all you need

8.30 a.m. Sunday morning, quiet and fragrant and blessed. The garden is moving into its mauve period - phlox, rose of Sharon, lavender - with a pop of yellow rudbeckia, the white balloons of hydrangea and the giant toppling golden glow behind. I thank you god for most this amazing day ...

We are gathering here for bagels and smoked salmon this morning.  We are a cliché of togetherness. How I love being a cliché, for once.

With all this going on, I've still managed to carve out a bit time for work on the new memoir, working title "1979". As usual, all I can think is - who cares? Who wants to read about a confused 29-year old woman who doesn't know what she wants in life? This one isn't even funny, it just rambles on and on. I'm sure it's terrible. But I also think there's a kernel of something that will work, if I can just figure out what it is. So next week, this draft will go to two trusted readers, to get a sense of where I am and where I have to go.

In the meantime, I have to go get dressed and prepare for brunch.

There's a wonderful website, Pop Sonnets, that does Shakespearean versions of well-known pop songs - very clever and skilful. Your morning smile.

(There's nothing you can do that can't be done

Nothing you can sing that can't be sung
Nothing you can say but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy

There's nothing you can make that can't be made
No one you can save that can't be saved
Nothing you can do but you can learn to be you in time
It's easy

All you need is love)