Yes, this morning was so unbelievably beautiful, peaceful, and quiet, that I was actually off to town to get the groceries before I even had my second cup o’ joe!

And by “groceries,” I mostly mean all the food for the many, many cats.

But I did pop in at my usual market to get organic and Non-GMO “this and that” [read: snacks]. I didn’t really need much, because I don’t go through quite as much food in a week as my cats do.

But it was really a lovely drive today. It kinda took my breath away.

I try to take as many backroads as possible and avoid the freeway until I absolutely have to get on it for the last 5 miles into town. So my whole Being was just sort of rejoicing this morning while I drove — and I really needed it.

I am still just emotionally and mentally and physically wiped out, gang.

I made great progress on the bio/resume stuff for Sandra yesterday, though, and I hope to have it all done and ready to send back to her by later today.

I really, really, really need my plate to be clear for a little while so that I can get back to focusing on my own stuff — until we need to tackle Act Two of the play, which is any day now.

So here’s hoping today will be fruitful.

Okay. Well, Phil did not do his livestream last night. We’ll see if it pans out for tonight or not. (At 9PM Eastern, if it does work out.)

Oh! Here’s one interesting thing! At the market today, they had finally taken down all that bullet-proof glass garbage that they’d put up around all the cash registers back in 2020. So I guess the fake pandemic is officially over!!

All joking aside, that was such a nice feeling, gang.

So here we go. All signs pointing to a really nice day.

Okay! I’m going to “sort of” leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning.

I actually didn’t listen to music this morning. I watched a really, really, REALLY old episode of “Yogi Bear” — and it was primo Yogi!! From the 4th season, when Boo-Boo was already in the show, but it was still early enough in the 9-season run to actually be funny. And the animation was still great — for Hanna-Barbera, that is.

The episode I saw this morning, was when, thanks to his fairy godmother, everything Yogi touched turned into a picnic basket, including Boo-Boo and Ranger Smith…. it actually brought a smile or two to my face, and made the otherwise exhausting getting-out-of-bed business that much easier to live through.

So I leave you with the really really great Yogi Bear theme song (!!) –not the first one they made in the late 50s; the song from the mid-60s. So, slip back to yesteryear for a moment and enjoy!

Thanks for visiting, gang. I hope you have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world.

I love you guys. See ya!

I did spend most of the day, yesterday, trying to put all my notes together for Sandra’s new “official” bio — we’re talking 12 pages of notes, over 50 movie credits, 5 TV series, about 25 theater credits, and an untold amount of appearances on episodic TV shows, and then her career as a cabaret singer in Washington DC before any of that other stuff started…

At one point, I had to call her to get background stuff sorted out — from the years before I had even met her. And she was a little fuzzy on the dates & details. She said, “I remember the White House Jazz on the Lawn series was during the Carter Administration…”

Uh-oh. That’s going pretty far back.

So I said, “If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll call Wayne and see what he remembers.”

Wayne, my ex-husband in NYC, has been close friends with Sandra for a really long time. I knew they became friends in DC, where Wayne began his professional acting career (in theater), and they wound up as roommates for a while in NYC in the early 80s. But I never knew any of the details about how they met or when.

Wow. So.

It turns out that Wayne has an incredible memory.

He recalled exactly when and where they met (March 1977, at a cabaret show). And each time they met after that (summer of ’78, and again in the summer of ’79), until they became actual friends — for life.

I won’t post all the details he shared with me, because it’s personal stuff about their private lives. But it just amazed me that Wayne remembered all that stuff. So many amazing details about Sandra. And that’s going back over 45 years.

(I will add this fact– in 1980, Wayne gave Sandra the final $100 she needed for the plane fare out to Colorado to get her re-assignment surgery. )

The details Wayne shared with me covered that gap in my knowledge of Sandra. I know so much about her amazing life before she became successful, because all of that is in the play we’ve been working on together for 8 years.

