Measured Extravagance

15 May 2004 - 11:33 a.m.

Currently kicking back with a mug of tea, a magic brownie (thanks, J!), and Taj Mahal singing "Freedom Ride" (which I felt the urge to play after listening to David Massengill's "Don Quixote's Lullaby (For Abbie Hoffman)": "When I went off the change the world / I never thought the world would dare change me") before shedding my madrigal-wear (my dressiest blouse and my one remaining long black skirt) for something more conducive to playing with ink. Or pentameter. Or snoozing. Or simply enjoying the latest "Wait! Wait!":

Peter Sagal: "Here is your first quote:"
Carl Kasel: "'You're doing a superb job.'" [audience laughs]
Karen from Colorado: "Are you kidding?" [audience laughs harder]

[Sagal later quoted Jon Stewart: "Does the president know what 'superb' means?"]

I think Elizabeth Bear's guilt gorilla has a cousin here. A grumpy gorilla-cousin, thwacking me with my metal triangle and litter-box scooper and deck-rail planters and - oh, stuff it, I have been busy.

[Roy Underhill: "Sometimes a dovetail is just a dovetail. . ."]

Yesterday: cat to/from the vet for her annual exam; a half-hour with an Inkberry exercise; four hours at the day job; twelve invoices at the other day job; a benefit for the local humane association (bid on Emmylou Harris's stage boots); dinner with the in-laws; elation and frustration over the posters intended for my church's wayside pulpit (they arrived much sooner than expected and looked terrific - until the ink started smearing off in spots. Gah!).

Today: guild meeting (elected treasurer; picked up five carpenter pencils and a fair amount of sign-production advice); rock band rehearsal (guest-singing one song and adding back-up to another); shopping (a roll of laminate for the posters; a sweater for an upcoming croquet tournament; two wedding presents and a shower giftie); madrigal dinner, at which we sang

Pipe Shepherds Pipe
Early Before the Day Doth Spring
As Fair as Morn
How Merrily We Live
Your Shining Eyes
While joyful springtime lasteth
The Nightingale
Though Philomela lost her love (encore)

(Hm. Maybe that should be my next free-writing exercise. "Take the titles of three madrigals and. . .")

On deck: at least one poetry packet; four paid writing/editing assignments (plus one freebie); a set of policy recommendations; two weddings, a shower, and an ordination; four calligraphy commissions; both pets to the groomers; continuing the search for a skirt or dress for the aforementioned croquet tournament. . .) - -

Oh, the heck with it, at least until tomorrow. Bath, book, and bed for me.

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