“Is he still mad at you for crashing his Thanksgiving party?”

love listening

I’m having a productive day.  My weekly chores are nearly complete, pending a laundry load in the dryer.  I finished reading, Becoming, by Michelle Obama recently.  Reading it was like spending time getting to know her.  She was candid, personable, and unapologetically human.  I love her and am grateful to know her on her terms.  It’s an ideal manner of connection, in my belief.  She’s instilled a deep sense of hope within me.

I’m presently devoted to four weekly podcasts.  (Gettin’ Grown, The Friend Zone, The Read, and Jade and XD.)   The people who create them are part of a tightknit group of friends, which adds to my listening pleasure.  I was listening to Jade and X.D.’s latest episode (with my headphones) while working a jigsaw puzzle last night.  At one point, I burst out laughing, startling Amelia Bedelia, Talulah, and M.  I noticed their reaction in my peripheral vision and turned to see their alarm.

Amelia Bedelia quickly exited the room, fleeing to her safe place atop her climbing tower.  Talulah barked once as if scolding me for making her jump.  M, who was playing a video game, played it off and asked me what was so funny.  All I could do was laugh even harder.  I paused the podcast and got up to attend to Amelia Bedelia, but couldn’t stop giggling.  I’m typically fairly silent, but it occurred to me these favorite podcasts are practically the only exception.  (I usually listen when alone.)

jumping for joy

While the podcasts cover different topics, they’re all often hilarious.  M decided he’s going to play them while he runs.  Jade recommended the show, The Good Place, which is currently on Netflix.  I binged two seasons of it last weekend, and highly recommend it.  I rarely watch anything other than nature documentaries, but I love this show.  It’s hysterically funny but also provokes a lot of thought.  Kristen Bell shines brightly in the lead role.  I can’t wait to view season 3.

I started a new novel, titled, 1Q84, by Haruki Murakami.  The story enthralls me so much; I don’t want to do anything but continue reading.  It’s my first book by this author, but won’t be my last.  It includes topics that usually trigger me, but it’s not the case here.  (I’ll ponder why when I finish as this intrigues me.)  In the back of my mind, I’m quietly and excitedly anticipating the upcoming Fleetwood Mac concert.  Each time I think of it, I smile.

Rhiannon still plays in my mind like a lullaby before I go to sleep.  I have three versions in my heart, now:  the original release, the more recent adaptation, and the live video footage from the ’70s — only the original functions as a lullaby.  The live versions are far edgier and provoke mental images of Stevie Nicks in her element.  It still amazes me how this song has been part of the soundtrack of my life since I was a small child, growing in significance as I mature.

I hope those who celebrate had delicious holiday meals.  I’m off to continue reading.  ✌🏽💜