#39;t go on stage until 2:00 a.m. That was when the club was supposed to close.. a while later, when Don&#39;s juggling act opened up for Blood, Sweat &amp;amp; Tears in a club somewhere that he couldn&#39;t remember where, he met a man who had booked JB at The Channel. Don had a conversation with that guy and told him about seeing JB at 2:00 a.m. at the Chanell and the man explained to Don that the reason why JB didn&#39;t go on until 2 in the morning was because his contract required him to get paid his fee - 10 grand in cash - before he would walk on stage.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Later, Don saw James Brown at Johnathan Swifts. Johnathan Swifts was a much smaller club then The Channel, in Harvard Square, Cambridge. Apparently, JB played one song on a B3 organ, which took up most of the stage, so the night he saw them, the 3 back up singers where standing in the hallway on the wy to the bathrooms, unseen by the audience.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He sat on the stage and saw MILES DAVIS at the Jazz Workshop in Boston.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Also with his juggling act, he opened up for Sha Na Na at the Worcester Centrum. They also opened up for The Bay City Rollers somewhere in Boston.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He saw DEVO at The Paradise the night before they played on Saturday Night Live and played their version of the Rolling Stones song &quot;Satisfaction.&quot;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He saw The Talking Heads and The B52&#39;s at The Berkley Performance Center in Boston.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;He saw The Specials and The English Beat at a club on Landsdown Street in Boston, and then later saw the combined act The Special Beat.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And, he saw THE CRAMPS at The Channel THREE TIMES on NEW YEAR&#39;s EVE!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I&#39;m sure there is more for both of us, but I wanted to write this stuff down, and I&#39;m sharing it all here, on my blog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/7245886366683101129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=7245886366683101129&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7245886366683101129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7245886366683101129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/09/big-names-small-clubs.html' title='Big Names, Small Clubs'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-5023440252062586461</id><published>2020-09-04T19:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2020-09-04T19:07:31.910-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Video</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&amp;nbsp;https://www.facebook.com/100012872688102/videos/1010161446089602/?extid=3poYpqF59yIorLxR&lt;/p&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/5023440252062586461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=5023440252062586461&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5023440252062586461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5023440252062586461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/09/video.html' title='Video'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-7004275240702617864</id><published>2020-07-10T12:01:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2020-08-18T10:23:10.083-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="aging"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="america"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="election"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="food"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="market"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="politics"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="questions"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shopping"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="smells"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="television"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thoughts"/><title type='text'>Who Knows?</title><content type='html'>Hmm. Well, here I am again. Guess it&#39;s been a while. Been in a writing rut. What can I say. Not sure why. So, I&#39;m making myself sit here and write a post. Don is on a conference call. When he&#39;s done and ready to step away from his office, we are going to drive down to market and shop. It&#39;s been two whole weeks since we&#39;ve gone! Not bad. Hated to wait until today, a Friday afternoon. We dread the throngs of vacationers clogging up the aisles and loading up their shopping carts. Maybe we will get lucky, who knows? It&#39;s the second day of steamy, humid heat, and so we will hope that most of &quot;them&quot; will already be at their camps, floating in their rafts or zooming around in their fancy boats on a lake. Perhaps they were wise and brought coolers full of food from their home state. Who knows? Who knows. Pretty much the sentiment of the summer, hasn&#39;t it? Who knows? We don&#39;t know how long we have to live in isolation and caution. We don&#39;t know if we will be able to make ends meet financially. We don&#39;t know if we will catch the virus, get sick and die alone in a hospital. Who knows? Don&#39;t know when I&#39;ll see my family members again in person. Don&#39;t know if we&#39;ll ever play a gig in a bar again. Don&#39;t know how many of our friends will die from the virus. Who knows? We pray 45 will get beat badly by the good guys and gals. We hope he goes to prison for all of his crimes. We hope he will pay for his shameful deceits and woeful inadequate leadership. We hope our planet will survive, too. Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;
  2. &lt;br /&gt;
  3. I&#39;m hungry. Lately, I&#39;ve been reminded of a simple thing from my childhood. It would be a Saturday, usually. Mom would be off of meal duty, and we were all left to feed ourselves, if we were hungry. There would be a smell coming from the stove top. Two hot dogs, frying up in a small pan. Dad would pour himself a beer into a glass, and turn on the television. Candlepin bowling. Soothing sounds of balls rolling down the lanes, the crack of the balls hitting the pins, the cheer from the audience, the calm voices of the announcers. Dad would sit at the table and eat his two fried hot dogs and drink his beer, throughly content, watching the match. &lt;br /&gt;
  4. &lt;br /&gt;
