Sunshine on today's snow and a walk is in the works for I need to work on my wintered-up leviathan proportions and my cabin fever. I keep looking at Pratt & Lambert's Velvet Red for the downstair's bathroom and the intense Va Va Voom for the laundry room. For lunch, I had the final half of my Arctic Zero Vanilla Maple and with a shake of kosher salt, disgruntled reviewers be damned, it makes a fine ice cream substitute.
I can almost taste Spring on the way, or maybe I want it so (hot tub! swimming pool! rooftop reading! firepit dinners! and a Disney cast of birds, deer, flora and fauna here now and thawed into view.) Plus, I miss summer-arms and little vintage dresses with the boots I never put away but sometimes choose sandals over. And music festivals--a new thing I do and can't get enough of.
Josh Ritter will be at Southgate this week and I am working on talking M into. (M is the reason for today's song post as he began to tell me about a dream he had last night and immediately the song below began playing in my head.) M began singing John Prine's song but for me, Josh Ritter's song will always follow "I had a dream last night..." But because I do love JP so, too and saw him not long ago in concert, I will post two of my Prine favorites.
Hit post too soon and wanted to mention how here at 37 degrees, we are actually thinking that a walk in this warm weather would be nice. The plan for tonight is to watch The Graduate, which, embarassing confession: I have never before seen. There are others. Such as: for Thanksgiving this year, my good friend C, wanted to come to the house as it had the look of a house that was a big gathering place "like in The Big Chill". Confession: I have never seen The Big Chill. Or had not until M decided to remedy that.
There are more, despite the fact that I worked in a video store and hung out all night with my then-roomate and watched dark, psychological drama after d. p. d. or foreign films (which were not necessarily not dpds). Somehow I missed huge swaths of classics so that the other night when TCM played An American in Paris, I was riveted. I must walk out into this afternoon before it further darkens. Adieu.