I tend to not be inclined to want to [attempt to] give tributes to fallen artists and won't begin today, but I ran across this, The Artist Formerly Known As and Sheryl Crow, Nineteen and Ninety Nine, doing her bands' song, his arrangement .. as I understand it. Every day is a winding road indeed. I fear I may be guilty of not appreciating Prince to the degree I should have .. paid attention .. while he was living. He truly was one of those hundred year storms wasn't he.
The house burning down effect has finally hit J, as I expected it would the other night when we ate shellfishes together, before the shock and the at least nobody was killed wore away. I tried consolations like, 'hey, at least my business is doing well' and 'don't worry about the bills--I've got this for a while' and 'uh, I love you' but she looked so sad this morning after a migraine night, and of course it has to be cloudy and cold today; she said 'I want to be successful too.' And the other house, the one we are trying to buy, Wells Fartgo won't sign documents they've had for weeks, and she is thinking the worse, that now too, this deal will fall apart. Bad things come in threes.
I got into Prince listening today which was bitter-sweet, after going to TJ's for ice cream and roses and while cleaning the kitchen .. making the bed. She is out trying to find her iBox keyholding device that was on the door smashed in by the fire department during Tuesday nights' cruel debacle. I put leftover angel hair pasta and meatballs in the side-yard, found nasty in the refrigerator, for the grackles and starlings .. even the varying LBBs (little brown birds) were hard into the yard garbage. I like to not waste food, and the yardbirds seem appreciative.