Tag Archives: John Fogerty Rock and Roll Girls

Best Morning Ever!

And by that of course I mean that the raccoons have returned to my maple tree! A mom and 2 cubs. They’re chattering away as I type.  (If you scroll down to my Instagram feed, you can see a photo of them. Click on it and it gets larger but it takes you to my Instagram page. For some reason, the photo has disappeared from my phone.)

Anyway. I love them. The hole in the center of the tree is parallel to the window I can see out of from my bed. I don’t even have to lift my wee bonny head from my pillow to see them. I can just lie there and watch them and they are so cute.

Okay. Well! Thank you to all of you who are visiting my “In the Shadow of Narcissa” site even though I already told you there is nothing there yet but a photo!! You are making me feel guilty!

ME (stumbling upon my stats page this morning because I still can’t figure my way around the back end of that new site): “Oh my goodness! Visitors! And I have nothing to give them!”

It’s sort of like having house guests and no food in the house…

I am going to try, once again, to work on that today and post something there. Although I wasn’t expecting it to take this long and need to focus more on the play. But we’ll see how it goes.

My solution to the problem of not being able to get the new site to do what I want it to do, is that I’ve made it just one single page. That’s it. You can follow it. You can contact me. But that is the only bell and the only whistle.  I am just going to post there on that one single page and that’s it.

So frustrating! (grumble grumble) And I’ve been building web sites since 1997, when you basically had to build the whole darn thing from HTML.

Why do they have to “make things better” only to then make them impossible to figure out?

A dear friend of mine, who is almost 80, asked me to look at her brand new dishwasher for her on Monday because it wasn’t washing the dishes. She would load up the soap, press “start,” but the soap would never be used, just be spilled all over, dry,  when she opened it, hours later. And her husband, who has dementia, kept putting dirty dishes away in the cupboards. She was going nuts.

HER (heavy sigh): “I should have gotten another Kitchenaide instead of this one.”

ME: “No, this is an LG. It’s much better than a Kitchenaide. Something’s just weird here. Let me look at it.”

And it turned out that the dishwasher had a “Delay” button connected to wi-fi, which had somehow been turned  to “on”, so that you can start your dishwasher later on, from your cell phone! She had no clue!  It was perpetually set to “delay.”

For Christ’s sake. Who fucking really needs that?! I can understand wanting your home security system connected to your cell phone. I can almost even understand wanting your thermostat connected to your cell phone. But your dishwasher?

My poor friend was going insane because her brand new, really expensive dishwasher wasn’t doing a darn thing and she was ready to have them come take the really nice brand new dishwasher away. (And she has her hands full enough, trying to look after a husband who has dementia.)

So. Anyway. My solution to my growing annoyance over the back end of the new web site was to simply make it one page. That’s all I really need anyway.  And, hopefully, on we go.

Nick Cave‘s Red Hand Files newsletter came out again this morning. I already read it, sort of by accident. I usually read it after I “get everything done.” It came earlier than it usually arrives, though, and I was just rapidly scrolling through my inbox on my phone, cleaning everything out of there (meaning “delete, delete, delete”) and then suddenly there it was, right in front of me, so I read it.

It seemed sort of sad to me. Of course, I always read everything from my own perspective, so I could be wildly wrong about that.  I will have to read it again, but it sort of seemed sad. God knows, I now have something else to ponder. And no answers will ever be forthcoming, so it will likely be one of those things I ponder until the cows come home.

Although, that said – around these parts, the cows actually do come home…

And raccoons, too! I’m thinking that the mommy racoon is probably one of the cubs that was born in the tree last spring. I have missed them so much!

Which in a roundabout and very convoluted way, brings me back to my thoughts about my niece (see yesterday’s post). And I feel like I can’t figure out what I should really do there.

My one sister and I are very close. She raised 2 girls, and she did an incredible job at it. (When she and her partner got together a million years ago, her partner had 2 very young daughters from a previous marriage and my sister helped raise them until they went off to college.)

And she loved those girls, and did everything she was supposed to do and all that. But they did make her crazy because they did stuff that all young people do. And I recall one time, a guy my sister knew was really, really wanting to have kids but his wife didn’t want them.  And my sister took the guy out to her truck, opened the side door and told him, “Here, dude. Slam your dick in this door a few times until the feeling goes away.”

She’s not a real fan of raising children anymore.

And she definitely has a really low tolerance for bullshit from young people now. And her opinion yesterday re: my concerns over my niece was drastically different from mine. And I know she knows what she’s talking about and so I think, what do I do here? Just let everyone live their own lives and look the other way?

Well, yes, let everyone live their own lives. But the other part – not even trying? Just walk away? Mind my own business?

It’s mostly my niece’s dad that I want to talk to my niece about. My brother. Because I saw and I knew a side of my brother that nobody else ever saw. Ever. I was really close to my younger brother for a long time, until he pushed me too far, too, and I finally had to walk away.  Like everybody else had.

But I know there was another path he had tried to go down; there was another kind of man he had tried to be. I remember that man he was so well, and I’m certain my niece has no clue that man ever existed. She just sees the man as he is now (indescribable alcoholic). I hate to think that’s all she’s destined to see.

My younger brother is on the left; my second husband is on the right. In Jackson, Ohio, Spring 1993.

Well, okay. Let me get going here. Spend some time on the other site and hopefully get something underway there, finally.  And spend a million hours pondering the Nick Cave thing. God knows, I can’t have a fulfilling life without stuffing my head full with a bunch of questions that have no answers whatsoever!

Have a great Thursday, wherever you are in the world! I leave you with this today. A song my brother and I used to play the fuck out of the summer after the album Centerfield by John Fogerty came out (1986). PLEASE please please play this one really loud, okay? In honor of the guy my brother used to be, such a long wonderful time ago. A summer I will never forget.

Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

“Rock And Roll Girls”

Sometimes I think life is just a rodeo
The trick is to ride and make it to the bell
But there is a place, sweet as you will ever know
In music and love and things you never tell
You see it in their face, secrets on the telephone
A time out of time, for you and no one else

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls

Yeah, yeah, yeah

If I had my way, I’d shuffle off to Buffalo
Sit by the lake and watch the world go by
Ladies in the sun, listenin’ to the radio
Like flowers on the sand, the rainbow in my mind

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls

Hey, let’s go all over the world
Rock and roll girls, rock and roll girls, yeah, yeah, yeah

c – 1985 John Fogerty