Rainy Saturdays, Nudity, and Ukeleles

The best way to deal with an early Saturday morning thunderstorm is to pour a second cup of coffee, add a generous helping of Irish cream, and let the lightning and thunder rage on outside.

I need to take a shower, and I should be doing chores, but the rain is telling me to wait.

One should always listen to the rain. Unless, that is, the rain is telling you to strip naked and run through the neighborhood playing a ukulele. I won’t make THAT mistake again.

Albert Arthur Allen’s “Nude with Ukelele”

Albert Arthur Allen’s “Nude with Ukelele”

Peace, people!

I’m too Fat for my Ukulele (and Other Stories from the Road)

No bull! 

At the Houston rodeo. I’d have won my event, except that my bull wasn’t real.
 
Apart from the skirt pulled up way too high–Erkel style under my boobs and the dainty sandals on my pretty feet I look like a real life bull rider. Right? Right? Why do I hear crickets?

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I own a ukulele now, purchased from a shop in Amarillo. So far, I know two notes, but the ukulele is small and my body is bulky. Together we look odd, like the instrument is being absorbed into my flesh. Like Jabba the Hut swallowing a little invertebrate whole. Gulp.

I’m not going to let appearances prevent me from learning to play the ukulele. Nossirree. But I might need to purchase a muumu just to complete the whole vibe.

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 Each day, the tattoo my nephew Russell bestowed upon me becomes prettier. I’ve tried to explain my feelings about it which go above and beyond anything I expected. 

Having never been a particularly attractive woman, it pleases me more than I can say to have such a beautiful piece of art adorning my body. It makes me feel happy. And just a little bit special. I only regret not having it done sooner. 

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One friend asked what I’d listened to during my adventure. If I were to try and list my choices in some kind of order, it might look like this:

Howard Stern on Sirius 100

  

John Fugelsang on INSIGHT Sirius/XM 121

 
Diane Rehm on NPR

 
An audiobook by John Scalzi
 
 
A V.I. Warshawski novel by Sara Paretsky
      
I also listened and sang along to the Classic Vinyl station, as well as the 60’s and 70’s stations on Sirius/XM. The comedy stations helped me cover many miles as well.

And then there were great distances without any sound other than that of my tires on pavement. Driving through the cities of Nashville, Kansas City, Dallas, and Houston required a great deal of concentration, and radio silence was a balm for my soul and a boost for my driving skills.

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Being home feels good. Today is a day for tackling mountains of laundry and snuggling cats, and for reading blog posts. I’ve been a terrible follower these past two weeks, clicking through blogs with nary a comment.

Thanks for all your positive vibes and support during my journey. Here’s a little Simon and Garfunkel to tie things up.

Peace, people!

http://youtu.be/7z9wd9bS1FM