it's already Tuesday.
Two nights from now, a dress rehearsal, and I have not found what I will wear for this fundraiser/variety show/performance. The perverse part of me says that if I were doing truth-in- advertising I would wear drawstring knit pants and a sweatshirt; but this is a ritzy kinda thing, so I have to find something relatively slinky.
But I absolutely cannot wear high heels for any purpose whatsoever any more.
I have discovered that if I add cartooning, writing by hand and typing lyrics to all my other methods, I finally remember them. This is an age-related adjustment: I used to be able to remember almost anything after going over it twice, in my misspent and unappreciated youth. I would memorize Spanish or French vocabulary in the subway on the way to school. (Funny, history and dates never worked like that...)
Early in our relationship, my beloved taught me Chassidic tales and niggunim, melodies, which I learned and retained effortlessly, so nourished was I by their richness. Thank G-d, some of them have woven themselves in as a part of me; some I must re-learn each time I want to tell them.
I find myself wondering about the ones that fade...is it merely my memory softening around the edges, or were they only ever borrowed, and never mine to begin with?
Blessings for deep and restoring sleep.