“Coffee smells like magic and fairy tales.”
I’m sitting here looking out the window at a pretty day. The sun is bright, glaringly bright, at least for the meantime as clouds are waiting, biding their time. The wind is blowing even the biggest branches. Yellow and brown pine needles cover the already fallen leaves. Even the driveway has disappeared. Outside, the dogs crouched when the wind was the strongest. Now it is their nap time.
Last night I trapped two more mice. They are small. I don’t know how long they were in the mouse hotel, but they ate the bait. I let them go. I’m thinking under that bed in Jack’s room is like a clown car only with mice instead of clowns.
My dance card is empty. I already had my uke practice and lesson so now I’ll stay home to rest my leg. It is so much better, finally. I wish I knew what I did to injure it so I won’t do it again. There are a few oddities in my life. I love red licorice, Twizzlers, but not black licorice except for Good and Plenty, black jelly beans and black Chuckles. I do love the taste of anise, especially Italian anise cookies. My uncle used to make the best anise cookies. He always saved some for me at Christmas. I’m not one into schmaltz, but I do love Hallmark movies. I like that each movie ends happily. I’m a sucker for Christmas movies. I love music, but there are singers I’ve never liked, no complaints about my list please. I have never liked Elvis, Neil Diamond or Barry Manilow. Others are on the list but none are as prominent.
I am a purist when it comes to coffee. I drink coffee from all over the world. I love the different nuances. Ghana was a glaring exception. It is a tea drinking country, a former British colony. I had to drink instant coffee with canned milk, an abomination, but I had no choice. After a while my taste buds went numb, and I didn’t notice. When I went back, it was still the same. Everywhere I stayed served instant coffee in little packets with packets of sugar and canned Carnation milk. It is still an abomination but being without coffee is worse. My taste buds knew what to do. They went numb.
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November 6, 2025 at 5:37 pm
Well I do like Elvis and Neil in small doses. I take both coffee and tea black, no sugar. Soon, I am going to have to deal with a wasps nest in my roof now that cooler weather is here. We are starting to rehearse with guitar and uke, as mother in law (aged 97 and bedfast), is looking forward to a performance of “Danny Boy” and “Carrickfergus” at Christmas.
November 6, 2025 at 8:51 pm
Peter,
I don’t know why I never liked them. One day I was walking on. Newbury Street in Boston when Barry Manilow with very tall, muscular body guards on each side of him walked by me. He is short. That was my only reaction.
We will start practicing uke Christmas music the week of Thanksgiving. The place where we have a concert that week requested it. I’ll have to look up Carrickfergus.
November 7, 2025 at 3:36 am
Haha, I always thought Barry Manilow must be tall. I would recommend Brian Kennedy’s rendering of Carrickfergus. though there are others who have recorded it. I have “A Little Book Of Irish Folk Songs” and print outs from the internet.
November 7, 2025 at 4:10 am
He did look silly walking between the two big guys. I will find a video of Brain Kennedy singing Carrickfergus.
November 7, 2025 at 4:29 am
Brian has had cancer and other health problems. He looks rough on recent videos, such a shame.
November 7, 2025 at 12:56 pm
It is a shame. Cancer is such a scourge. I’m sad for both of you.
That song is so beautiful and so sad, poignant. Irish music tends to be poignant. It is part of being Irish. The pathos even extends to Irish Americans