So it was really cool for me to finally see just how she made that transition from who she’d been on the streets, to who she was when I met her. (When Wayne introduced me to Sandra, in 1992, he and I were living together, engaged to be married, and she lived in Toronto by then. She was in NYC, auditioning for the Broadway show, The Buddy Holly Story.) (She got the part.)

It just humanized everything for me — having Wayne’s side of the story.

I moved to NYC in 1980. Sandra moved there in 1982, and Wayne moved there in 1984. I realized yesterday, that we all share that cultural memory of what NYC was like in that era. And suddenly, my own perspective of life back then became part of the play about Sandra’s life.

Until that moment, I was always the “outside observer” to all the facts . It’s hard to explain. But Wayne’s memories changed all of that for me yesterday.

Anyway. It’s always great to chat on Sunday with Wayne!

He always makes a “Sunday dinner” for himself and his roommate, and he sends a photo out to a group on Instagram (always including the filthy ashtray and the lit cigarette, which is my favorite part!!!).

I was “officially” added to the group yesterday evening —

All right, gang. I gotta scoot! I need to get back to that bio.

And then, after that, Val in Brooklyn and I are going to get back to work on my zazzle “coffee mug” store and marilynsroombooks.com!!!

I hope you have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world.

Oh! Phil is supposed to do a livestream tonight at 9PM Eastern. Check his channel later to confirm!

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys. See ya!

******************

Another great one from my Top 23+3 entire albums… from my Best of Nick Cave Playlist!!

“Brother, My Cup Is Empty”, from Henry’s Dream, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, 1992. Enjoy!

Yes, Thank God It’s Sunday.

I sort of have the day off, if you don’t include spending the entire day either working on Sandra’s bio/resume, and/or working with her, later, over the phone…

At least I don’t have to drive 50 miles, and put on my happy/helpful face, and find the energy to genuinely be nice to people for 7-9 hours, while being utterly exhausted and thoroughly preoccupied, and trying really hard to convince myself to just hang on…

When, when, when, right? When is that full disclosure coming? When will the big shift finally, well, shift?

It gets so hard to even get out of bed in the morning. The overwhelming fatigue from 3 years of it. Even though I don’t report on very much of it on the blog anymore, I haven’t left the movement; I still stay on top of the channels, the podcasts, the updates. The waiting is almost as exhausting as all the reporting was. (Almost.)

Not having to get out of bed and do anything but feed the cats at least helps me actually get out of bed.

So, yay for Sunday…

This morning, “Nancy Drew” posted this and I am definitely one of those people she is talking about. So, in the event that you are, too — here is what she said. It might help:

As far as “the job” goes, I really don’t have any complaints. It’s just the physical need to be present there, when there is so much other stuff that could use my attention, my creativity, my energy — that, plus all the driving– that’s what exhausts me.

One nice thing that has developed, strangely enough: quite a few of the customers from the health food store have discovered that I’m now working at the train station. (Different towns, but right next to each other.)

So not only do I make cocktails for people, I answer their questions about somewhat obscure health supplements or about which naturopaths or holistic doctors in the area are getting the best results for people and why, etc. And I’m still trying to help people (women, especially) reclaim their bodies & their minds after having gotten the MRNAs.

It is incredibly satisfying, when they come back to tell me, “Oh my god, Marilyn, that stuff is actually working.”

Obviously, I don’t mind doing that. All the information is still right there in my head. But I’d always rather be at home, working on 2 particular novels-in-progress — both books extremely transgressive — that, with any luck, will long outlive me and act as a further warning to humanity to never, ever, ever let this happen again.

And when I think of the enormity of what “this” has been , I just want to lay down and die. The evil that humanity is capable of, over and over and over– most of all, nowadays, to its children — and the amount of people, the world over, who are oblivious to it and who just think it’s normal now to doubt the existence of a higher creative force (often called “God”), without having a clue that this was done to them systematically…

Talk about opening that Nietzschean door to let evil just walk on in. (Jettison morality; kill God, and you get to allow everything with a shrug and just go about your business.)

Anyway. On an oddly similar note…

This was very interesting yesterday. If you study the history of the Bible and not just the theology of it, there are all sorts of other horrors to consider that come under the banner of “God.” (When people say that they follow the Bible, live their lives by it, I right away wonder: Wow. Have you ever actually read it??)

