If I Only Had a Brain

I'm so glad tonight is the first women's choir practice of the season (6-7 at the museum, all singers or would be singers are welcome). These fall days have made me feel like singing. This morning it's been a bit of the blues, as I wait to hear back from all kinds of important editors about projects that are dear to me, and of course I'm sure that everything I've written for them just stinks. But as is my habit ( and that lovely singing nun's from The Sound of Music) if I remember my favorite things I don't feel so bad. Maybe it's just the weather (glorious yesterday, wet and blowing today) that has me a little bi-polar. Maybe it's living so close an actual pole as winter approaches. Anyway, yesterday, while I was waiting at my desk for those responses, my neighbor Fran emailed, "Want to walk?" I love how we can practically see in each others windows if we crane our necks around all the tree branches, and we email. It's like that old tin-can walkie-talkie. Anyway I typed back, "Yes, now?" And off we marched five miles in the sunshine down to the Mud Bay spring and back, talking about all kinds of things, but mostly how you just never know how life will turn out for your darling offspring,  but you just have to love them well, and to be very, very kind to fellow travelers on this parenthood trail. When I got back Jenny Lyn called and asked me to play golf, my first whole round of 9 holes. I looked at my computer. I could wait all day for an editor's or agent's email. I could check facebook a gazillion times. I could read a dozen on-line papers about if you-know-who will run or not. (Not.) I could clean my house. Or I could play golf in the fall sunshine with Jenny. It was really fun, squishing around the course, whacking grounders or an occasional high fly with my old softball team mate. She told me a great moose story about the bull Stan Jones shot, but didn't kill, and how it jumped up and bolted across the fairway sending golfers running. I got home in time to walk the Battery Point trail with Debra, fresh from her election victory, and then head to the Pioneer Bar for Chilkat Valley News editor Tom Morphet's  50th birthday and (a taste) of liver and onions. (His favorite, he treats us all on his birthday.) Actually, I opted for the onions, mashed potatoes and gravy. A swing band of old friends was playing and some folks were dancing and even singing along. On the way home I hit the CD player in my car, and on came a tune my daughter burned just for me. She thought it was funny. I love it.  It is from the Wizard of Oz, "If I Only Had a Brain." I've been humming it this morning as I tap out another re-write of December's Woman's Day column thinking I may lose my job. But here's a the power of a silly, happy tune. I just read my draft again.It's not so bad. Maybe it will be good enough after all. Maybe the choir will learn that scarecrow song. (Last season we learned Willie Nelson's "Bring Me Sunshine" because Suzie liked it. Now we all do.) There's nothing that quite banishes the blues like belting out, "With the thoughts I'd be thinkin' I could be another Lincoln if I only had a brain." Jenny Lyn just called, she asked if I can play golf again at 12:30 today.  Maybe.  Maybe my edits will be good enough to print. Maybe today I'll hit more flies than grounders. Maybe you will, too. One can hope.



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