Today, before I leave for my shift, I’m officially taking all the summer decorations off the porch and putting out the fall stuff.

I don’t have much fall stuff — maybe, like, 2 things. But it is definitely time to put the summer stuff back into the barn until next year.

And just FYI — I am the ONLY person left in my entire neighborhood who still has her summer stuff out on her porch! Everyone else has long ago switched to fall.

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Okay.

Yesterday was much more intense than I was expecting. Even though my favorite 95-year-old Japanese man’s family was, indeed, gone, they left PILES of junk all over the place, and did not order a special bulk pick-up truck to come haul it away.

My client was more upset yesterday than he’d been all week. I was a wreck by the time I got home yesterday. I was just so emotionally worn out from all of it.

Anyway.

We did find this yesterday, and it cheered him — 2 photos of the USS General Gordon, the ship that my client came back to the States on in 1948, when he was 17 years old. After the war, the ship was used as a passenger ship between Japan and the US. My client’s father had bought him a one-way, first-class ticket when the war was over, so that my client could move back to NYC and start his life. My client has wonderful memories of being 17, and on that ship, not knowing what was in store for him in the US, but he was really, really excited.

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And here’s this!

This overwhelmed me and actually kind of made me feel a little discouraged.

In anticipation of my new boombox arriving soon, wherein I will be able to study French from my old cassettes instead of relying on the language apps on my phone —

These are only the cassettes, books, study materials that are actually on the book shelves in my room. This doesn’t count what I still have in storage .

And when I skimmed through the text book that accompanies the “French in Three Months” cassettes above, I was so disheartened to see just how much French I actually used to know!!

I used to do business with French publishers a lot, so I used to actually need to know French. But I have always loved the language, since I was a little girl, when my Grandma first taught me how to sing “Frere Jacques” and taught me some simple French words. (She also taught me a little bit of Yiddish!!)

I have studied French, officially, since I was about 9 years old, back in Cleveland, and then I never stopped. (And even when I was confined to the mental hospital for 6 months at age 15, my mother arranged for a French tutor to come visit me once a week, anything to try to keep me engaged with living.)

And, you know, this doesn’t count that I also studied Chinese (Mandarin), and Hebrew. I used to really know these languages (and these alphabets), too.

It’s overwhelming, reacquainting myself with how much I used to know that I’ve essentially forgotten.

And this doesn’t count the brief times I studied Spanish, Italian, and German, and Portuguese.

That feeling of: where did the time go? And also the feeling of: Why keep bothering?

However. I will.

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Okay, here’s this.

It sort of took my breath away because I looked at it and realized: that was where my heart was; that’s where my heart has always been. This weird photo is my whole life.

It looks so strange from this angle, and yet, even from this angle, I know it so well:

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And here’s this!!

This is a pre-cursor to tomorrow, which is Nick Cave’s birthday:

And then on Tuesday, this happens:

So, I’m guessing we will have more “official” Nick Cave photos then!

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Okay.

After finding those letters, and the photo, from Jack Red Eagle the other day, and thought that I could not be any more astounded by my own life–

While yet again looking for something entirely different yesterday evening, I found a folder that had all the letters my birth father had written to me.

He did not write many because usually we talked on the phone. A lot. In fact, he was always making these rules about how we had to stop talking long distance (which was expensive back then) and write letters instead. But that never lasted long.

Re-reading this specific letter yesterday, blew me away. And what’s interesting about the envelope is that he didn’t put my last name. I was still a professional singer back then and I went by “Marilyn Jaye.” My birth dad was so proud of my songwriting. He was also a songwriter, guitar player and singer (blues/country). I also like how he wrote “Suite 5” when that was truly a hellhole apartment!

This whole idea of “Time” and how it has really been getting to me this past year, well, finding those letters from my birth father is just a prime example of what I can’t process:

I first became obsessed with finding my birth dad when I was 12. It took me 17 years to find him. I knew him after that for 10 years before he died, and now he has been dead for close to 27 years. And that relationship was the most important journey of my entire life.

I just don’t get it. “Time” and what it is. (Although I am doing better about reminding myself to focus on “NOW” and allowing for how the past shaped the now, and to find joy in that.)

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Okay!!

I guess I’ll get outside and get the summer stuff into the barn. And try to do a little writing before heading out to see the retired Minister and his lovely cat! OOPS! Of course, I meant WIFE!!

Enjoy your Sunday, wherever you are in the world.

Thanks for visiitng.

I love you guys. See ya!

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In keeping with everything fucking with my head these days–

I’m still listening to the 3-CD collection of Tom Petty live radio broadcasts (Transmission Impossible), but this morning, I switched to the 1st CD.

I hadn’t heard it in a long time. In fact, someone I loved very dearly, also named Tom, was still alive and in my life — and also a huge Tom Petty fan — the last time I listened to it.

I was literally sitting at the breakfast table, eating my breakfast when this particular song came on, and so many memories of the “old” Tom just flooded me. And the song lyrics always captured what we were about. Even though it’s an old song, I vividly remember the first time he and I heard Tom Petty’s version, together. And how in love we were. (For 2 months, before he died.)

I started to cry right there at the breakfast table this morning.

He’s been gone 7 years this month. When the fuck did that happen?

This is an old Dave Clark Five song, by the way. From 1965. TP & the HBs knock it out of the park.

Okay. Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, “Any Way You Want It”, 1987, Live at the Coliseum. Enjoy, gang.

“Any Way You Want It”

Any way you want it
You can call me any day, hey, hey, hey
Any way you want it
You can always hear me say, hey, hey, hey

It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
Any way you want it
That’s the way it will be

You don’t want money
You don’t want a diamond ring, hey, hey, hey
You say you want my lovin’
More than any other thing, hey, hey, hey

It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
Any way you want it
That’s the way it will be

Any way, any way you want it
That’s all right by me
Any way, any way you want it
That’s the way it will be

Any way you want it
You can call me any day, hey, hey, hey
Any way you want it
You can always hear me say, hey, hey, hey

It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
Any way you want it
That’s the way it will be

Any way, any way you want it
That’s all right by me
Any way, any way you want it
That’s the way it will be

Any way you want it
You can call me any day, hey, hey, hey
Any way you want it
You can always hear me say, hey, hey, hey

It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
It’s all right (it’s all right)
Any way you want it
That’s the way it will be
That’s the way it will be
That’s the way it will be
That’s the way it will be

c – 1965 Dave Clark