Anyway. Worth one hour of your time.

Ross K. Nichols – Sacrifice: A Dogma of Death (1 hr):

*********************

Okay.

The laundry is done and I’m going to get back to work on sorting out Sandra’s incredible bio.

Enjoy your Sunday, wherever you are in the world!

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys. See ya!

*********************

Another great one from my Top 23+3 Entire Albums list of Nick Cave’s best!

“Train Long Suffering,” 1985. From the Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds album, The First Born is Dead. Enjoy!

“Train-Long Suffering”

Woo-wooooooo Woo!
In the name of pain!
(In the name of pain and suffering)
In the name of pain!
(In the name of pain and suffering)
There comes a train!
(There comes a train)
Yeah!
A long black train
(There comes a train)
Lord, a long black train

Woo-woo! Woo-woo!

Punched from the tunnel
(The tunnel of love is long and lonely)
Engines steaming like a fist
(A fistful of memories)
Into the jolly jaw of morning
(Yeah! O yeah!)
O baby it gets smashed!
(You know that it gets smashed)
O baby it gets smashed!
(You know that it gets smashed)

I kick every goddamn splinter
Into all the looking eyes in the world
Into all the laughing eyes
Of all the girls in the world
Oooooo-woooooh
She ain’t never comin back
She ain’t never comin back
She ain’t never comin back
She ain’t never comin back
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
The name of the pain is
A train long-suffering

On rails of pain
(On rails of pain and suffering)
There comes a train
(There comes a train long-suffering)
On rails of pain
(On rails of pain and suffering)
O baby blow its whistle in the rain

Woo-oo Woo! Woo-oo Woo!

Who’s the engine driver?
(The engine drivers over yonder)
His name is Memory
(His name is Memory)
O Memory is his name
(Woooooo-wo!)
Destination: Misery
(Pain and misery)
O pain and misery
(Pain and misery)
O pain and misery
Hey! Hey!
(Pain and misery)
Hey! That’s a sad lookin sack!
Oooh that’s a sad lookin sack!
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
Ooh the name of the pain is
A train long-suffering

There is a train!
(It’s got a name)
Yeah! It’s a train long-suffering
O Lord a train!
(A long black train)
Lord! Of pain and suffering
Each night so black
(O yeah! So black)
And in the darkness of my sack
I’m missing you baby
(I’m missing you)
And I just dunno what to do
(dunno what to do)
(Train long-suffering)
(Train long-suffering)
(Train long-suffering)
(Train long-suffering)
O she ain’t never comin back
O she ain’t never comin back
O she ain’t never comin back
O she ain’t never comin back
And the name of the pain is…
And the name of the pain is…
The name of the train is…
The name of the train is
Pain and suffering

c- 1985 Nick Cave

Yes! Going on a picnic with somebody else’s kids, at a really quiet and beautiful lake!

And, yes, have a vintage station wagon, too.

But what I will be doing instead isn’t the worst thing in the world:

Take a 5-minute walk to the far right of this photo and you will be at the 200-year-old train station where I work in the evenings!

And I go inside, outside; inside, outside; inside, outside all evening long. So I get to look at a big bunch of beautiful trees and an incredible sky, wherein the stars come out in the evening and birds are always soaring. And right next door to the train station is a huge — and I mean huge — old barn, full of bails of hay. And just up the hill a tiny bit is the picturesque and perfectly maintained old graveyard where all the first settlers of the town are buried.

So it’s definitely not the worst place I’ve ever worked, or the worst view I’ve not only ever had but been an actual part of, when I’m doing all that “inside, outside; inside, outside” stuff.

So it isn’t terrible. I’m just effing tired. Beyond your ability to comprehend, most days.

But on a happy note!!

Indy, the brother of Alan the cat– the brother who hides in my storage closet all day and only comes out at night when I’m sleeping because he was horribly abused & abandoned in a dumpster as a tiny kitten so he distrusts people, to put it mildly; that Indy not only let me pet him today, but he actually came over to me and wanted to be petted.