  5. &lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&quot;&quot; frameborder=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;344&quot; src=&quot;https://www.youtube.com/embed/7-t19DvQ0MM&quot; width=&quot;459&quot;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/7004275240702617864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=7004275240702617864&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7004275240702617864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/7004275240702617864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/07/who-knows_10.html' title='Who Knows?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://img.youtube.com/vi/7-t19DvQ0MM/default.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-776518109731900684</id><published>2020-04-28T12:33:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-28T12:33:51.553-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="market"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shopping"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thoughts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing"/><title type='text'>&quot;Recalculating&quot; </title><content type='html'>It just took me about an hour to write a sympathy card. Like, three lines? I kept thinking I could do it free-form and ended up tearing up about 8 cards.&lt;br /&gt;
  6. &lt;br /&gt;
  7. Of course, you spend all that time and angst trying to find the perfect words to write, knowing full well that the recipient will read it once and then either put it in a pile or toss it. Ah well, it&#39;s the thought that counts, as they say.&lt;br /&gt;
  8. &lt;br /&gt;
  9. I&#39;ve had a sore back for a few days. It happens when I lay on my back in bed and one of the cats decides to curl on on my chest. Which I enjoy, but sometimes the weight messes things up and bang - can&#39;t move comfortably for the next few days. Agony.&lt;br /&gt;
  10. &lt;br /&gt;
  11. Still not fully adjusted to isolation life. I take comfort in knowing I am not alone. Am in awe of the folks out there that seem to be thriving with the extra time. Writing, drawing, creating. I&#39;ve had spurts of productivity, but then I get stunted and go back to doing nothing of value.&lt;br /&gt;
  12. &lt;br /&gt;
  13. Though, two days ago, I did manage to mop the kitchen floor. That was a biggie. Been wanting to do that for months!&lt;br /&gt;
  14. &lt;br /&gt;
  15. Don&#39;s routine hasn&#39;t changed too much, except for not having any gigs. He&#39;s even used to having me around, as it was only one year ago that I started working part time at the market.&lt;br /&gt;
  16. &lt;br /&gt;
  17. I sure do miss working. I really liked the job. Hoping to get back to it someday. Just so much uncertainty with this damn plague.&lt;br /&gt;
  18. &lt;br /&gt;
  19. What a time to be living through.&lt;br /&gt;
  20. &lt;br /&gt;
  21. I call Dad every day around 4:45. We chat for 5 or 10 minutes, sometimes longer. He&#39;s been a trooper through all of this. I hope to be able to see him in person again someday. We&#39;ve used Face Time a few times and Zoom - but, it&#39;s still not the same.&lt;br /&gt;
  22. &lt;br /&gt;
  23. Later this afternoon, Don and I are going to take a ride to the middle of town, where there is a goat farm that has a farm stand. Haven&#39;t been there yet, but I&#39;ve been following them on Face Book and they sell goat cheese, goat milk, eggs and home made bread and other things like that. Looking forward to seeing what we can pick up. May also stop at the other farm stand closer to home and pick up some spinach, if they have any left.&lt;br /&gt;
  24. &lt;br /&gt;
  25. Well, that&#39;s all I&#39;ve got for now. Sorry I&#39;ve been such a shitty friend lately.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/776518109731900684/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=776518109731900684&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/776518109731900684'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/776518109731900684'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/recalculating.html' title='&quot;Recalculating&quot; '/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-1494854544927833925</id><published>2020-04-22T17:40:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-22T17:40:42.196-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="america"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="election"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="questions"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="twitter"/><title type='text'>Just For The Record</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  26. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInDWrk35qv0E7o4uHNkbRK_VqX-iY47SKA_h4H8NCoM3wyR1MKNYaCQ7X5GwX-TlOtYm15Av8H9do5zFYSn16nPV8hzY4qpZl49XdlskgG8iGOp8m7rf-uAu1vLpyZkKDbiSqTQ/s1600/49779577423_a2a5a38131_h.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;1334&quot; data-original-width=&quot;750&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInDWrk35qv0E7o4uHNkbRK_VqX-iY47SKA_h4H8NCoM3wyR1MKNYaCQ7X5GwX-TlOtYm15Av8H9do5zFYSn16nPV8hzY4qpZl49XdlskgG8iGOp8m7rf-uAu1vLpyZkKDbiSqTQ/s320/49779577423_a2a5a38131_h.jpg&quot; width=&quot;179&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhreOokvPBSWsTt6T108zpDzGlzwPJONnjErEcfO8HNdx98-UAcbSwgkbAYk9_fvnmcoCl-mXBFN1ngJLY_nW-liL0JGpeuCEenn7ZvslYYTBoX_u3NbzVG5wZ6R0QMHRY-7osSJQ/s1600/49798433188_f545151cd3_k.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;1600&quot; data-original-width=&quot;1059&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhreOokvPBSWsTt6T108zpDzGlzwPJONnjErEcfO8HNdx98-UAcbSwgkbAYk9_fvnmcoCl-mXBFN1ngJLY_nW-liL0JGpeuCEenn7ZvslYYTBoX_u3NbzVG5wZ6R0QMHRY-7osSJQ/s320/49798433188_f545151cd3_k.jpg&quot; width=&quot;211&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
  27. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  28. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDzAjGETjkQSBBaVJj4cjxP0J451fjRwgP-GGetvb1_rVg3PhKoP-e-iKGeYzCisFP8l1cJcI6hgt5JBZSGZwRBZxLeyaqLlM0CCkSxoXNO4y7DBr8ju_eyGws1y1F-g5x92AlQ/s1600/49795586102_65ea510432_b.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;1024&quot; data-original-width=&quot;942&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxDzAjGETjkQSBBaVJj4cjxP0J451fjRwgP-GGetvb1_rVg3PhKoP-e-iKGeYzCisFP8l1cJcI6hgt5JBZSGZwRBZxLeyaqLlM0CCkSxoXNO4y7DBr8ju_eyGws1y1F-g5x92AlQ/s320/49795586102_65ea510432_b.jpg&quot; width=&quot;294&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
  29. Just a tiny sample of stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
  30. &lt;br /&gt;
  31. These are cray cray days.&lt;br /&gt;
  32. &lt;br /&gt;
  33. We made a trip to market again today. It had been 11 days. It&#39;s wicked stressful - and here we are, in the woods, in Maine. I couldn&#39;t imagine having to go through this living in NYC, or any city, for that matter.&lt;br /&gt;
