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listen to the rhythm of the falling …

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – there are days when being a self-employed pauper are so worth it. Like today. It poured all day, the classic glowering skies and endless sleet of the desolate Bronte moors, only this is downtown Toronto. Not a day for tramping around.

So luckily, I had an editing session with a student and a new afternoon class, both right here. People came here through the inclemency. We had a grand new class, inspiring and stimulating, and then they went back out into the wet. I had an errand or two which I squeezed into a brief dry moment, and then back inside to hide. Now it’s 11 p.m., pouring still. There’s nothing wrong with rain, says my daughter. She loves all weather. So do I – but sometimes, just through my kitchen window.
Tonight, I confess, I watched “Glee.” As you know if you follow this blog, my TV viewing is limited – Jon Stewart, some movies and an occasional masterpiece on PBS. But Chris in Vancouver loves “Glee,” so I watched. And found myself weeping, twice. It was an episode about belief in God, yes and no, which of course was just an excuse to have those lovely kids sing fantastic songs. They did a version of the Beatles’ “I want to hold your hand” which was breathtaking – not the silly old-fashioned version, of a boy to a girl, but this time, of a boy to his dying father. And similarly, an Aretha Franklin song sung in a gospel church. What fun.
I don’t know if I’ll watch it again. Usually those shows are so formulaic. Even this time, I was embarrassed to allow my buttons to be so easily pushed. But … that’s what those writers and directors make the big bucks for. They’re good at it. Definitely worth watching, once in a while.
In the middle, my son called. “Mum, what’s the name of the boat that goes over the river Styx?” I have no idea, I said. In the old days, you’d say, Ask your dad. Now you say, Google it. I just did, but this time, maybe Google doesn’t know either. Do any of you? Perhaps the boat does not have a name. Why did he want to know? I won’t ask.
Bed will be especially cosy tonight.



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About Beth

I began keeping a journal at the age of nine. Nearly fifty years later, I started this online journal, sharing reflections, reviews, updates, and the occasional secret.

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