Except I never did and always forgot what I wanted to read in the future.  In the last few days, combined with my superhero-like powers of going ot the library and getting a card, I have managed to check out and start reading the things that I had forgotten about–like Steve Martin’s autobiography Born Standing Up.  Maybe someday I will write about my sincere crush on this man.

But anyway, if you like reading, want to see what your firends are reading (and get ideas for things you might want to read next from their lists), goodreads is the way to go.  After feeling as if there has been a dearth of new and desirable reading material lately, I now feel that here is a functional way to be introduced to new work and possibly winnow the wheat from the chaff in the process.  Maybe I can stop reading the same books I enjoy over and over.  And over.

When Ben and I went to Mendocino for our belated honeymoon two years back, the music festival was also going on, and we decided to check it out.  And the stars aligned, because Ruthie Foster was playing.

What a show!  That woman can sing, but she can also connect with her audience in a way I haven’t seen with anyone else, and I left feeling uplifted simply by being with her in that show.  I hear her music now, and I am taken back to her presence in that tent–and hope someday to have the good fortune to be in her presence again.  I want her for a friend!

UPDATE:  OMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She’s got a new CD!!!!!!!  The Phenomenal Ruthie Foster

I wasn’t allowed to watch adult sitcoms–the themes were considered too adult-y for me, the child who was not allowed to use the word “butt” because it was a dirty word. Of course, anyone who has hear me speak in person knows that I have quite a potty mouth, and I believe to this day it stems from the pleasure of being able to say the word “butt”, now that I am older. And “fart”.

Anyway, where was I? Oh right, TV. I came across this article which suddenly brought all of these memories back. I distinctly remember, at the tender age of 4, being allowed to watch Dukes of Hazard but not allowed to watch Dallas, the show right after it; seeing Daisy in her skimpy little outfits helping the Duke boys flaunt the law time and again was OK, apparently. Dallas, though… Dallas was different. I remember being in my long, flannel, little girl nightgown watching DoH on a small 9″ black and white TV, which had to have the antenna (broken during a move) adjusted *justright*, as well as the vertical/horizontal dealies turned to the perfect spots. Since I don’t remember watching the show with them my parents must have been in another room. The program would end and my parents would call me to get ready for bed, but sometimes, they wouldn’t call right away, and in my little heart I would be like the Duke boys, wily and flaunting the law: I would turn the sound waaaaay down and watch old people wander around on the screen doing… stuff that was boring.

Let’s face it. Dallas was excruciatingly dull without the sound, but it was still delicious because I was watching something I shouldn’t have. My heart beat faster because it was forbidden.  Sure, I will never be able to talk lovingly the same way some of my friends did about TV in the 80s (Silver Spoons, Facts of Life, the Cosby Show, etc., etc.), but like that article I linked to earlier… there was alot of fun to be had trying to sneak TV. In the larger scheme of things, I also know that I read many more books than I would have and otherwise entertained myself by making things or otherwise being creative in what I chose to entertain myself with. I think about this now because we have our own kid, and while I keep saying that he will only be allowed to watch 30 minutes a day, I still find myself using the Food Network to get us through the last bit of the day. TV as sedative. But do I want him to have that same chance to read and be creative in entertaining himself? That thrill of getting away with something? You bet.

BUTT.

Anyhoo, my mind–the stainless steel colander that it is these days–is churning out some ideas I hope to write about with more frequency. And no, not just baby stuff, although it’s hard not to do that when the little guy is so damn cute! But I digress.

Right, where was I… Oh yeah, memory. It’s funny the way memory works sometimes. I can remember nearly word-perfect passages I have read that impressed me in some way, but I can’t tell you what I needed so badly at the grocery store that I went ahead and packed up the kid and the tote bag and whatnot. Like this post, I had a point I started of with and now I don’t remember what it was.

Right, so some of my ideas for what I want to talk about:

• Works In Progress (WIPs ): the crafts, quilts, and ideas I am working on right now
• Quilts and stuff
• Wanderings around
• Weighty issues
• Housey Stuff
• Parenty Stuff
• Foody stuff

Like I said–lots of ideas, I need to get them in print!