Once upon a time, my wife and I were acquired by Susan from Seattle in a legal matter resolved in a different galaxy in a bygone era. Susan is fond of saying that my wife and I “were part of the settlement.” But that is a tale best left for another day.
Before Seattle, Susan had lived in a diverse series of locations from the coal regions of Wilkes Barre (where we met), to Houston, to places certainly made no brighter by her departure. In recent times she has settled in Seattle.
Susan is a woman of exquisite taste, both in food and in wine. She has a curious mind, an appreciation of special films, good books and beguiling music. She is longtime aficionado of Steven Sondheim, and a fervent admirer of Patti LuPone (as are legions of others). Susan is currently relishing a passion for Mr. Sondheim's and James Lapine's Passion, with Donna Murphy.
The King’s spies being everywhere, I recently learned that, in distant Seattle, Susan has new Internet capabilities installed at her home. So it occurred to me to brighten her Sunday morning with an image that would please -- and which might lead her down whichever meandering path she chooses to follow today in her new environment.
Into the woods,
It's time to go,
I hate to leave,
I have to, though.
Into the woods --
It's time, and so
I must begin my journey.
Into the woods.
(Lyrics, of course, by Mr. Sondheim -- and they have been known to be used as a header phrase for the slumbering Poconotions.)
No comments:
Post a Comment