  34. &lt;br /&gt;
  35. It&#39;s really tough to keep positive.&lt;br /&gt;
  36. &lt;br /&gt;
  37. And, here come the crazy people insisting on jumping the gun. &quot;Opening up the country.&quot; No regard for what the SCIENTISTS say? UNBELIEVABLE.&lt;br /&gt;
  38. &lt;br /&gt;
  39. Never in a million years would I have believed I&#39;d have to live through this.&lt;br /&gt;
  40. &lt;br /&gt;
  41. My heart goes out to the millions of people in this world who can&#39;t practice social distancing.&lt;br /&gt;
  42. &lt;br /&gt;
  43. My heart bleeds for the people that have to die a horrible, lonely death because of this.&lt;br /&gt;
  44. &lt;br /&gt;
  45. My heart aches for the people that still believe HE HAS THEIR BEST INTEREST AT HEART.&lt;br /&gt;
  46. &lt;br /&gt;
  47. When will they wake up? When will they realize he doesn&#39;t give a rat&#39;s ass about them?&lt;br /&gt;
  48. &lt;br /&gt;
  49. &lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/1494854544927833925/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=1494854544927833925&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/1494854544927833925'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/1494854544927833925'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/just-for-record.html' title='Just For The Record'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgInDWrk35qv0E7o4uHNkbRK_VqX-iY47SKA_h4H8NCoM3wyR1MKNYaCQ7X5GwX-TlOtYm15Av8H9do5zFYSn16nPV8hzY4qpZl49XdlskgG8iGOp8m7rf-uAu1vLpyZkKDbiSqTQ/s72-c/49779577423_a2a5a38131_h.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-6549604553164450594</id><published>2020-04-12T19:27:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-12T19:52:27.941-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="america"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blues"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gigs"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="musicians"/><title type='text'>LIFE STORIES - Tour Notes 1993</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Going to start writing down my life stories. What with this pandemic, pretty sure my life will get cut much shorter than I had expected. Here&#39;s some words I found in my file cabinet. These are some notes I wrote down when I did a mid west tour playing bass with Shirley Lewis.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
  50. &lt;br /&gt;
  51. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  52. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWfEYsKEz_rlPiq9N4IvhediJrDkbNcyy0aWtLMmpm7whwWB7__f9Fvu8bX-5QR_6Ii4iE-WTTJlmle2aaHrLjA_TbRbd-jWQqUHO0fcIir_7-q32T2pEu5IRJfUTEyIabZUvog/s1600/8500066571_013f33f3e2_c.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;653&quot; data-original-width=&quot;800&quot; height=&quot;261&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWfEYsKEz_rlPiq9N4IvhediJrDkbNcyy0aWtLMmpm7whwWB7__f9Fvu8bX-5QR_6Ii4iE-WTTJlmle2aaHrLjA_TbRbd-jWQqUHO0fcIir_7-q32T2pEu5IRJfUTEyIabZUvog/s320/8500066571_013f33f3e2_c.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
  53. June 29, 1993&lt;br /&gt;
  54. Left Boston, drove to New York State 90 West. Stayed in a cheap hotel, the band shared two beds in the room and Shirley and David step in the van.&lt;br /&gt;
  55. &lt;br /&gt;
  56. June 30, 1993&lt;br /&gt;
  57. Got to Cleveland, Ohio about four or five p.m., set up and checked into the &quot;temporary housing&quot; rooms - band stayed in one apartment overlooking Cleveland. Cool view of Lake Eerie from the 17th floor. Played Fat Fish Blue, and old-time blues legend Robert Lockwood Jr opened up for us and later sat in to sing a tune with Shirley. Nice people worked there - okay crowd.&lt;br /&gt;
  58. &lt;br /&gt;
  59. July 1, 1993&lt;br /&gt;
  60. Drove to Davenport, Iowa. Night off. Stayed at Ramada Inn and watched the city get flooded out by the Mississippi River.&lt;br /&gt;
  61. &lt;br /&gt;
  62. July 2, 1993&lt;br /&gt;
  63. Another day off. Swam in the morning at the hotel, then drove the 6 or 7 hour drive across Iowa to Sioux City. Stayed at Best Western Regency down town. Black out at hotel right when we checked in. Me and Ali had it out, by Sat morning getting along swell again.&lt;br /&gt;
  64. &lt;br /&gt;
  65. July 3, 1993&lt;br /&gt;
  66. Went to the Souix City Blues Festival. A perfect day, blue skies an sunny, but windy. We played a 1:30 to 2:45 set. We all looked sharp and played great. Crowd loved it. The tent blew off during the 3rd or 4th song, but we just kept on playing like nothing was even happening. After we played we enjoyed the festival and the other artists. Buddy Guy pulled off a neat set (&quot;One leg in the East, one leg in the West, I&#39;m down in the center, trying to do my Best!&quot;) Then Dr. John went up last with his big band - same show as when I saw him last spring with Eric, Gordon and Erin Randall. When it started to rain at the end, Dr. John didn&#39;t blink and eye and just kept right on playing while sound and stage guys ran all around covering everything up. The band (us) danced in the rain right up front, laughing hysterically!&lt;br /&gt;
  67. &lt;br /&gt;
  68. July 4, 1993&lt;br /&gt;
  69. Got up early and had a few words with Mr. Buddy Guy in the hotel hall (right across the hall from our room!) All I could think was, wow, I just saw him on Jay Leno a couple of months ago! He was cool and polite and handsome, too, like Luther Guitar Jr. Johnson. Drove back to Davenport and check back into the Ramada Inn. Went to the festival grounds (Mississippi Blues Festival) and it was pouring rain. We played at 6:15. Band looked great again (black, red and white) and BANG! From the first tune the crowd went wild! Cameras flashing - wow - Shirley and band knocked &#39;em out flat. People asking for our autographs, etc. Met super nice folks - The Louisiana Cajan Band and the little nine year old kid Jerard with the green eyes and 22 year old mind.&lt;br /&gt;
  70. &lt;br /&gt;
  71. Signed the same poster as Albert Collins and met Archie Edwards bluesman from D.C. (&quot;always play alone - always know when you done good - always know when you done bad - keep all the money!&quot;)&lt;br /&gt;
  72. &lt;br /&gt;
  73. Band, etc had a blast after that gig - all the attention we got! Specially Alizon and Marc were thrilled!&lt;br /&gt;
  74. &lt;br /&gt;
  75. Monday July 5&lt;br /&gt;