It was amazing, gang. He’s been hiding in my storage closet for 2 and half months already.

What a wonderfully auspicious day!

Okay.

I wanted to share this, because this is the kind of thing that makes me so angry, gang. The Guardian used to believe in child sex trafficking. Now it’s just “Q-Anon paranoia”. (And there is no Q-Anon, for chrissakes. There is Q and there are anons…) Anyway.

From Bannon’s War Room:

“Enemy of the people

Enemy of the children”

**********************

And there’s a 3-part article getting underway at Real Raw News that you might want to stay on top of. Those FEMA camps were real, gang. I started blogging about them back in 2012, during the O’Bozo Regime, and some of my readers thought I was some sort of “conspiracy theorist” nut.

JAG Convicts former FEMA Boss Brock Long, Part One.

**********************

That’s kind of it.

Oh, I did get my phone service back on yesterday and that was a long and quite curious story, so I’ll leave it for another time. But I do believe the Deep State infrastructure of this great land of ours is truly on its way out.

So. That’s cool.

Have a great Friday, wherever you are in the world!!

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys. See ya!

*********************

Yes! I leave you with this!

You knew it was only a matter of time, and the time has arrived!

My breakfast-listening music from this morning. From the summer of 1984, the absolutely mega smash hit: Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.”!

I used to play this album nonstop that summer, when I was still living in the railroad flat on East 12th Street in New York’s East Village.

When I met my birth dad, 5 years later in 1989, it turned out that this song personified him. It truly did. He’d been a Navy SEAL in Vietnam, and when we first began talking to each other on the phone — late at night for me, because there was a 3-hour difference in our time zones — I would lie in my bed in the dark, and listen, spellbound, to his stories about Vietnam; stories he had never told his wife (who was dead by this time) or his stepkids because he never wanted to upset them. But he wanted to confide in me, to tell me what it had been like for him over there.

I cannot adequately say how much that meant to me. I’d been searching for my birth father for about 17 years by the time he finally called me –seemingly out of the blue — one evening in the Spring of 1989, while I was sitting alone in my bedroom, watching a rerun of “The Andy Griffith Show.”

ME: “Hello?”

HIM: “Is this Marilyn?”

ME: “Yes.”

HIM: “Marilyn, my name’s Don May. I don’t really know how to say this but I think I’m your father.”

It is sufficient to say that, after that, my life changed forever.

This morning, at around 6am, while making breakfast for 11 cats and myself, this song came on the CD player in my kitchen and stopped me in my tracks. And I actually cried, just a wee little bit… I knew my birth dad for 10 difficult years, until he died from a cancer he got from being exposed to Agent Orange in Vietnam…

All right. Enjoy, gang.

“Born In The U.S.A.”

Born down in a dead man’s town
The first kick I took was when I hit the ground
You end up like a dog that’s been beat too much
‘Til you spend half your life just coverin’ up

Born in the U.S.A
I was born in the U.S.A
I was born in the U.S.A
Born in the U.S.A

Got in a little hometown jam
So they put a rifle in my hand
Sent me off to a foreign land
To go and kill the yellow man

Born in the U.S.A
I was born in the U.S.A
I was born in the U.S.A
I was born in the U.S.A

Come back home to the refinery
Hiring man says, “Son if it was up to me”
Went down to see my V.A. man
He said, “Son, don’t you understand”

I had a brother at Khe Sanh
Fighting off the Viet Cong
They’re still there, he’s all gone
He had a woman he loved in Saigon
I got a picture of him in her arms now

Down in the shadow of the penitentiary
Out by the gas fires of the refinery
I’m ten years burning down the road
Nowhere to run ain’t got nowhere to go

Born in the U.S.A
I was born in the U.S.A. now
Born in the U.S.A
I’m a long gone Daddy in the U.S.A. now
Born in the U.S.A
Born in the U.S.A
Born in the U.S.A
I’m a cool rockin’ Daddy in the U.S.A. now

c- 1982 Bruce Springsteen

Well, my phone is still saying “SOS Only” and I’ve tried everything that you would normally do to get it to go away, but it remains.

