And I don't mind the clothesline in their back yard. Why would I? But, apparently, that's a thing--objecting to clotheslines--in some places. Sigh.... Speaking of clotheslines: "Clothesline." (I remembered this blue poem in Waccamaw this past spring.)
Not-so-imaginary soundtrack (meaning I was listening to these songs while cooking): "Blue of Blue" sung by Carly Simon on her Torch album, and Joni Mitchell's Blue album. It was a blue sky October day, one that got warmer but which caused us to turn on the furnace in the morning. I was a little blue about being old enough to be cold enough to turn on the furnace on October 14, but then I remembered they turn on the heat lamps on the el platforms in Chicago on October 1, and I was younger when I eagerly awaited that date, shivering on the platform, waiting for the A train. But that, too, shows how old I am, as now it's the Red Line, and the train stops at both A and B stations. (Maybe it's changed again. I've been away a while.)
Definitely-imaginary soundtrack: theme song from Gilligan's Island, the phrase "a three-hour tour," substituting "four" for "three." Yesterday I drove four hours round trip, taking our daughter back to college after a weekend visit home. So, yes, residual blue from that, hugging her at her dorm as we said goodbye again. But, you know, there is joy in all this blueness. Things are as they should be. It's good to grow up.