  76. Got up early and drove to Minneapolis, Minnesota and played the Fine Line. Not a big crowd - through a nice guy named Big George and his band opened for us. I was in a fucked up, sick of everybody mood and played like SHIT sloppy which fucked up Kem (the drummer), of course. But, the people who were there where really nice and complimentary. After the gig we started driving to Indianapolis, Indiana. Now, it&#39;s Tuesday, July 6, 8:30 a.m. an David has been driving since 2 a.m. last night after the gig. I got about 4 hours of &quot;sleep&quot; in the back of the van on top of Alizon&#39;s keyboards!&lt;br /&gt;
  77. &lt;br /&gt;
  78. Had breakfast in Wisconsin (nice waitress) and expect to be in Indianapolis around 2 this afternoon. Traffic in Chicago hopefully won&#39;t hold us up too long.&lt;br /&gt;
  79. &lt;br /&gt;
  80. Tuesday July 6&lt;br /&gt;
  81. Nice gig at The Slippery Noodle. Tight, calm and a nice crowd by the end. Club was great old building - a real blues club - felt great. Stayed overnight and left Wednesday afternoon for Chicago. By the time we got to hotel 20 miles out of the city I knew I did not want to go out. Upset Shirley some but what the fuck - had to watch out for me - stayed in room and watched soft porn and Leno (took a quick dip in the pool) and fell asleep by midnight. When Marc and Ali got in around 3:30 they told me Shirl flipped out! Went nuts! Screaming cursing nobody cared selfish brats that we are - went over the edge apparently . That locks in my decision for me. I&#39;m pretty sure. How embarrassing of her to act so childish. All is up in the air - Kem is staying with his wife at his inlaws so he and I missed the episode (what&#39;s going between me and him is strange still - so confusing.) He says he&#39;ll be with them (her) but thinking of us (me.) What am I going to do? I don&#39;t know.&lt;br /&gt;
  82. &lt;br /&gt;
  83. Marc and Ali and I might rent a car and go into the city alone to explore - not looking forward to the downfall of Shirl and the band. I don&#39;t what&#39;s going on - two more gigs and we&#39;re home. I&#39;m calling Marty now - please be there!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/6549604553164450594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=6549604553164450594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/6549604553164450594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/6549604553164450594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/life-stories-tour-notes-1993.html' title='LIFE STORIES - Tour Notes 1993'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpWfEYsKEz_rlPiq9N4IvhediJrDkbNcyy0aWtLMmpm7whwWB7__f9Fvu8bX-5QR_6Ii4iE-WTTJlmle2aaHrLjA_TbRbd-jWQqUHO0fcIir_7-q32T2pEu5IRJfUTEyIabZUvog/s72-c/8500066571_013f33f3e2_c.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-135590950343948544</id><published>2020-04-12T18:32:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-12T19:55:37.631-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="poetry"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing"/><title type='text'>Life Stories - Random Prose</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Going to start writing down my life stories. What with this pandemic, pretty sure my life will get cut much shorter than I had expected. Here&#39;s some words I found in my file cabinet.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
  84. &lt;br /&gt;
  85. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  86. &lt;/div&gt;
  87. DOWN AT THE DAMP BANKS&lt;br /&gt;
  88. &lt;br /&gt;
  89. For almost ten years now,&lt;br /&gt;
  90. the water endless like the rain and the sun,&lt;br /&gt;
  91. the girl sat there,&lt;br /&gt;
  92. talking to herself.&lt;br /&gt;
  93. &lt;br /&gt;
  94. THE VAGINA CLUB&lt;br /&gt;
  95. &lt;br /&gt;
  96. They met every Thursday in the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;
  97. working on the Great Plan&lt;br /&gt;
  98. like two Indians&lt;br /&gt;
  99. split in the grass.&lt;br /&gt;
  100. &lt;br /&gt;
  101. BIG UNDERLYING PROBLEM IS&lt;br /&gt;
  102. &lt;br /&gt;
  103. A juicy, crisp apple drips from his mouth&lt;br /&gt;
  104. gobbled up in chunks like a child with a grape,&lt;br /&gt;
  105. lips foamed, licked by tongue, and nostrils&lt;br /&gt;
  106. open, anticipating more.&lt;br /&gt;
  107. &lt;br /&gt;
  108. JUNIOR THE JUMPER CABLE&lt;br /&gt;
  109. &lt;br /&gt;
  110. File under &quot;M&quot; for Memories:&lt;br /&gt;
  111. Chuck and Colleen got married on&lt;br /&gt;
  112. 4-17-93&lt;br /&gt;
  113. and we played the numbers -&lt;br /&gt;
  114. your birthday&lt;br /&gt;
  115. my birthday&lt;br /&gt;
  116. and the Wedding Day.&lt;br /&gt;
  117. &lt;br /&gt;
  118. Swampscott, and the long lines of the ocean&lt;br /&gt;
  119. and the city bestowed with storm rays, just&lt;br /&gt;
  120. twinkling across the bay,&lt;br /&gt;
  121. buildings punctured the clouds&lt;br /&gt;
  122. like giant thorns.&lt;br /&gt;
  123. &lt;br /&gt;
  124. &quot;GREAT DATE! SHURKS ME OFF ON HIS BOYFRIEND&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
  125. &lt;br /&gt;
  126. &quot;Whisper it,&quot; I say.&lt;br /&gt;
  127. &lt;br /&gt;
  128. &quot;Okay, listen. Tell yourself to watch for goodness&lt;br /&gt;
  129. all along the way. Make yourself believe it&#39;s okay,&lt;br /&gt;
  130. and watch the others follow through.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
  131. &lt;br /&gt;
  132. &quot;Is it all that simple? What about the rules?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
  133. &lt;br /&gt;
  134. &quot;The rules are all in your own heart. Follow the rules&lt;br /&gt;
  135. of your heart.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
  136. &lt;br /&gt;
  137. &quot;Shout it, I say!&quot; And I stepped back.&lt;br /&gt;
  138. &lt;br /&gt;
  139. He stood on his chair and spoke.&lt;br /&gt;
  140. &lt;br /&gt;
  141. &quot;Follow the rules of your own heart! The rules&lt;br /&gt;
  142. in your heart are the ones that work. They can bend&lt;br /&gt;
  143. like the&lt;br /&gt;
  144. saplings that burst through the spring rubble, reaching for&lt;br /&gt;
  145. the sun with a deep will to succeed, to be a part of&lt;br /&gt;
  146. this miraculous force, of life! The rules of life and&lt;br /&gt;
  147. the&lt;br /&gt;
  148. rules of the heart are one, for the bend together&lt;br /&gt;
  149. as the lines of life twist and blend into a melody that&lt;br /&gt;
  150. can&#39;t be repeated.&lt;br /&gt;
  151. It can only continue.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
  152. &lt;br /&gt;
  153. The stars sat stunned for a moment of silence, then they&lt;br /&gt;
  154. burst into a kaleidoscope of cheer and light.&lt;br /&gt;
  155. &lt;br /&gt;
  156. &quot;I think they heard you my friend,&quot; I said as I cloaked&lt;br /&gt;
