A strange, drifting day, in which I cannot precisely account for the time. A Lady of Shalott day. In a ghastly way, I'm reminded that it's Virginia Woolf's birthday.
I was going to write a little poem about this dreaminess, but the rules of the haiku are too convoluted for my sluggish mind this evening.
All that I can do to convey everything I mean to say in this post is to play this song and have you lie down on the couch with your eyes closed and listen (maybe not on loop as I've been doing).
2 comments:
I loved this musical interlude on your blog. After I saw your excited request for secretly filming the poor blighter cat, I grabbed the flashlight to check the toaster bed experiment. Snubbed again, except the food. Loves the food. So far, thumb's down on beddie bye. Glad you had a kick-it day. Virginia did not know how to kick it. She maybe should have smoked opium instead of drowning herself.
put catnip in it? Then he'll looovvvve his bed :D
I dunno, I suspect I know how to kick it a little too much. I need to Virginia myself a little.
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