Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Nostalgia


I've been chasing this version for years.  I first heard this song in the 70's,  when my parents bought the original album.  It's haunted me ever since.  

I've heard Leonard Cohen sing it,  I've heard many others,  but this is the version that I heard first,  and like an imprinted duckling,  this is the one that holds true for me.   And then we moved and the record was misplaced and I hadn't heard it in years (decades!)  I've done the occasional search for it,  but never found it again. 

And then today, not even looking for it,  I finally found a perfect version of it on you tube.  Happy day! So I'm sharing my serendipitous find with you... 

Thursday, July 13, 2017

I came across this on a forum I like,  and I've definitely been there - so I am sharing it with you,  because knowing that other people have been there too, makes the journey far easier! 
Relax
Ellen Bass
Bad things are going to happen.
Your tomatoes will grow a fungus
and your cat will get run over.
Someone will leave the bag with the ice cream
melting in the car and throw
your blue cashmere sweater in the drier.
Your husband will sleep
with a girl your daughter’s age, her breasts spilling
out of her blouse. Or your wife
will remember she’s a lesbian
and leave you for the woman next door. The other cat—
the one you never really liked—will contract a disease
that requires you to pry open its feverish mouth
every four hours for a month.
Your parents will die.
No matter how many vitamins you take,
how much Pilates, you’ll lose your keys,
your hair and your memory. If your daughter
doesn’t plug her heart
into every live socket she passes,
you’ll come home to find your son has emptied
your refrigerator, dragged it to the curb,
and called the used appliance store for pick up—drug money.
There’s a Buddhist story of a woman chased by a tiger.
When she comes to a cliff, she sees a sturdy vine
and climbs halfway down. But there’s also a tiger below.
And two mice—one white, one black—scurry out
and begin to gnaw at the vine. At this point
she notices a wild strawberry growing from the crevice.
She looks up, down, at the mice.
Then she eats the strawberry.
So here’s the view, the breeze, the pulse
in your throat. Your wallet will be stolen, you’ll get fat,
slip on the bathroom tiles of a foreign hotel
and crack your hip. You’ll be lonely.
Oh taste how sweet and tart
the red juice is, how the tiny seeds
crunch between your teeth.