While blow-drying my nails after painting them a pale lavender for Easter, I felt compelled to blog about my red blotchy skin while listening to Garrison Keillor while they dried. Side-tracked, however, I am by the lovely voice reading a century old diary entries from a woman in Paris while she was on her trip with her family: Papa, Rachael, and Gertrude. Every now and then, she breaks into song, and sings the diary entries to a tinkling piano. It's beautiful, and with the background voices and car noises you feel as if you are really there in her diary entry, I can only think that this is the most perfect way to read a diary entry from a woman from 1900. And they have nothing to do with anything in particular, from visits to the Leuve, a rain storm, Papa's health, her own coff (is that how you spell 'coff'? like to choke or coff?), bomb explosions outside on the street from anarchists, waiting for dress makers, and the like. Then she sings about arriving at the train station, crossing a channel, and dealing with luggage and customs. Isn't this a funny thing to chose to entertain us with. Mrs. James Jayhill's Diary. That is whose diary it was.
Sorry - anytime there is a tinkling piano I just get distracted! And this show is a repeat, but that's ok because Garrison has on a band who I remember loving, and now the lead female from it is singing When the Red Red Robbin Comes Bop Bop Boppin Along. Before she sang a funny song about celebrating Spring in Minnesota by eating outdoors just because it's in the low 40s, and the whole song is sung to the In the Jungle tune. Sally Dorsky. That's who the singer is. Very pretty voice.
Ok, we're off to see Blades of Glory for our Easter weekend. We did not go out of town. David is "picking me up" for out "date" by coming to the bedroom door to ask me while I'm still sitting here.
Ok, now he has gone to the door (didn't hear him do this, but Gerdy is barking) and is ringing the bell. Now he's calling on my new cordless fax machine to pretend he is a nervous and polight boyfriend waiting at my door. Guess I getter go!
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