Archive for April, 2009

I sing in my robe sometimes. Today is the cubs opener, and it is freezing cold, and our heater has gone on the fritz and we are not fixing it.

Lately I have been playing my piano/ wedding ring again. Do you know this story? I am not a wearer of diamonds, and so, instead I have a piano. That’s not much of a story I know but its the best I can do right now. So I wrote this little waltz based upon our recent purchase of two rain barrels. We have some flooding here in the suburbs, and mainly because there shouldn’t be houses here, I think really the land’s original intent was to be a swampy water run off area. But here we are. We also have built, out of discarded lumber and chicken wire, a very rickety raised bed for vegetables. The reason for the chicken wire is to stop rabbits. Rabbits are out of control because the crows are all dead (adult crows are natural enemies of baby rabbits). The crows died because of complications related to West Nile virus. The moral of the story is: please avoid standing pools of water that attract mosquitos if you would like to avoid the ugliness of chicken wire in your garden. Which brings me back to the rain barrels. I now have more than 100 gallons of non potable water outside. If you would like some free water, please stop by with containers. This water is good for stuff, for instance, you can water plants with it, and also, instead of flushing the toilet, you can pour 3 gallons into the toilet and voila! bye bye unpleasant waste matter. Also you can rinse your hands off with it.

Back to the waltz. I posted this weird accapella, not expecting too many mixes and the spirit of light (aka Denis), a French musician, made this beautiful, jazzy piece with it.

download Denis’ mix of Reclamation here

I am disengaged
in the most delightful way
I hear music
I revel in its beauty as it seals off my mind
I’m disappearing from the lawn-scape one blade at a time
I’m collecting rain
drop by drop I will reclaim
the sky’s magic
I’ll weave a little chair out of the clouds
and float around your window without a sound
You expose my heart
you have it down to an art
I scream danger
Why am I always the one left inside the yard
Mr Young you were wrong
it’s really very hard

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