| | So, today has been lovely. Exactly the way a Saturday in October ought to be: the winds are brisk and chilly and keen through the trees, and though there was never rain stormclouds rolled over the sky half the morning. I woke late but not too late, and my Abigail Washburn album had come, which is a wonderful thing to wake up to, let me tell you. I dressed and took it outside to listen to -- lay in a pile of sweetly damp leaves the siblings had raked up several days ago and forgotten, and I watched the clouds roiling over the orange-green tree above me and the stark reaching one with tufts of gold still clinging here and there to its branches. I like for my first experience with an album to have a taste to it. And Song of the Travelling Daughter is exquisitely right for autumn; all raw gorgeous keening Appalachian-bluegrass-Chinese-Depression music with banjos and also a cello and really I have not heard something this brilliant in a long time. Dad and I saw Abigail Washburn and her band the Sparrow Quartet at Grey Fox and we were absolutely stunned. Seriously, go hunt her out sometime, for the glorious marriage of traditional American and Chinese music if nothing else. (Or if you watch Firefly. Ah, yes.)
I bicycled to the library: rather, I bicycled in spurts and got off to walk here and there because the bicycle seat is still angled all wrong and will not be corrected by even copious amounts of duct tape, but other than that it was a lovely ride, and I had on my cloak, and it blew in the wind very romantically (except when it was busy getting caught in my bicycle mechanisms, which was irritating and also very not-romantic). And I found some new books for once, including Robin McKinley's newest, Dragonhaven, which I am a bit over halfway finished with and currently loving. (I was pleasantly shocked that the library had it, because they have a tendency to not be so much on the ball, as it were, especially in regards to things I actually want to read. Your Danielle Steeles and James Patersons they purchase in abundance.)
Treasure Lake Church had some sort of hayride-and-food event, which we went to, as it saved us the bother of getting dinner for ourselves (well, no, we're not really that lazy), and bits of it were awkward (why can I not hold a hot dog without getting catsup all down my arm? -- why do people want to talk? All right, that was being facetious, but carrying on a conversation with a stranger is very difficult to do without showing effort, and there are always awkward pauses when we run out of things to talk about and have to make some excuse about going to procure another hot dog or whatnot), and bits were wonderful: I found a tree that had apparently sprouted two trunks, and one had been sawed off, and it made the loveliest shelf, so I sat and read while the sun set over the people and the little glowing fires and the air was crisp and sharp and cold and full of wind and leaves.
This is the part where I go to bed.
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| | Posted 10/20/2007 11:58 PM - 28 Views - 4 eProps - 2 comments
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