  157. him in warmth, and led him off to his destiny.&lt;br /&gt;
  158. &lt;br /&gt;
  159. SHARE CROPPER&#39;S ANONYMOUS (Or: Socked by the Saxophone Again)&lt;br /&gt;
  160. &lt;br /&gt;
  161. There&#39;s this guy, plays sax-&lt;br /&gt;
  162. Scott-&lt;br /&gt;
  163. body curved like an S when he plays,&lt;br /&gt;
  164. wavy hair and slanted eyes -&lt;br /&gt;
  165. &lt;br /&gt;
  166. Slithers cross the floor, blowing&lt;br /&gt;
  167. delicious secrets into the air-&lt;br /&gt;
  168. slippery mouthpieces and&lt;br /&gt;
  169. shiny show boots -&lt;br /&gt;
  170. &lt;br /&gt;
  171. Seductive in his sly, in and out the back,&lt;br /&gt;
  172. shakes a hand with strength -&lt;br /&gt;
  173. sits back, smoking,&lt;br /&gt;
  174. sights the scene and goes&lt;br /&gt;
  175. &lt;br /&gt;
  176. Slowly, between the Sisters and the Sorry&#39;s -&lt;br /&gt;
  177. Socked by the Saxophone again.&lt;br /&gt;
  178. &lt;br /&gt;
  179. INEVITABLE (from 4/26/88)&lt;br /&gt;
  180. &lt;br /&gt;
  181. People just walking around - babies hanging off a tree&lt;br /&gt;
  182. Dogs eat strawberries, three by three&lt;br /&gt;
  183. Somewhere in this sunny park&lt;br /&gt;
  184. You are looking for me.&lt;br /&gt;
  185. &lt;br /&gt;
  186. Not the eyes that watch from the bench&lt;br /&gt;
  187. Cutting up letters never sent.&lt;br /&gt;
  188. Not the bikes that sing notes &#39;till they&#39;re bent;&lt;br /&gt;
  189. - though all those, you represent.&lt;br /&gt;
  190. &lt;br /&gt;
  191. On cement stairs I snap to keep - I&lt;br /&gt;
  192. Duplicate for a short relief&lt;br /&gt;
  193. Like the discontent lady that found a different patch -&lt;br /&gt;
  194. It&#39;s something we all seek.&lt;br /&gt;
  195. &lt;br /&gt;
  196. But it can&#39;t breath, can&#39;t hold me tight -&lt;br /&gt;
  197. It&#39;s nothing next to my deepest fright -&lt;br /&gt;
  198. The competition that rakes into night:&lt;br /&gt;
  199. That day you won&#39;t look anymore.&lt;br /&gt;
  200. &lt;br /&gt;
  201. AND THEN THERE&#39;S....&lt;br /&gt;
  202. &lt;br /&gt;
  203. If I could just&lt;br /&gt;
  204. &lt;br /&gt;
  205. get to the&lt;br /&gt;
  206. &lt;br /&gt;
  207. next line of the&lt;br /&gt;
  208. &lt;br /&gt;
  209. poem&lt;br /&gt;
  210. &lt;br /&gt;
  211. Then I might&lt;br /&gt;
  212. &lt;br /&gt;
  213. make it&lt;br /&gt;
  214. &lt;br /&gt;
  215. If I could just&lt;br /&gt;
  216. &lt;br /&gt;
  217. get&lt;br /&gt;
  218. &lt;br /&gt;
  219. to&lt;br /&gt;
  220. &lt;br /&gt;
  221. the&lt;br /&gt;
  222. &lt;br /&gt;
  223. next&lt;br /&gt;
  224. &lt;br /&gt;
  225. line.&lt;br /&gt;
  226. &lt;br /&gt;
  227. OLIVER WOOD&lt;br /&gt;
  228. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  229. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44U11_vHOJ46s6XG8eFljidmbmWAMW3w9TBWaUZV568cK6-NH2kBHmvKwDmnyl8F-fAEKASBBLjNm0NGTiaHfU_KuPccluCd-oXZ1q6rLJJVCdW1MHk0MVGOTrkHZtw5wgPhhHw/s1600/4141944354_3648b658a0_c.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;550&quot; data-original-width=&quot;785&quot; height=&quot;224&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44U11_vHOJ46s6XG8eFljidmbmWAMW3w9TBWaUZV568cK6-NH2kBHmvKwDmnyl8F-fAEKASBBLjNm0NGTiaHfU_KuPccluCd-oXZ1q6rLJJVCdW1MHk0MVGOTrkHZtw5wgPhhHw/s320/4141944354_3648b658a0_c.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
  230. &lt;br /&gt;
  231. If he could,&lt;br /&gt;
  232. and he should.&lt;br /&gt;
  233. &lt;br /&gt;
  234. Oliver love her&lt;br /&gt;
  235. and I love her, too.&lt;br /&gt;
  236. &lt;br /&gt;
  237. But I love Oliver&lt;br /&gt;
  238. would he love me, too?&lt;br /&gt;
  239. &lt;br /&gt;
  240. Oliver Wood he?&lt;br /&gt;
  241. Could be Oliver would.&lt;br /&gt;
  242. &lt;br /&gt;
  243. Should be I love&lt;br /&gt;
  244. Oliver Wood.&lt;br /&gt;
  245. &lt;br /&gt;
  246. Oh, love her, Oliver would&lt;br /&gt;
  247. But only if she love Oliver&lt;br /&gt;
  248. &lt;br /&gt;
  249. Would she love if she could,&lt;br /&gt;
  250. Oliver Wood.&lt;br /&gt;
  251. &lt;br /&gt;
  252. Would Oliver Wood?&lt;br /&gt;
  253. &lt;br /&gt;
  254. DEAR ERIC&lt;br /&gt;
  255. &lt;br /&gt;
  256. When I think about you&lt;br /&gt;
  257. I&#39;m in my old kitchen&lt;br /&gt;
  258. sittin&#39; by the fire&lt;br /&gt;
  259. poking sticks in the coals&lt;br /&gt;
  260. listening to the radio&lt;br /&gt;
  261. all alone with my muse&lt;br /&gt;
  262. &lt;br /&gt;
  263. And I remember the smell&lt;br /&gt;
  264. of orange and spice tea&lt;br /&gt;
  265. And I can feel the heat&lt;br /&gt;
  266. of the fire on me&lt;br /&gt;
  267. too young for whiskey&lt;br /&gt;
  268. too old for hot milk&lt;br /&gt;
  269. so young I can still sing to myself&lt;br /&gt;
  270. &lt;br /&gt;
  271. Dear Eric&lt;br /&gt;
  272. When I think about you&lt;br /&gt;
  273. I start to wonder&lt;br /&gt;
  274. about the stars and the moon&lt;br /&gt;
  275. I hear you singing&lt;br /&gt;
  276. in the afternoon&lt;br /&gt;
  277. And by Friday&lt;br /&gt;
  278. I call you on the phone&lt;br /&gt;
  279. So we can hover together&lt;br /&gt;
  280. Up on the stars and the moon&lt;br /&gt;
  281. &lt;br /&gt;
  282. For just an afternoon&lt;br /&gt;
  283. No ore time for no fool&lt;br /&gt;
  284. Just a wondering&lt;br /&gt;
  285. about the stars and the moon&lt;br /&gt;
  286. Not too late, not too soon.&lt;br /&gt;
  287. &lt;br /&gt;
  288. There are lines across my face, criss-crossed void of nothingness&lt;br /&gt;
  289. as I walk this street I&#39;ve walked so many times in body.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/135590950343948544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=135590950343948544&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/135590950343948544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/135590950343948544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/life-stories-random-prose.html' title='Life Stories - Random Prose'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg44U11_vHOJ46s6XG8eFljidmbmWAMW3w9TBWaUZV568cK6-NH2kBHmvKwDmnyl8F-fAEKASBBLjNm0NGTiaHfU_KuPccluCd-oXZ1q6rLJJVCdW1MHk0MVGOTrkHZtw5wgPhhHw/s72-c/4141944354_3648b658a0_c.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-5145930128257691027</id><published>2020-04-12T18:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-12T19:42:26.708-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cambridge"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gigs"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life stories"/><title type='text'>Life Stories - Wonder (A Visit from Jill)</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Going to start writing down my life stories. What with this pandemic, pretty sure my life will get cut much shorter than I had expected. Here&#39;s some words I found in my file cabinet.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
