Okay. I’m back.
And I slept great. The AC was on, and all cats & kittens — except Doris, who is exceedingly well behaved — were out in the hall. All night. So nothing disturbed me.
However–
I kept dreaming about Trump. He was helping me fill out a ton of forms.
The dream went on and on and on. And it seemed like I was having a hard time grasping how to fill out the endless forms.
Why the heck was I dreaming about that??
And, you know — with my magnificent brain, why was it so hard for me to figure out how to fill out a form?
At least I woke up feeling like I could handle things again, just generally.
Yesterday, was more of a rough day. Mostly because I was feeling sort of disillusioned and tired. (Loyal readers of this lofty blog know how much I hate having to actually go out and work , especially double shifts, and especially since I’m, you know, semi-retired…)
But today’s a new day, and I have the retired Minister and his wife later this afternoon. And that is, overall, just a really pleasant shift. Watching reruns on MeTV or old movies that end up affecting me in some totally unexpected, emotional, way.
And it probably doesn’t surprise you to learn that they have a big beautiful fluffy cat named Autumn, who sits next to me, curled up on the couch, during my entire shift.
She does this every week. And the retired Minister and his wife always say: “She really likes you!”
I smile, but silently, I’m saying a little ruefully: Yeah. Cats like me…
And maybe I should add here — although you should be forewarned that it could give you a heart attack — I now have 3 more strays (in addition to KonTiki of the Great Outdoors) who show up for breakfast on the kitchen porch every morning at around 5:30AM.
Mr. Sandypants — the one who got shot just over his left eye, by someone with a BB gun a few months back. (Thankfully, my neighbors took on the expense of taking him to the vet, but he’s doing just great.)
And another large black cat — with a white spot under his chin and a couple of white toes. He is so sweet. I’m pretty sure he lives in my barn.
And then a small blondie, who’s missing most of her tail. Back when Brandon Mitchell was living in Crazeysburg last year, he was feeding her because she’d been abandoned by her owners, who had moved away.
Brandon moved away, too, but the cat recently found my kitchen porch…
Actually, Brandon and I saved each other’s lives last summer, as things were getting crazy-intense before the election. He would always stop by to make sure I was doing okay. (Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that I was in a relentless struggle with PTSD last summer.)
Brandon is a well-known Death-Metal record producer, and was an avid Trump supporter, too, which was a huge no-no in the music world, for fear that a Trump Presidency would bring a halt to all the sex-trafficking running rampant in the Death-Metal scene… So he, too, was dealing with an unbelievable amount of stress last summer, since people everywhere were basically out to permanently shut him up.
Anyway. A photo of Brandon (photographer unknown), at the opposite end of my street in Crazeysburg. What a great guy he was. He really looked out for me and for all the older folks and the kids in the village:
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Oh, but I have to add, gang, that yesterday, both shifts went splendidly. My favorite nearly-95-year-old Japanese client (he turns 95 a week from today) was in a really spiritual mood. He talked about all kinds of interesting things.
And then I went to see the retired Chaplain who is back from Florida, who I just adore. And, as always, she and I talked about amazing stuff the entire time and the hours absolutely FLEW by. When the next caregiver showed up to relieve me, I was just floored. I had no idea where the time went.
As I was leaving, she prayed over me, specifically for the success of our play, “The Guide to Being Fabulous,” and then she took my hand and said, “I love you.”
That kind of thing makes it so easy to drive off into a beautiful evening.
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Okay.
Here’s this. From yesterday morning. While I was in bed, drinking my coffee, the neighbor across the street from me was mowing his lawn and a couple of the kittens were spellbound:
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And while we wait the additional 2 days before Nick Cave and Colin Greenwood take the stage in Bulgaria for 2 sold out shows—
Here’s this. AGAIN. I love this photo!
Nick Cave in 1986:
And since I still can’t find a link to the new “Train Dreams” song from the upcoming Netflix film, here’s this gem, instead!!
From one of the greatest albums of all time, The Firstborn Is Dead, “Train Long Suffering”. 1985.
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And I think that’s it for now. I have some things I want to do — and/or sit and think about — before I leave for my shift today.
Enjoy your Sunday, wherever you are in the world.
Thanks for visiting,
I love you guys. See ya!
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I leave you with this!!
As the 51st anniversary of Greg’s death approaches in 10 days — here’s a song that always makes me think of him, no matter how many millions of times I hear it.
The song was popular back when I first fell in love with Greg, and I have a crystal-clear memory of sitting with him on the school bus one sunny morning in 1973, when the song came on the radio. We were both in Junior High School. (He was killed the following year.)
And, yes, I still miss him, gang. I told him I would love him forever and I wasn’t kidding.
Joni Mitchell’s Top 40 hit, “You Turn Me On (I’m A Radio)”, 1972. From her album, For the Roses. Enjoy.
"You Turn Me On (I'm A Radio)"
If you're driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who's bound to love you
Oh honey you turn me on
I'm a radio
I'm a country station
I'm a little bit corny
I'm a wildwood flower
Waving for you
Broadcasting tower
Waving for you
And I'm sending you out
This signal here
I hope you can pick it up
Loud and clear
I know you don't like weak women
You get bored so quick
And you don't like strong women
'Cause they're hip to your tricks
It's been dirty for dirty
Down the line
But you know
I come when you whistle
When you're loving and kind
But if you've got too many doubts
If there's no good reception for me
Then tune me out, 'cause honey
Who needs the static
It hurts the head
And you wind up cracking
And the day goes dismal
From "Breakfast Barney"
To the sign-off prayer
What a sorry face you get to wear
I'm going to tell you again now
If you're still listening there
If you're driving into town
With a dark cloud above you
Dial in the number
Who's bound to love you
If you're lying on the beach
With the transistor going
Kick off the sandflies honey
The love's still flowing
If your head says forget it
But your heart's still smoking
Call me at the station
The lines are open
© January 24, 1972; Joni Mitchell Pub Corp (as "I'm a Radio")
Marilyn's Room 