imagine there's a canjimer

Today I worked another day, settling back into my office after days away on business. Tonight we took our dog Ted for a walk. I liked the part when a half dozen toddlers came over to pet her.

My favorite toddler was between 1 and 18 months, who was torn because caution and sheer dog-happy-excitement.
He finally came and petted Teddy, who enjoyed the attention.

I found that everythingdulcimer.com has not only the notation for "This Old Man", but also for "The Skye Boat Song". I am content.

I want to visit the state park filled with palmetto plants.

Hot air balloons hover in the evening sky, while an equinox moon brightens the night sky.

I ponder, sometimes, the restorative value of the corn dog.

A reviewed musician from garageband wrote me an appreciative note. Having dispensed with all my can-jo instruments, I am going to scale up to a full scale canjimer. Three strings, and straight on until morning.

I bought a book on the English Defense, but I thought it was one thing, and it turned out to be another. I am disappointed with my memory of opening variations. It's like thinking oneself Brittanica, and finding oneself to be a grocery store astrology book.

When I was a teen, I loved the trance I could reach using a grocery store self-hypnosis book.

Being a teen is such a trance, too, and a meditation, and a prayer, and an epiphany. It sure can feel like a difficult ritual of initiation, though.

I met today with an old co-worker, and discussed people I have not thought about in 17 years.

A cardinal came to our feeder today. I wish I could sing like a mockingbird, and dance like a grackle.