Monday Missive – The Last Day of August #WDIIA

What day is it? August 31st. The last day of August already! How can that be? I feel like Rip Van Winkle with two major exceptions. First of all, I did not get to sleep through this mess and wake on the other side to a changed new world, and I did not suffer the alcoholic stupor which brought on his 20 year sleep. I sure hope this thing does not last 20 years. I truly want to live again, out and about with the people I love.

  • Saturday was our oldest daughter’s birthday. We sent flowers and chocolate on Friday for fear they had plans on Saturday. They did not, so we also had the opportunity to drive down to say hello to the whole family. Her sister was there, too, so it was a real treat even if it was standing on the driveway, socially distanced.
  • On Sunday, we went to the apple orchard. We had not been at all this year and we wanted to get some Honey-crisp apples before they were all gone. We did not go into the orchard to pick, we selected our apples from those already picked. Our daughters drove to the orchard as well. We were all masked up and there was hand sanitizer everywhere outside the shed.  Afterward we sat outside, and visited for a while. It is odd to carry on a conversation with people you love through masks. Such a strange time.
  • After the orchard, we drove to the Asheville Farmers’ market in search of fall plants. Our cucumber vines are yellow and exhausted, along with most of our tomato plants. The heat and the rain was hard on the garden.  The peppers are all producing like wildfire. The plan today was to tear out the old plants, amend the soil, and plant the fall vegetables, but it is extremely wet out there.
  • We had another severe storm roll through just after midnight last night. Another inch of rain by the time we woke. The temperature was only 70°F, but of course the humidity is still at 99%.
  • I am just realizing I did not take any photos all weekend. I usually leave my ohone in my purse when we go out and I think I was so caught up in seeing family, I did not even think about photos. I may try to take one of the breakfast I am looking forward to. In addition to apples, when we visit the orchard, we always pick up a few apple cider donuts, a couple of apple fritters (my anticipated breakfast), and a couple of fried apple pies.
  • On our video chat with our three year old granddaughter, she said Santa would not come this year because of Corona Virus. Of course we told her Santa and the reindeers could fly up high and still drop off presents, not to worry. I think her parents were quite surprised to hear her say that. Such a tough time for the little ones.

That’s it for me. How are things going in your Corona World?


Song Lyric Sunday – Everybody Plays the Fool

Welcome back to Song Lyric Sunday.

This week we have some the more deviant, sinister, sordid, terrible, vicious words  Cruel / Evil / Horrible / Monster / Wicked, and hopefully everyone will be able to find a song that utilizes one of these prompt words in the title or in the lyrics.

I found a song I would not describe as deviant, sinister, sordid, terrible, or vicious.

“Everybody Plays the Fool” was written for country singer Charlie Pride by J.R. Bailey, Rudy Clark, and Tim Williams. Pride decided the song was not ‘country enough’. The song was then given to a trio from Harlem who had been through several name changes – The Main Ingredient (the name taken from the words written on a Coke bottle). The song was arranged with an orchestra backup and recorded although the band did not particularly like the song.

Surprisingly, the song took off in the U.S. while the band was on tour in Europe unbeknownst to them. Also surprising was that the song could not get any airplay on R&B stations. Something certainly changed because the song hit gold, made #2 on the Billboard R&B chart, #3 on the Billboard Hot 100. and was nominated for a Grammy for best R&B song of the year in 1973.

The Main Ingredient was originally comprised of Donald McPherson, Luther Simmons, and Tony Silvester with Cuba Gooding, Sr. Singing backup. Unfortunately, McPherson was diagnosed with and lost his life to leukemia. Cuba Gooding, Sr. (Yes, Cuba Gooding, Jr.’s father and notice how much son favors his father) was then moved into the role of lead vocalist.

Aaron Neville covered the song in 1991 and it reached #8 on the Billboard Hot 100.

Wikipedia contributors. (2020, June 10). Everybody Plays the Fool. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia. Retrieved 05:23, August 30, 2020, from
Simmons, R. (2017, April 3). The Story Behind The Main Ingredient, Everybody Plays the Fool.
Retrieved from

(A note for John Holton over at The Sound of One Hand Typing: this is another good one with spoken lyrics!)