  290. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  291. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAnlSzu-il5wu6ZJUzzXm6PLe5p8w9zJKLwYpbxzoIclZpFw_JIqH9pxCPXEIwlIL6ppf23Iazzyhi_XQ4xjwsPhe1e6yzjRLm95rH9AbUW2Zd6OTGrHPDHG8kJLOhrjaHyLBvA/s1600/1992055298_a7133e4c5e_z.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;600&quot; data-original-width=&quot;598&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAnlSzu-il5wu6ZJUzzXm6PLe5p8w9zJKLwYpbxzoIclZpFw_JIqH9pxCPXEIwlIL6ppf23Iazzyhi_XQ4xjwsPhe1e6yzjRLm95rH9AbUW2Zd6OTGrHPDHG8kJLOhrjaHyLBvA/s320/1992055298_a7133e4c5e_z.jpg&quot; width=&quot;318&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
  292. &lt;br /&gt;
  293. Dragged, late, missing everything by a skip.&lt;br /&gt;
  294. Harper&#39;s is Fat City, not Mighty Sam McClain.&lt;br /&gt;
  295. Eleven o&#39;clock, Saturday night, House of Blues has a line out the door and around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;
  296. Plough and Stars has a two dollar cover.&lt;br /&gt;
  297. Drumlins is a drag on a Saturday night.&lt;br /&gt;
  298. The Middle East has too many choices, obscure.&lt;br /&gt;
  299. T.T. The Bears we run into Charles Lock, master M.C.&lt;br /&gt;
  300. Slips us in for free and we see Elevator, trio with not so hot lead vocals but decent noise and groove.&lt;br /&gt;
  301. We stay for Machinery Hall. I&#39;ve just seen the name in Boston Rock, acoustic lead vocals and a&lt;br /&gt;
  302. long-haired bass player with a mega-rig.&lt;br /&gt;
  303. The toilet gets clogged and we wait for the lady to plunge it. We almost give up but get through eventually.&lt;br /&gt;
  304. Bored, try the CanTab. Joe&#39;s not there, Lee&#39;s not there, heavy rock college band and a three dollar cover.&lt;br /&gt;
  305. We go back to the House of Blues.&lt;br /&gt;
  306. Sit downstairs and watch the Nighthawks on the video monitor, blasting live through the speakers above us.&lt;br /&gt;
  307. We get hungry, they&#39;ve stopped serving.&lt;br /&gt;
  308. Finish my Harpoon and half her Bass, drive to Davis for some food at Dollies.&lt;br /&gt;
  309. Beat the rush and get a table by the window.&lt;br /&gt;
  310. Lines from the shadows off the blinds, streetlamp.&lt;br /&gt;
  311. Cheeseburger and fries, she a feta and tomato and onion omelette (she wanted mushroom instead of onion but held back, not wanting to frazzle the waitress.)&lt;br /&gt;
  312. &quot;I like my caffeine cold and my decaf hot.&quot; We laugh, stumble out the words.&lt;br /&gt;
  313. She pays, we hit the cold autumn night winds, we go to my house.&lt;br /&gt;
  314. Wayne&#39;s World, she falls asleep through it again and I rearranged the furniture in the living room.&lt;br /&gt;
  315. Arnold the cat wakes me up, I get up to feed him, I wake her up, I make coffee, we go back to bed, she gets in my bed, she gets up and showers. I get up and have coffee.&lt;br /&gt;
  316. Kem calls at 10:00. We watch the rest of Wayne&#39;s World.&lt;br /&gt;
  317. She leaves at 11:37.&lt;br /&gt;
  318. &lt;br /&gt;
  319. 10-10-93</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/5145930128257691027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=5145930128257691027&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5145930128257691027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/5145930128257691027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/life-stories-wonder-visit-from-jill.html' title='Life Stories - Wonder (A Visit from Jill)'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDAnlSzu-il5wu6ZJUzzXm6PLe5p8w9zJKLwYpbxzoIclZpFw_JIqH9pxCPXEIwlIL6ppf23Iazzyhi_XQ4xjwsPhe1e6yzjRLm95rH9AbUW2Zd6OTGrHPDHG8kJLOhrjaHyLBvA/s72-c/1992055298_a7133e4c5e_z.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-2724510786269658550</id><published>2020-04-12T17:30:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-12T19:43:05.476-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life stories"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing"/><title type='text'>Life Stories - Intro</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Going to start writing down my life stories. What with this pandemic, pretty sure my life will get cut much shorter than I had expected. Here&#39;s some words I found in my file cabinet. I don&#39;t remember writing this or what it was really about or who. But, it was probably sometime in my early 20&#39;s when I wrote it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
  320. &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  321. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcz_GIAHxxkwucYHRe3txEEEJn6psMssiUgydfQx8vq5sywS1nTyjkRXXLhRhw7IeQ-zv0cSvswbdWqHoyPcGwGjrfMPVU3i4WnTtYoAtgIEbuZqtetNhhouPZZJ7Ic30Z-ceo0w/s1600/4559969487_41b46bcf55_c.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;597&quot; data-original-width=&quot;798&quot; height=&quot;239&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcz_GIAHxxkwucYHRe3txEEEJn6psMssiUgydfQx8vq5sywS1nTyjkRXXLhRhw7IeQ-zv0cSvswbdWqHoyPcGwGjrfMPVU3i4WnTtYoAtgIEbuZqtetNhhouPZZJ7Ic30Z-ceo0w/s320/4559969487_41b46bcf55_c.jpg&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
  322. &lt;br /&gt;
  323. I wanted to take the thing from her hands and smash it on the floor, letting it shatter into pieces in front of her face, waiting for her reaction. A smug thought, and one that sent a passionate rebellious feeling right through my chest.&lt;br /&gt;
  324. &lt;br /&gt;
  325. She had wriggled the doorknob and found it locked. I was curious, so I unlocked the kitchen door. She peered in and in her phony, no-fooling voice said &quot;hello&quot; and that it smelled good in here. &quot;Tomato soup,&quot; I said, and she walked straight for the bong, pointing to it, reaching for it, asked in her sweet little phony voice, &quot;mind if I take this?&quot; &quot;Nope,&quot; I say. &quot;Not being used?&quot; &quot;Nope,&quot; even more quiver in my voice.&lt;br /&gt;
  326. &lt;br /&gt;
  327. &lt;i&gt;Damn fool&lt;/i&gt;, I thought, and sat back down. She says, &quot;thank you&quot; and leaves immediately, afraid of me, of my knowledge, of my out-thinking. Then the image of the shattered bong on the kitchen floor flashed into my mind, and my inner-voice said, &lt;i&gt;yes I do mind if you use it. Give it back &lt;/i&gt;- smash! Oh, to see her little eyes light up in fear and bitter disappointment, to show them how I really feel, to show them what fools they are. Ah, but instead, I let them go, I retreat to my candlelit room, and let them wonder - &lt;i&gt;what does she think? Why does she act the way she does?&lt;/i&gt; I know they think it, but they are too afraid, too stoned, too stupid, too confront me and deal with a reality that is too harsh to understand.&lt;br /&gt;
