Bashful notes

 

What if the first phrase your parakeet learns is “Alexa, pause”...?
With apologies to Ben Britten, I just misread that as “Our Hurting Fathers.”
A place called (or subtitled) The Sushi & Tequila Experience does set me to wondering, if it’s the sort of experience people wish to repeat.
Leave it to Facebook to highlight “catalogue” as if it were a misspelling.

– Postcards From Red Squirrel Trail

I had let her talk on, for her voice was like a solution of all musical sounds. I now told her that I could hardly say whether women were happy or not. I knew one who had not been happy; and for my part, I had often longed for Fairy Land, as she now longed for the world of men. But then neither of us had lived long, and perhaps people grew happier as they grew older. Only I doubted it.

— Geo. MacDonald

After a beginning (to the process) perhaps best described as tentative, I let O singer, bashful and tender, I hear your tender notes have a good long rest, because, I suppose, I didn’t hear enough of the tender notes as yet. The news, such as it is, is that there has been no dramatic change. I’m inching closer to hearing more of the notes, really is all, at present. I foresee more notes in a non-distant future.