175. Slosh, slosh, slosh

DAY ONE-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-FIVE

Native American Boy Carries Water Pails © Joseph Schwartz/CORBIS

Visit to the veterinarian yesterday for Lacey, and yes, I am posting late!  Posting late!  My apologies, my friend: I have no good excuses other than just being busy.   (Well, the vet trip was a bit traumatic, but the doctor isn’t fun for us either, I suppose.)

Here we are… and now I must be off to look at a van with Jeremy (guitarist for Pearl and the Beard), as we are in need of a van for tour, and he has found one to test drive.  Let us hope there is no dried vomit hidden in the back seat that we overlook… yikes: kids and those car trips.

Writing: Theme of bells and uke and bass all inter mixed with one other in a conversation about what to do and what to say.  No arguing, but discussing.  There is a difference between arguing and discussing!

It’s slurpy and sloshy and swishy like water in a bottle… that’s because it is: a water bottle for a drum.  Back and forth, back and forth.  Slosh, slosh, slosh.  I close my eyes and see a little boy with two big pails in his hands, struggling to keep them straight and then it starts to rain and rain.  The roads are muddy… everything, even his shoes are sloshing and sloshing: struggling to get home with enough water in the buckets by the time he gets home.

Hope you are staying cool… it’s a hot one out here!

Slosh, slosh, slosh


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