Greetings all. For Day 12, Blogging 101, I have several inspirations.
PLEASE NOTE: My site is under reconstruction. I want to get this in before we work on it again.
Blogging 101 – Day 12
Here are a few people who prompted memories with their different takes on the topic of the day.
She turned the tables. She pulled the wool over her husband’s eyes – to give him a treat.
I pulled the wool over my wife’s eyes once. To give her a treat.
Driving to school, listening to radio. We walked to school – four and a half miles there, felt like five on the way back. Or was that the other way around?
This is one of her sights. She wrote about her husband the drummer. I have a son drummer. Know what she means.
retired law enforcement —
He was his own twin. A bit of a joker, and nicely done. Reminded me of a younger self.
I hope I have these all straight. Collectively, the gave me a lot of prods for a memoir.
One problem I had: Some people didn’t actually identify themselves on their sites. Not that I could find.
And, as others have mentioned: It’s a pain in the nether regions to have to scroll and scroll and scroll and scroll…
So, here is my column for the day:
I fooled her and startled the star.
We were on holiday. We reached Ottawa. Loved the place. Favourite spot: the grand, unbelievable library, inside and out, of the Parliament buildings.
I spotted a poster for one of our all-time favourite performers. I snuck away and got two tickets. I secretly arranged for our travel partners to look after the kids. The were very young then. I got Ann ready. She bugged me about where I was taking her. I was stolid. I kept the secret.
At the theatre, I actually covered her eyes and walked her through a very curious, amazed and amused crowd. I signalled the hush-hush procedure so no one would speak the name.
I even got her into our seats – right up front.
She was aching, visibly, to know who the heck it was I’d taken her to see.
Finally the house lights went down.
And the star band leader, husband of the singing star, ambled onto the stage.
“Oh,” my wife squealed. “It’s John Dankworth.”
John stopped dead. He glanced out, toward us, it seemed. Then he carried on, picked up his saxophone, and began to play. What a thrill.
Then he played the real star onto the stage: Cleo Laine. CLEO LAINE. And JOHNNY DANKWORTH.
Only the two most brilliant artists in the world.
Needless to say, I was in Ann’s very good books for the rest of that amazing trip.
See you at http://hwbrycewrites.com