This means that at some point, early yesterday evening, while sitting at my desk in my room, I somehow managed to get out of my carrier’s range of service for the first time in twelve years…

So curious — that it happened only moments after that military helicopter flew over my house. (If you don’t follow Q, none of this will register with you!) (Oh! And the Signal app did indeed work! One of my Q-following friends was able to text me and receive my texts last night.)

But anyway.

Not only can I not chat with or call my phone service provider right now, but most of their web site — the part where you can actually interact in some meaningful way — is suddenly missing. Although, oddly, the app on my phone is still working in a very interactive way… strange, right?

And this after they just sent me a new SIM card the other day. And my iPhone, except for that pesky “not being able to call or text anyone” part, is working just perfectly. [In fact, better and faster than it had been before the new SIM card arrived.]

Well, as a last resort, I emailed their service department. Perhaps they do things the old-fashioned way, like respond to email. We’ll see.

Just so curious, right, gang?? (Plus, my carrier provides mostly to politically active senior citizens across America who vote, and it’s been around for a couple of decades. Just curiouser and curiouser.)

Hmmmm….

So. On to other topics.

My life is beautiful.

I decided this (again) last night, as I awoke suddenly — the room was dark and very hot, all the windows were wide open, and the world outside my windows was so peaceful. My incredible Lasko oscillating tower fan was doing that great thing it does at the foot of my bed (i.e., makes sleeping extremely comfortable when the room is otherwise unbelievably hot). (And it also has an ion thingy, and a remote control, and a timer… I’ve had it for 5 years now and I hope it never dies.)

I looked next to me, and there was Al (Alan), the visiting cat. Blissed out and sound asleep in the breezy path of the Lasko fan. (He and his brother, Indy, are here now until August, because their home didn’t pass the electrical re-wiring inspection and the inspector can’t go out there again until the first week of August…)

Anyway. He is such a sweet cat, and he was so blissed out, sound asleep right next me. Huckleberry and Doris were stretched out, asleep on the floor, over by my desk. (They are cats — not fruit and/or people.)

And it wasn’t raining, so the roof wasn’t leaking. And all the bills are paid for now. And for that brief shining moment, every creep, everywhere was leaving me the fuck alone…

Everything was just so calm, and so peaceful and life has mostly been everything but that for the past 3 years. So it was just so beautiful, to wake up for even a moment and discover that life was perfect — wow.

And here it is — a brand new day. We’ll see how it goes. I’m back to the job again for the next 3 days. So that always kind of puts everything in my real world on hold.

It is what it is, for now, gang. The alternative is to not be here at all and I’m not ready for that yet.

If you are following any of the insane narratives in the MSM right now, good luck with that. They are absolutely off the charts insane. My best advice is to just ignore all of it and enjoy your life. (Especially that fucking bizarre cocaine at the White House ridiculousness.) (The fake Biden is not at the White House, neither is the fake or real Hunter. They’re just trying to slam you over the head with the idea that justice in the US is corrupt and they will find a way to arrest Trump for everything.) (I’m guessing that next they’ll find cocaine at Mar-A Lago and “arrest” him again, while Hunter walks free….) (Of course, we’re also hearing that Trump was never actually even “arrested”…)

Anyway!

Enjoy your Thursday, gang!

I hope it is peaceful and quiet, wherever you are in the world. (Which means you’re probably not in France…) (Although, Peitor, my friend and business partner who lives in Nice, France, texted me a lovely photo yesterday morning, from the beach. The South of France looks way different from the other photos coming out of France…)

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys. See ya!

*******************

Never A Dull Moment!! What a great record that was!!!

My listening-music from this morning! Rod Stewart’s cover of Dylan’s “Mama, You Been On My Mind.” From July of 1972!!!! Enjoy.

Sadly, yes, the holiday is over. And now it’s back to town again to get the groceries.

