The sun was shining through the window this morning, so I lay on the floor and let the sunlight bake me for a few moments. Then I announced to anyone who happened to be around that I was taking the day off. What this means, of course, is that I got to watch the kids while Wendy did her thing*. No matter. Since I was in a good mood, I wanted to hear music. "I'm going to turn on some music, Little Dove. What would you like to hear?" Here's what she said:
"Play some Autumn music."
I didn't want to display a lack of self-confidence by asking what constitutes Autumn music, so I put on a Cake album. I got wheels, of polished steel... Wendy told me in no uncertain terms that my selection wasn't Autumn music. Hmm. All I could think of was Vivaldi, and Vivaldi is rainy day music. Do The Killers remind me of yellow leaves, coonskin caps, and cider presses? How about Jimi Hendrix? So I put it to you, Dear Reader: What is Autumn music?
* Note: In this case, Wendy's "thing" happened to be vacuuming and dusting the house, but I don't like murky facts to get in the way of pure emotions.