Thank God for the newspaper. This morning I learned a ram is a male sheep, and that tidbit of knowledge has cleared up the confusion I’ve lived with for years. Is that ewe or isn’t it ewe? I suppose you’re wondering why a ram in the paper, especially the front page. It seems he escaped from the Islamic Center where he was scheduled to be sacrificed for Eid al-Adha on October 26th. The ram, on the run for two weeks, has been seen in several places but has evaded capture. Be on the lookout for a ram with brown fleece and a black face. Go ram!!
Don’t forget to turn your clocks back tonight, nothing worse than being an hour early. If you are like my friend’s aunt, you’ll stay up until 2 a.m., the official time to turn them back.
The day is dismal: cloudy, damp and cold. Tonight will be in the low 40’s but the rest of the week will have nights in the 30’s. That sounds to me as if fall is hurrying away with winter at its heels. The dog doesn’t linger outside much at night any more.
I survived yesterday.
My mother had singers and songs she loved, and she played them on the hi-fi while she was doing housework. The songs stuck in my head, and I, without realizing it, learned all the words. In a way, I carry on her music. My sister, when her kids were growing up, played the music she loves and the same thing which happened to me happened to her kids. They learned her music. Her kids are fans of Creedence, Dylan and CSN&Y among others. In a way, they carry on her music, and mine as well. I wonder, though, what will happen to my mother’s music. My nephews and niece don’t know Frank Sinatra, Judy Garland, Jo Stafford or Johnny Mathis, and I don’t hear those singers played much on the radio. The oldies stations I listen to play music from the 60’s on up through the 80’s. My mother’s music is fading, disappearing from the airwaves, but it stays in my head. Johnny Mathis and The Twelfth of Never still gets me every time.
