Up & Out

Skully called (or maybe emailed) me earlier this week to declare that we WOULD get back to walking even though we'd have to mall walk because it's too darned cold and icy to walk outside so we did.  I met her at 8:30 over at East Town Mall (I hate malls) to trudge around the edges inside for a little over half an hour (our endurance will increase, don't you worry).  Then I drove home and picked Durwood up for some grocery shopping (I got ingredients for another batch of Green Chicken Soup for work lunches--yum!) and then dropped him off to pick up his fixed van which happily only needed a new battery. (Whew, dodged a bullet on that one.)  It's deadly cold out there today, breezy too, so I guess it was a good idea that Skully and I walked indoors but I'd really rather be outside.  Mom used to say that TW always wanted to be outside when he was a kid.  I know how he felt.

Now we're home on our respective computers, he's paying bills and I figured out how to make iTunes give me back my apps (it took them away when I downloaded the evil Windows 8), now I'm downloading some Desert Island Discs podcasts to my iPod Touch while I blog.  I love the conversations and snippets of music.  So sedate, so British, and sometimes educational.  Also listening to it has reawakened my classical music ear.  I forget how much I like music without singing.

February 1--Roman, Marble Portrait Bust of a Woman.  Gina swirled her shawl around her shoulders and tugged it up to cover her hair.  It was cool in the hills at night and the mist rising from the bay made everything feel damp.  She hurried along the road, the fragrance of the lemon trees in bloom like a melody in the night.  Above the mist the start blazed like pinpricks in velvet and the barest sliver of a moon hung in the sky.  Long before she saw the villa she hear Vittorio singing while he made their supper.  As she neared the top of their lane his singing stopped, a shot rang out, and she began to run.

Okay, time to sign off so I'm not still writing this post when it's time to write tomorrows.  Sayonara.
--Barbara