oh no! what am I listening to?

my music-management system
declares the song that is playing
as unclassifiable

Can't find the right book.

For the umpteenth time I have finished reading something and am looking for the next one. There are so many books and so little time. This is an important decision. Even after a bit of a purge the pile on my bedside table remains large. I am having trouble settling. The pile contains:
'When I Stop Talking, You'll Know I'm Dead' by Jerry Weintraub
(This is from the library. I read a favorable review somewhere.)
'Ecology Of A Cracker Childhood' by Janisse Ray
(Also from the library and definitely here because of a favorable review from a blog found from a blog and if memory serves, the recommender is a proponent of slow-reading.)
'Musicophilia' by Oliver Sacks
(Music is medicine for me. I know this will be a delight and keep renewing it but haven't felt up to non-fiction.)
'Pleasures: Women Write Erotica' edited by Lonnie Barbach, Ph.D.
(Library. The pieces I’ve read have been rather disappointing so far.)
'The Collected Poems of Audre Lorde'
(I needed her strength. Library.)
'Another Roadside Attraction' by Tom Robbins
(Revisiting this book might be interesting.)
The Audubon Society's 'Field Guide to North American Insects & Spiders'
(There was an unusual spider crawling on my wall and bed the other night.)
Charles Dickens' 'Pickwick Papers'
(Been meaning to get around to this book.)
'Troubling A Star' by Madeleine L'Engle
(Found in the library’s sale books. Gotta love Madeleine.)
Marge Piercy's 'Fly Away Home'
(The first few pages were oh so good but moderately distressing.
I'm not sure now is the time for this.)
'Slow Hand: Women Writing Erotica' edited by Michele Slung
(For years a regular presence on my bedside table.)
Mark Sebastian Jordan's 'The Book of Jobs'
(A new book by a new friend.)
'The Comedians' by Graham Greene
(I loved 'Travels With My Aunt.')
'How I Became Hettie Jones' by Hettie Jones
(This arrived here because of a memoir kick that I was on a few months ago.)
Irvine Welsh's 'Filth'
(I loved 'Ecstasy.’ Know that I need to read more of him.)
There are also two dictionaries - Webster's New World (paperback so it can be easily tucked under the pillow) and Webster's Ninth New Collegiate (because sometimes paperback is not enough).

Aw, cut it out!

Just what is it that damned machine is suggesting anyway?

A note that I did not send.

Things here are fine. It is a beautiful summer, though definitely on the wane. It is again the time of year that the leaves on the soybean plants turn in patterns with the wind and the milky way is spectacularly visible. The weather broke long enough for me to bake all day on Saturday but it is getting hot again. One of the feral cats was hit by a vehicle the other day. You know, I never wake up thinking that I'll be digging a grave. She was in the very middle of the road up by the barn (near the top of the hill) and I could have been hit by a speeding milk truck while prying her body off the pavement and trying not to look at the eyeball that had popped out of her skull.

Good Day

Dinner tonight from the farmer's market - left the chick peas cooking on the stove when I went. Great success! My small budget (firmly adhered to) provided a large head of cabbage (picked that morning by the man who used to be my doctor), three zucchini, four green peppers and beautiful shiny rocks. They were 20 for $1! I asked the girl with braces and freckles and summer skin if the sign was right. It just seemed too good to be true. Yes, the sign was right. There was mild confusion when she couldn't find a bag for me to put them in and I didn't have reliable pockets. GrandmaMrsdoctor found one for me and suggested that I carry the stones into the sun to see them best. Of course! No hurry but the chick peas. I took her advice and took my time. In between the bread duties today I played with the stones. Eventually I found a shiny little bowl for them and have put them within arm’s reach of the porch swing.

I have been fussing around my house all day and have finally put my feet up. Baking was my main focus. Though I got a couple of other little things done like charging the drill for the upcoming construction and finally unloading that big box of cat litter, I was in my kitchen most of the day. It got pretty complicated there in the early afternoon with three batches in various states, two of them in the oven and that music. I got caught up in a strange song and having it on repeat for godonlyknows how long might have been the reason that the second batch of apple wheat was left rising for too long and is a little off (still quite yummy and good enough for me). Just a few minutes ago the last batch came out of the oven. All told I baked six loaves of bread (four apple & wheat, two whole wheat & oat) and sixteen of the most beautiful kaiser rolls that I've ever seen. I’ve spent at least one hour this day kneading bread.

Now, I sit.

Wonder what tomorrow will bring.

The cat, now 17, has started to act funny. She has outlasted a large number of other animals and perhaps is lonely. Most likely she is smug. The house and the person are finally hers and hers alone. Her latest odd behavior is to smell my lips between 5 and 5:30 in the morning. This I could live with as I learned to live with her brother nursing on my ear in the middle of the night – pull the bed covers over the ears – but she is a dangerous one. She bites. Never enough to draw blood but who can say what will happen. Besides, it hurts like the dickens. So for a large number of recent mornings, I have had my day abruptly begun by this behavior. Yesterday I fooled her though. Being well rested, I arose shortly before 5. I vacuumed, changed the sheets and tidied my kitchen instead of my usual habit of reading with an available lap and scritchy fingers. This morning she waited until 6, until my consciousness was stirring. Springing onto the bed, she bit my bottom before springing out again and scampering out of the room. Good one.