And, I placed the lady from the music store. I did meet her at Churchill’s back when she was 26-ish. Once that popped into my head, I found her on mySpace within two minutes. That’s her picture today, and I know the door in the background (above her forehead) is to the kitchen at Churchill’s. I’ll have to get her a nickname, you know the rules. She sings and plays washboard with a number of different guitarists, always male. Comes from a rich background, I think. Educated. And but for a few details like her age, my type.Myself, I felt like I’d been partying all night. In fact, I should be totally rested, since I didn’t even take the free drink Jim offered to buy last evening. Yeah, that’s what I feel like, hungover. That’s not supposed to happen unless you drink, right? Shucks, and I missed the party. It was easy to apply my Saturday rule of staying home. I’m only half way through the first season of “The Sopranos”. I may be addicted to the series. One thing I can say, however, is for being screwed up, at least these Mafia did right for their kids.
Nothing happened today. My weight feels around 300 pounds and even a pot of home made chicken soup doesn’t help. I drank nothing but smoothies of banana, pear, apricot and apple today. This better not be the onset of a fever. I don’t have time for that right now, or in the next fifty years for that matter. I bought another mystery book at the library Saturday sale and nothing short of a fire will get me out of the house now.
Earlier, I was in the shop. I did what checking I could around the area and asked questions pertaining to the type of bands in operation. It is hard to get this information. Now I have it narrowed to just one question. “Are there any country music bands that work this area?” If so, they do not advertise, I’ve never seen or heard of them, and a single washboard does not a country band make. It makes sense because all the guitarists around here play the same mix of blues and old semi-rock and likely never give country bands any worth. Now that, I find interesting.
Later. I am reading “Missing: Page Thirteen” by Anna Green, who is reputedly a trendsetter in mysteries. If so, this trend was an awfully long time ago. It involves mansions, passages, and the standard personalities. A scientist with a secret formula accidentally gets the millionaire’s sleeping powder while reviewing his notes alone in a room. He awakens, and there it is—gone! They call in Violet Strange, the lady detective who, as luck would have it, not only has an affinity for finding secret passages made for children, but can also fit through them. This was in the pre-MacDonald’s era.
She finds the page and I find there are still ten pages of the story left. That means she found something else behind the sealed off doorway. It can only be something of terrible significance to the millionaire, but it is too late to finish tonight. Come back tomorrow for the solution.