Everybody Plays the Fool
Lyrics from

Okay, so you’re heartbroken
You sit around mopin’
Crying, crying
You say you’re even thinking about dying?
Well, before you do anything rash
Dig this

Everybody plays the fool sometime
There’s no exception to the rule
Listen, baby
It may be factual, may be cruel
I ain’t lying
Everybody plays the fool

[Verse 1]
Falling in love is such an easy thing to do
And there’s no guarantee that the one you love
Is gonna love you

Oh, loving eyes, they cannot see
A certain person could never be
Love runs deeper than any ocean
It clouds your mind with emotion

Everybody plays the fool sometime
There’s no exception to the rule
Listen, baby
It may be factual, may be cruel
I wanna tell you that
Everybody plays the fool

[Verse 2]
How can you help it when the music starts to play
And your ability to reason is swept away

Oh, heaven on earth is all you see
You’re out of touch with reality
And now you cry, but when you do
Next time around someone cries for you

Everybody plays the fool sometime
They use your heart just like a tool
Listen baby
They never tell you so in school
I wanna say it again
Everybody plays the fool

Listen to me, baby
Everybody plays the fool sometime
(There’s no exception to the rule)
No exception to the rule
It may be factual, may be cruel sometimes
Everybody plays the fool

Listen, listen, baby
Everybody plays the fool

Why not join in on this Sunday blogging ritual. Head over to Jim Adams blog to check out the rules and read some of the great responses to the weekly prompt.


Weekend Writing Prompt 172 – Endless

Weekend Writing Prompt provided by Sammi at SammiScribbles. The challenge is to write  poem or prose using only 18 words exactly and including the word ‘Endless’. Lovely challenge. Thank you, Sammi!

Relentless my love for you
My soul exposed believing
It Endless
Except for you it wasn’t



SoCS – Hundreds and Hundreds!

Linda gives us a math prompt of sorts for Stream of Consciousness Saturday this week:

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “more than a hundred.” Write your post inspired by something you have more than a hundred of in your home right now. Enjoy!

What do I have hundreds of in my house right now? Hmmm. Depends on whether or not I count the garage, too.

In our house we have more than 100 books. We have 8 bookcases, three are 6 1/2’ tall and four are 7’ tall. But wait! We also have books on almost every table in our house. We have books in boxes, too.

Hubby likes to keep every book he ever read, me, not so much. I have my favorites that I hang onto. I do not re-read books very often. Before we retired, hubby said he was keeping all his books so he could reread them in retirement. We have been retired four years now and he still buys books, but mostly on Kindle now. Oh, yeah, we both have books on Kindle although I try to read my books from the library.

We did donate a lot of books before we moved from the house we owned to the rental house in Florida. That was hard for hubby, but honestly, I don’t think either of us have missed them.

I still like to buy books written by people I know. Those I keep.

Now, if I count the garage, we have more than 100 tools. Between my jewelry tools 🧰 and our household tools 🛠 and the garage tools ⚒️ we have a lot. Hubby has tools that belonged to his dad. In Florida, tools would rust in the garage because of the humidity. I have even blogged about my love of tools.

Last week, before I cleaned and vacuumed, I could have written about the more than 100 dust bunnies in our house, but not any more!


To Everything There is a Season

This morning I woke to a smattering of leaves, fallen on the driveway. They are the first stitches of the fall quilt that will soon blanket everything. I made new hummingbird food for the feeder, which may be the last of the season. The last brood of bluebirds have been very active, the juvenile birds flapping their wings, beaks wide open waiting to be fed.

There are signs of the approaching fall everywhere, yet life still struggles to hang on. While the dogwoods change color and their berries turn red, little wildflowers make their way to the surface, determined to be seen, yet so small they are easily overlooked.

I welcome fall, but there is a particular melancholy that floats through the air like the last butterfly of the season. It is the acknowledgement that life moves on, everything having its own season. I am very aware of the feeling as I feel the loss of a summer lost to the virus. When I think we have lived in this uncertainty for a full season, it seems unfathomable.

It feels like the months that follow after losing a loved one. The loss heavy on your senses, changing the taste and smell of everything. The uncertainty of tomorrow while trying to hang on to what once was. Will life ever be the same?

I long for my family. To share a cup of coffee, or snuggle into each other to watch a movie we have seen a thousand times. There is comfort in the familiar. Knowing how the story ends leaves time for hugs and giggles and enjoying the presence of those we love.

Our blueberry bushes produced so many blueberries this year. Yesterday I made blueberry pancakes. My seven year old grandson said he missed me and remembered when he came to my house and he had pancakes with smiley faces. He feels the loss, too.

Tomorrow I will celebrate the change of seasons. Today, I sip my coffee, allowing myself to feel the heaviness of a summer lost. Just for today, I want to breathe it all in.