  328. &lt;br /&gt;
  329. Not that I have not been a muddle of questions today about myself. I cleaning up after the boy&#39;s - washing dishes, weeks and weeks worth of dishes, piles and piles of grime and slime, all at my greasy hands and fingernail-less hands, my scarred hands. Washing, scrubbing, rinsing, drying, putting away. All alone, I clean up after the boys. I need clutter-free environments to create, sometimes. I mess up with them, but then, for my energy to keep flowing, I need clear settlement, clean, swept away, clean-slate looks. Fresh start.&lt;br /&gt;
  330. &lt;br /&gt;
  331. So I clean and try not to realize how lonely I can be, how damn discontent. Why I don&#39;t call anyone, set up a meeting. When all I really want to do is DO more, create, design, activate my energies towards producing things, accomplishing, learning and beginning again. Tried to play guitar and all I got was tired, burnt-out licks and chords. Tried to keep going, keep playing, but I hit a brick wall and fell flat on my back. Try to quit smoking, get clean on fats and sugar and cholesterol and dairy products and drinks - try try try alway try, what about getting over the hump, to the part of doing, of doing, being in the process of..&lt;br /&gt;
  332. &lt;br /&gt;
  333. Ya, the dirty bitch, afraid to look in my eyes, afraid to see my soul, afraid of my reality, my wisdom, looking to the bong of death and misery, and all I wanted to do was laugh and smash her fate on the kitchen floor.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/2724510786269658550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=2724510786269658550&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/2724510786269658550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/2724510786269658550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/life-stories-intro.html' title='Life Stories - Intro'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcz_GIAHxxkwucYHRe3txEEEJn6psMssiUgydfQx8vq5sywS1nTyjkRXXLhRhw7IeQ-zv0cSvswbdWqHoyPcGwGjrfMPVU3i4WnTtYoAtgIEbuZqtetNhhouPZZJ7Ic30Z-ceo0w/s72-c/4559969487_41b46bcf55_c.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-2509151226257257624</id><published>2020-04-09T14:16:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-09T14:19:25.388-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="aging"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="america"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blues"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="exercise"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="weather"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="writing"/><title type='text'>Don&#39;t Worry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
  334. &lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhWx1uh4l3_mKs4Tv2PkPUW7reMKg20k2Voc0b3xLE1X5YwYIrQvqf0wUglniaH8-lK_uGXlDrWAYnQljPXZuir5EX77eTKt9RU4-C1ktPBxf8W5QGbeMDDQvXS3R0LNbqIUTiw/s1600/49736490681_909c336f1f_c.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; data-original-height=&quot;800&quot; data-original-width=&quot;600&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhWx1uh4l3_mKs4Tv2PkPUW7reMKg20k2Voc0b3xLE1X5YwYIrQvqf0wUglniaH8-lK_uGXlDrWAYnQljPXZuir5EX77eTKt9RU4-C1ktPBxf8W5QGbeMDDQvXS3R0LNbqIUTiw/s320/49736490681_909c336f1f_c.jpg&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
  335. I tried writing a happy song&lt;br /&gt;
  336. but everything I wrote down just came out wrong&lt;br /&gt;
  337. I wanted to be uplifting&lt;br /&gt;
  338. but my mood kept shifting&lt;br /&gt;
  339. &lt;br /&gt;
  340. Not so easy these days and nights&lt;br /&gt;
  341. Feeling a lot of sadness and a lot of fright&lt;br /&gt;
  342. Darkness is all around me&lt;br /&gt;
  343. Each passing moment makes it harder to see&lt;br /&gt;
  344. &lt;br /&gt;
  345. &lt;br /&gt;
  346. Just learned one of Dwight&#39;s nieces passed away yesterday. She was ill, his brother Douglas messaged me from California. She got the virus and she died. She was really young.. I&#39;m not sure but probably not much older then early 30&#39;s, probably younger. She lived in Florida. RIP Jessica Morrison.&lt;br /&gt;
  347. &lt;br /&gt;
  348. Two weeks ago, my childhood friend&#39;s older brother passed away. He was out ice skating, something he did all the time, on one of the many lakes up here in Maine. He fell through the ice. His wife and dog fell through, too. They managed to get out, but he drowned. His wife has to live with her grief during this pandemic. Unable to be hugged by friends or other family members who don&#39;t live with her. Unable to have a memorial service for her beloved. RIP Mark Brandhorst.&lt;br /&gt;
  349. &lt;br /&gt;
  350. That&#39;s the sad news for this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;
  351. &lt;br /&gt;
  352. I&#39;m having a really hard time with all of this. I feel pretty lost. Can&#39;t seem to get anything done.&lt;br /&gt;
  353. &lt;br /&gt;
  354. I miss my Dad, and my brothers and my sisters and Phyllis. When will I see them again? Will I see them again? Will one of us get the virus and die, alone, in a hospital bed?&lt;br /&gt;
  355. &lt;br /&gt;
  356. These are dark times.&lt;br /&gt;
  357. &lt;br /&gt;
  358. I wish I could be more productive. I&#39;m running out of ideas. Ideas for supper. Ideas for the future. Ideas for everything. I&#39;m in a really low place. Not sleeping too great. Tried working out this morning and didn&#39;t have enough energy. A one minute plank and a little bit of stretching. Then I lost interest.&lt;br /&gt;
  359. &lt;br /&gt;
  360. Wish I was one of these folks that had a positive attitude. I hate this.&lt;br /&gt;
  361. &lt;br /&gt;
  362. Today it is raining and dank. It&#39;s been very quiet. Don started the wood stove a little while ago to take off the edge. Later the rain will turn to snow and by morning there will be a fresh blanket, erasing all the progress that has been made up here on the hill.&lt;br /&gt;
  363. &lt;br /&gt;
