Thursday, April 7, 2011

In a fog

Such fog this morning! I would bake sourdough bread except for I have had to put bread baking on hiatus because whenever I bake it I cannot stop eating it.

Well, sourdough or no sourdough at least it is feeling  like spring. Padding outside to get the papers I could hear mourning doves and feel spring in the air.

Wow, that link. Do not miss it! Except be warned, I just poured five minutes into it. Here I was with all these chores slated for this morning and there I am, mouth open, holding my cup of chai tea, just gazing and listening.

I have loved that song since I was a teenager! That melody. And that beautiful piano. That is the English pianist Gerald Moore you are hearing. A god among men. See? I sometimes do praise other pianists besides Pennario.

Here is a thought (I know, I have them rarely):

Last night I was looking back in my Web log, in pursuit of I forget what, and I happened on what I wrote on Easter last year. Easter last year was a little over a year ago. It was April 4.

It was 80 degrees!

My nieces were over baking on Holy Saturday and we had to open the windows.

I do not mean to feed into anyone's discontent.

I am just saying.

This is the time of year when everyone in Buffalo turns into a sage and makes predictions about the summer. Many, many people are saying we will have none this year.

It cannot be so. It must happen.

Schubert said it!

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