the soundtrack of contemporary life

There's a nail in the door
And there's glass on the lawn
Tacks on the floor
And the TV is on
And I always sleep with my guns when you're gone
There's a blade by the bed
And a phone in my hand
A dog on the floor
And some cash on the nightstand
When I'm all alone the dreaming stops
And I just can't stand
What should I do, I'm just a little baby
What if the lights go out
And maybe, and then the wind just starts to moan
Outside the door he followed me home
So goodnight moon, I want the sun
If it's not here soon
I might be done
No it won't be too soon 'til I say goodnight moon
There's a shark in the pool
And a witch in the tree
A crazy old neighbor and he's been watching me
And there's footsteps loud and strong coming down the hall
Something's under the bed
Now it's out in the hedge
There's a big black crow sitting on my window ledge
And I hear something scratching through the wall
What should I do I'm just a little baby
What if the lights go out
And maybe I just hate to be all alone, outside the door he followed me home
So goodnight moon
I want the sun
If it's not here soon
I might be done
No it won't be too soon 'til I say goodnight moon

Goodnight Moon, Shivaree

What separates the Wise Virgin de nos jours from the Foolish – a nail in the door and glass on the lawn, tacks on the floor and the TV on, sleeping with her guns and a blade by the bed, a phone in the hand, a dog on the floor, and some cash on the nightstand. In other words, preparedness for every eventuality. 'Twas ever thus.

(Which reminds me: must bring the Princess – and the Begum – up to scratch on their marksmanship, and their blade work. Unsuitable suitors are bound to begin circling soon, and I can't man all the gates by myself.)

life lessons that are priceless – publishing companies run by their marketing departments

Pogo, Walt Kelly

life of riley

One doesn’t want to sound flippant about unemployment. But there are circumstances – un certain âge, a long tax-paying career, an eternity of service (I almost wrote servitude) for the same company – which make it possible to face it with at least a measure of equanimity.

Certainly after 38 years in harness (or a staggering 51 if one counts the years of school, which I do), it feels extraordinarily liberating to suddenly be facing days of leisure such as have been the stuff of dreams for all that time.

On the other hand, it is with some trepidation that one realizes it is now time to take up those things – drawing and painting, designing and building a small rowing boat, planting a vegetable patch – which have so far been postponed for “when I grow up”.

We’ll see how I get along as a grown up. For the moment – and I hope I don’t live to regret saying this – the relief is immense.