I woke up this morning with a song swirling through my mind, a song that I sang long ago, in one choir or another. It was not a song I particularly liked--kind of a simple melody and chords--nothing terribly interesting or challenging to perform--so, the perfect kind of song to get stuck in one's head.
"I have this awful boring song stuck in my head this morning," I said to Ian as I came into the kitchen with the coffee he'd just delivered to me in bed. "The water is wide . . . and I cannot get o'er . . ." I sang, "and neither have I . . . wings to fly . . ."
He laughed, and pointed out that yesterday my life had been all about fixing the side sewer in Wallingford before putting the house on the market (to the tune of about $20,000); and dealing with the annoyances and frustrations of the new Orcas and San Juan Islands ferry reservation system.
The water IS wide.