Laurie Gould: Don


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If it's broke, fix it

Saturday was Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement.  You're supposed to approach the day in a spirit of brokenness, and through fasting and meditation, you find community and healing.   It all came off pretty much as planned:  what with one thing and another, I started the day feeling very broken indeed; and after 26 hours of fasting and meditation my spirit was much on the mend.

Sadly, after a day and a half in a crappy auditorium chair, that sense of brokenness had moved from my spirit to my lower back.  And so early the next morning, I headed off to yoga for a little more healing.

Me and my breasts in Orlando

It has been a long and challenging summer, characterized by cancelled vacation plans, too much work, a lingering summer cold, and other travails with which I need not bore you.  So today I decided to cheer myself up by shopping for bras.


Stick to your ribs

My blog post from a few days ago centered on a visual pun involving a condom.   I actually got this idea a couple of weeks ago.   So I went straight to CVS to buy the goods.

And I stocked up on razors.

Practicing Safe Apples

A lovely weekend in July, and I have spent a chunk of it putting pantyhose on the apples in the two trees in my garden:


Killing it at the bake sale

I have been a parent for 21+ years -- 22 if you count the prior nine months during which I responsibly refrained from alcohol and high-mercury fish.   As a parent, bake sales loom large in my consciousness.   Two of the songs on my new album -- that's over 15% -- actually feature bake sales as a prominent theme.   But this month, after more than two decades, I have finally found the key to mastering the bake sale.  So as a public service, I share my new-found knowledge with you now.

The Rites of Spring

Tis the season:   click on the song title to have a listen!   And even a free download, should you be so inclined:

Rites of Spring

Fig revisited

My fig tree is dead, an event ripe with metaphorical significance of biblical proportions.  And in last week's blog post I posed the question:  what does it mean?


A fig grew in Newton

My fig tree is dead.


A Massachusetts Yankee in King Louis' Court

I have spent the past week in Louisville for work.  While I am generally cranky about travel that takes me away from home and family for extended periods (in fact, I am cranky right now!), I have to say that I have found Louisville to be totally captivating.  We in the Northeast tend to be a little arrogant about our cosmopolitan lifestyles.   But really, we should get over ourselves.   Louisville has everything Boston has, and then some. 

To start with, these people know how to deploy plastic wildlife. 

Spring Fever

It's a Saturday, a little after 1:00; and as is my usual routine at this hour, I am waiting for my daughter to finish her clarinet lesson.  I'm about to eat a lovely lunch, washed down with a delicious latte, in a charming cafe.

And I am counting the minutes until I can escape this Hell and hit the garden.


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