Month: July 2020

Kitschy, Kitschy, Eeuw …

I was recalling the 1960s “rec room” from my early childhood today and feeling a pang of empathy for that small girl, who was so proudĀ  of the questionable family touches that I felt sure elevated our home to another plateau of grooviness …

First, there was the purchase of a new Naugahyde couch, (“but what is a Nauga,” I questioned repeatedly, wondering what this unknown animal could be like.) The colour alone – a startling shade of Flaming Apricot – should have been the tip-off here and its slippery, unyielding cushions were as cold and rigid as a cemetery bench. But I loved it nonetheless and any rogue Cheeto dust remained undetected.

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Panic without the Disco

Once more a long time has passed since my last posting here but we are still in Covid mode, still trying to adjust to whatever the “new normal” (hate that phrase) brings. Not sure why there has been such a gap, but rather than using this pandemic time to learn a new language, or restore my body to its former Olympian glory (ha) I just don’t seem to have it in me to take on a project of any kind and writing has seemed futile and meaningless.

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