Luckily, it’s another really pretty day out there, gang. So it should be a nice drive. (Plus, I acquired this really happy family, and their dog, to go to town with me this time. Just to keep me constantly distracted. Nothing beats pandemonium in the car when you’re trying to drive!)

But, honestly, gang– I just want to stay here at my desk and work on Novitiate!! I made such great progress with it yesterday.

In fact, I’m starting to wonder if this is an actual novel and not a novella. We shall see.

However, the sooner I get to town and back, the sooner I can get back to work on the book. So I’m gonna scoot.

There is nothing to really report, anyway. The news couldn’t be more fake and/or more horrible when it isn’t fake, so I’ll just leave you to peruse it on your own.

And my life is quiet (for now) and really just sort of beautiful.

Enjoy your 5th of July, wherever you are in the world.

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys. See ya!

********************

I leave you with this!

A friend from NYC spent his July 4th holiday last night in Asbury Park, NJ. This is a town with a famous amusement park on the Jersey Shore. Bruce Springsteen is from there. And his first album was titled, Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ. So, of course, my friend’s message said, “Greetings from Asbury Park, NJ!”

And in return, I sent him a link to the song below (from Springsteen’s second album, The Wild, The Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle.) I’m guessing my friend dropped everything to play the song on his phone, because when you’re on the boardwalk of a famous and noisy amusement park at the crowded seashore, and the waves are crashing and fireworks are filling the crazy sky, you really want to drop everything and listen to a song that is 50 years old (!!!!).

Anyway. I really love this song. “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)”. And truth be told, when I went briefly to college, in the fall of 1978, my roommate and I embarked on a passionate little sex-a-thon (meaning that we were each in love with other girls who no longer loved us, so we had wild & very emotional sex with each other, for about a year, to distract us from all the unrequited love in our lives that year). And my roommate’s name was Sandy.

I never forget her. Especially when there are songs like this to remind me. And it still breaks my heart just a little bit. (She was tall and slender, with very long, wavy red hair, and she wore glasses and was studying Engineering and was really, really funny and incredibly smart.)

So here it is: “4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)”. 1973. Enjoy.

Yesterday evening, miracles began happening!

Around 7PM, the weather suddenly and totally shifted and it became just a glorious evening. Here is a photo I took from the upstairs window, looking out over my neighbors’ backyards. Nary so much as a hint of rain:

And if you’re interested in some of the history of Crazeysburg (and there actually is quite a lot, because back in olden times, people actually used to live here…)

Anyway. If you look closely between a couple of those houses, you’ll see a large boat. That boat is actually docked on what’s left of a very old canal. (There’s actually an alley and an old canal running diagonally between that white house and that boat.)

Anyway, Crazeysburg used to be one of the Ohio locks on the Erie Canal. I believe we were Lock #19 but I’m not positive. It would have looked a little like this (although this lock is one county over, Lock #18):

And while it was foggy when I awoke this morning at 6AM, the fog cleared pretty quickly and suddenly it was a really, really pretty morning!

And since God saw fit to give me a really nice 4th of July holiday, I, in turn, kept my promise to the world-at-large, and I got out of bed, threw on some shorts and a tee shirt, and I went outside and did some weeding!! Yay. Finally.

The story of my weeds is a frustrating one.

Since last summer, I have had a nice and very reliable 13-year-old neighbor boy who cuts my grass every week. He is not a “professional lawncare guy”, as I’ve had for every single summer since I moved away from NYC, but he was very reliable and he did cut my grass. He just never even so much as touched any of the weeds, so I would do that part myself.

This year, he asked if I wanted his friend to whack all my weeds for an additional $10 a week. And I was very happy to say, “Yes!”

Well, 2 months of paying the extra $10 a week — and my weeds were basically out of control. So I let the $10-a-week part of the two boys go.

But now my weeds were out of control and I had to deal with it. Yay.

However, deal with it I finally did!

I don’t use any kind of chemicals on my yard, so I had to pull them all out by hand.

I got about 85% of it done this morning before it just became way too hot to stay out there another minute. But I was so happy to get that much done.

