[Subject line from Lawanda Walters's "The Barricade," which begins with "Francois Couperin must have loved some girl" and was featured today at poems.com.]

I spent part of my morning singing in a recording session at church (for a CD featuring some of the songs in Singing the Journey. A couple named Seth and Sarah are the recording engineers. Today's band was cooking: Kenny Smith on piano, Brian Foti on drums, and Michael Hiller on bass. Hearing them work out what sounds to produce where was a treat. Seeing the huge smile on Kenny's face when things really gelled -- that too was lovely.

Then I ran various errands, and then talked RPGs and books and beverages with a friend at Kalamata's, and then split the afternoon between reading magazines in the bathtub and drifting in and out of sleep (still hurting more than I would like, although I'm doing better).

The earlier part of the evening was spent at a party at imogene + willie's, which included watermelon margaritas (spiked with jalapeno simple syrup for those who like 'em hot), fish tacos, and a lot of people/clothes-watching.

The past several hours have been spent wrestling with a story. It went into a direction I hadn't anticipated, which is at once both aggravating and promising.