I wish I could think of a better idea for this post.
The last thing I was surprised by isn’t my story to tell.
I don’t feel like I should give a review on the three books
I’m reading since I haven’t finished any of them yet.
My story about the time I slept on the Couch of Death has been posted for years. The last time was almost a repeat of the same story, and I didn’t know if a repost is against Writer’s Workshop rules.
I have not posted a picture to Instagram this month. The one
photo I posted in April was an old one, and I have not tackled any spring cleaning.
Like I said, I wish I could think of a better idea for this
Maybe next time.
My Instagram account has shown me I’m no photographer, but I thought I’d share the stories behind four of the pictures on my page.
Daddy and I were on the road to somewhere the other day.
We were listening to an oldies station when I made a remark about how, on the whole, today’s music doesn’t hold a candle to the songs on the radio when Daddy was younger.
I believe a day spent listening to Delilah on a recent trip to the beach led to his defense of modern music.
“It ain’t all bad,” Daddy said. “Every song wasn’t good back then, either. You’re just listening to the All Stars.”
I didn’t think about the exchange again until yesterday, and the thought had nothing to do with music. (more…)