And yesterday, after Sandra and I finished working on the play, and before I had my wonderful weekly chat with Val in Brooklyn, I came to a momentous decision: for the rest of my 4-day holiday (I’m on day #3 now), I am not doing any more “work” (i.e., stuff having to do with the play); I am only going to spend time writing Novitiate.

Valerie said yesterday: “If you want to work on your zazzle store tomorrow, or if you want help getting MarilynsRoomBooks.com setup, give me a call.”

And even though I usually drop everything to chat (or work over the phone) with Val, I said: “Val, I’m only working on Novitiate tomorrow, and for the rest of my days off!”

So I feel pretty excited here this morning, gang.

And with that, I am going to get started around here.

Have a wonderful 4th of July, if you live State-side. And if you don’t, then be like Keith — marry a famous American supermodel, move to Connecticut, raise a couple of really pretty blonde daughters, and celebrate the 4th that way!!!

From Keith’s Instagram page just now:

Have a terrific Tuesday, whatever you end up doing!!

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys! See ya!

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Just some of my outside-pulling-the-weeds-bright-and-early music from this morning!

Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band, oddly enough, also the summer of 1978! “The Promised Land” — and I still believe in it, gang! Enjoy!!!! (Yes, you gotta play it loud — otherwise you won’t hear it all the way outside on your front walk…)

“The Promised Land”

On a rattlesnake speedway in the Utah desert
I pick up my money and head back into town
Driving ‘cross the Waynesboro county line
I got the radio on and I’m just killing time
Working all day in my daddy’s garage
Driving all night chasing some mirage
Pretty soon little girl I’m gonna take charge

The dogs on Main Street howl ’cause they understand
If I could take one moment into my hands
Mister I ain’t a boy, no I’m a man
And I believe in a promised land

I’ve done my best to live the right way
I get up every morning and go to work each day
But your eyes go blind and your blood runs cold
Sometimes I feel so weak I just want to explode
Explode and tear this whole town apart
Take a knife and cut this pain from my heart
Find somebody itching for something to start

The dogs on Main Street howl ’cause they understand
If I could reach one moment into my hands
Mister I ain’t a boy, no I’m a man
And I believe in a promised land

Well there’s a dark cloud rising from the desert floor
I packed my bags and I’m heading straight into the storm
Gonna be a twister to blow everything down
That ain’t got the faith to stand its ground
Blow away the dreams that tear you apart
Blow away the dreams that break your heart
Blow away the lies that leave you nothing but lost and brokenhearted

The dogs on Main Street howl ’cause they understand
If I could take one moment into my hands
Mister I ain’t a boy, no I’m a man
And I believe in a promised land

c- 1978 Bruce Springsteen

All right, gang.

It is day number 2 of my 4-day holiday for the 4th of July and it is starting off– yet again– quite auspiciously!!

Yes! Rain. A little more rain. And then even more rain!

Not that I mind rain, per se, but my roof is only just precariously remaining attached to my house…

Buckets everywhere downstairs. My ceiling is leaking like crazy.

And it’s a “holiday.”

(BTW in case you’re keeping count: USDA RD turned me down for a home improvement loan, HUD turned me down, Habitat for Humanity turned me down…)

Well, maybe this time, next year….

Miracles do happen, you know.

New Topic.

I had meant to post this wonderful photo yesterday morning but then I totally forgot!! And then Johnny Depp went and posted it to his Instagram page late yesterday afternoon!

He beat me to it, fair & square. But I regale you with it now!

And may I add this!! A vintage TV commercial from my wee bonny girlhood!! (“Johnny Smoke” Anti-Smoking Ad Campaign from the 1960s!!)

My girlhood, gang. You gotta love it. (I sure did.)

Okay.

I honestly have nothing more to post this morning.

I have to get ready to work with Sandra for a few hours. And then a chat with Valerie, after that. And laundry is in the middle of being halfway finished (try to do the math on that: in the middle of halfway…). So I gotta scoot!

I hope you have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world.

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys. See ya!

*********************

Making-the-bed-and-doing-laundry- music from this morning!! Enjoy!!