Lovely, Lovely Day

Yes, I’m going to be inside all day but I hope to be able to walk home.

I’ve been working so hard on this one particular chapter. It’s about singing and death, and singing about death, with a little of the history of singing about death. It’s kinda a key chapter and it has to be stellar, so needless to say it hasn’t been easy.

This is a pretty little park right near me that I almost never use. I took this shot on my way to buying kitty litter. Lugging is my life. Even the checkout girl said, “Are you sure you can handle this,” when she was bagging the litter I bought to lug home. (Two ten pound bags.)

Oh! There was a new and positive review on Amazon for my book Unbelievable!! Every time a new review appears I feel instantly terrified. What if it’s bad? I’ve grown amazingly thin-skinned. So when it turns out to be nice it makes me that much more happier, so thank you new review person!! (Peter Saginaw, I just looked.)


Stacy Horn

I've written six non-fiction books, the most recent is Damnation Island: Poor, Sick, Mad, and Criminal in 19th-Century New York.

View all posts by Stacy Horn →

4 thoughts on “Lovely, Lovely Day

  1. Stacy, this sounds like an important chapter and I’m looking forward to reading it. We expect your usual thoughtful approach – no pressure, right?

    When I was young, I was the head bugler in an American Legion marching band and also played taps at many Memorial Day commemorations (going from one to the next all day) as well as dedications (buildings, bridges, parks, etc) throughout the year to specific soldiers (1960’s VietNam era). I always wondered if playing taps really comforted the families of the soldiers who gave their lives for us. The families were almost always present, and ever the obedient little toy soldier who knew why he was there, I never spoke to them. I’ll never know if playing taps helped them in any way. As the death toll increased, I questioned my own role (do my actions suggest support for the politicians or show respect for the dead?) I gave it up and have not picked up a bugle or trumpet since the 60’s.

  2. I think music is sometimes the only comfort we have, words being close to useless at times like this. Their loved one is dead and gone. What is there to be said? Music is more emotionally direct way to comfort someone and Taps in particular. I don’t know why. It just is.
    It helped them.

  3. Invest in a good backpack and use the belt at the waist. You may look dorky but your back will thank you. After I hang the bike up for the winter, I have to walk to get groceries – about 20 minutes each way. So I have to do a lot of lugging too. I feel like a Sherpa. But the backpack works much better than carrying things in your hands.

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