  364. Alas. Tomorrow will be better. Don&#39;t worry.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/2509151226257257624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=2509151226257257624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/2509151226257257624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/2509151226257257624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/dont-worry.html' title='Don&#39;t Worry'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvhWx1uh4l3_mKs4Tv2PkPUW7reMKg20k2Voc0b3xLE1X5YwYIrQvqf0wUglniaH8-lK_uGXlDrWAYnQljPXZuir5EX77eTKt9RU4-C1ktPBxf8W5QGbeMDDQvXS3R0LNbqIUTiw/s72-c/49736490681_909c336f1f_c.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30369421.post-809242253356776450</id><published>2020-04-03T15:30:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2020-04-03T15:30:13.752-04:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="america"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="blues"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="cat"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="chores"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="dad"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="family"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gigs"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="home"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="life"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="market nightmare"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="politics"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="routine"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="shopping"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="spooky"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="taxes"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="television"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="thoughts"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="video"/><title type='text'>Isolation Blues</title><content type='html'>It&#39;s Friday, April 3, 2020, a little after 3 in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;
  365. &lt;br /&gt;
  366. We went to the grocery store on Tuesday, and stocked up pretty good. It was less stressful then the last time (about 10 days earlier), but still, it&#39;s overwhelming trying to remember everything you might need. As it was, I realized I forgot a few things. Coffee filters (not out yet), butter. Wanted to buy some bread flour and instant yeast so I could try making sourdough bread - guess I wasn&#39;t the only one because the shelves were bare. At least the other shoppers were much more aware this time. Less mingling, more distance between us.&lt;br /&gt;
  367. &lt;br /&gt;
  368. It&#39;s so very strange, this new normal. Nobody likes it.&lt;br /&gt;
  369. &lt;br /&gt;
  370. I get a few things done everyday, but I also spend too much time doing nothing. Little spurts of creativity that quickly fizzle out in despair. A phone call here, a text there, instant messenger. When it all gets to be too much, I put on headphones and go through You Tube listening to music.&lt;br /&gt;
  371. &lt;br /&gt;
  372. I managed to file my taxes on Monday. That was a biggie. I&#39;ve set up online banking, a Pay Pal account. Don still has some work, so that&#39;s a relief. I transferred money from my savings account into checking so I can write out the big bill of the month - the mortgage. If things are still looking dire next month (which they probably will), I&#39;ll muster up the gumption to call them and see if they can offer me a little respite or something. I don&#39;t know.&lt;br /&gt;
  373. &lt;br /&gt;
  374. I miss my little day job a lot. My coworkers and the customers and the work itself. The routine. I miss my home slices in the band, making people happy with our performances.&lt;br /&gt;
  375. &lt;br /&gt;
  376. Spooky is getting closer to letting me know she&#39;s ready. Not quite. Almost. She peed on the bed today- her body is failing. Poor baby kitty. I&#39;m pretty sure when the time is right, I can call ahead. I read somewhere where the vet came out to the car and did the deed. At least now the ground is soft enough for us to dig her a little grave. We&#39;ve got two of the others out back, Bonezee and Bango. Bunkey had to go into the mass incinerator because he had to go in the dead of winter. I don&#39;t want her to suffer any longer than necessary. She&#39;s been my favorite cat ever, despite being a problem child. She&#39;s wicked special.&lt;br /&gt;
  377. &lt;br /&gt;
  378. I call Dad nearly everyday around 4:45. I forget yesterday though. He usually has the energy to talk for 5 or 10 minutes. He seems to be handling all of this fairly well, considering. He&#39;s developed a late in life interest in golf. I suppose it&#39;s relaxing to watch. The apartment he&#39;s staying in at the assisted living facility has a really big flat screen television. He only watches the PBS news hour every evening at 7. He eats at 5. The residents are still all eating in the dining room, but they are not allowed to share tables anymore. They all get their temperature taken every morning. So far the virus has not entered the facility. I&#39;m so grateful for how seriously the staff is taking this.&lt;br /&gt;
  379. &lt;br /&gt;
  380. Fucking nightmare. Total insanity. And the worst possible person ever in the entire world to be &quot;in charge.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
  381. &lt;br /&gt;
  382. Stay safe everyone. I love you and wish you the best of health.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/809242253356776450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=30369421&amp;postID=809242253356776450&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/809242253356776450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/30369421/posts/default/809242253356776450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sleepylakate.blogspot.com/2020/04/isolation-blues.html' title='Isolation Blues'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07511228329197376058</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2wpTKtJt7JbcpfUabLMhavMLZCd0iTBPgBDMl9OImdOhhSxi3TfnBMi6HqbLIDOWcXOKwbGjNOFf2FFDWs4nu82DafejsOxKn2UV0RK9spFdaPXT59en07yk8MvYn8g/s113/DSCF2916.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>

If you would like to create a banner that links to this page (i.e. this validation result), do the following:

  1. Download the "valid Atom 1.0" banner.

  2. Upload the image to your own server. (This step is important. Please do not link directly to the image on this server.)

  3. Add this HTML to your page (change the image src attribute if necessary):

If you would like to create a text link instead, here is the URL you can use:

http://www.feedvalidator.org/check.cgi?url=http%3A//sleepylakate.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default

Home · About · News · Docs · Terms

 
Copyright © 2002-9 Sam Ruby, Mark Pilgrim, Joseph Walton, and Phil Ringnalda