Laurie Gould: Don


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Boarding the Friendly Skies

We will be boarding the plane this morning by group number.  Your group number should be printed on your boarding pass in inescapably large font.  If you do not have a group number on your boarding pass it means that you have failed in some way.  Please approach the podium so that we can mock you.


A sneak preview video from my new album, "Anxiety Dream," to be released this summer!   But I'm sure you'll agree that this particular tune is much more appropriate now:


Calling all lactobacilli

If you know me, or if you’ve been reading the blog for a bit, you may be aware that I have certain Earth mother habits which, depending on your perspective, make me a paragon of righteous living, a sanctimonious prig, or a hopeless eccentric.    Most of these habits center on food:  I make all of our household’s bread (whole grain, sourdough), as well as salad dressing, soup stock, corn tortillas.   Most important, I’ve never met a vegetable I didn’t like, with the exception of okra, because it is objectively disgusting.

Before you get too concerned, let me set your mind at ease. I wear lipstick.  I don’t own a pair of Birkenstock.   I made damn sure that my children got every single one of their vaccinations, right on time.   And then I had the pediatrician give them a few extra shots for good measure.

But I do have this vegetable thing, which led me to sign on to a year-round farmshare.  Yes, this is in addition to my vegetable garden.   So there are times of the year when I harvest head after head of lettuce, and then eagerly tear open my farmshare box to find....a half-bushel of lettuce.  But that’s OK with me.  Because who can ever have enough lettuce?



For the record....

Tomorrow I will head to the recording studio for my first session for my second album.

There is a fabulous bunch of session musicians lined up to play tomorrow.   It is an unbelievable kick to hear tunes I've written performed by truly talented musicians -- the songs become something else entirely, so much better than I could have imagined.  And these are guys who could make "Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star" sound great.

The only problem is that I am the vocalist.  And I am going to suck.

The Stork Goes to Europe

In a couple of weeks I will be heading to the recording studio to start work on my second album.   This is enormously exciting for me, but also a little scary, since it will once again involve an outlay of a bit of money and a lot of time.  But no problem, because my first album continues to rake in the cash:   $54.87, in fact, deposited in my bank account by CDBaby on December 24.   It was the only music-related payment I received in 2013.

I am definitely keeping my day job.

A good birthday scrub

Yesterday was my birthday.   I was blessed with calls from family, sweet and thoughtful gifts and notes from friends, and a lovely dinner out with dear friends followed by an equally lovely dinner out with my husband and our younger daughter.   Email brought birthday wishes from my dentist, the Red Cross, and a dating service.   Along with messages from friends near and far, Facebook (clearly respecting the sanctity of my personal information, like, I don't know, my birthday) offered me this:



The memos I didn't get

I spent much of the past week trapped in a hotel room with a jacuzzi.


Re-run of a favorite holiday music video

OK:  it's my favorite of my holiday music videos.   It's also my ONLY holiday music video.   But in the words of my people:  what's not to like?

You can now find all my music videos on this website's new "videos" page.   Check it out! 

But first, watch this:


Airborne Snacks

Air travel is such an odd experience.    Last Sunday I got on a plane in Boston (45 degrees) and got off in Kansas City (15 degrees).   On Tuesday I flew to Tampa (79 degrees); on Friday I returned to Boston (20 degrees).    Such huge transitions in a such a short period of time!    It's like the laws of nature don't apply.

Certainly it's like the laws of MY nature don't apply.    Air travel means that I need to stand in lines a lot and sit still for long periods of time.   I believe that these are my two very least favorite activities (followed closely by dental surgery).  


Giving thanks, giving blood

My life last week:

Tuesday I braved the insanity that is Whole Foods two days before Thanksgiving.   Wednesday I hosted a latke party for nine, brined the turkey, made the beds for the first wave of houseguests, and cooked the pastry cream for the Buche de Thanksgivukkah (pictured below).   Thursday was Thanksgiving for 13 (15, really, but two didn't show up), including two turkeys, stuffing, cranberry sauce, buckets of veggies of all sorts, two kinds of homemade bread, a couple of pies, and of course, the Buche:

Friday I woke up early to make muffins for the crowd, washed the sheets and towels after the first round of departing houseguests, served lunch for six, drove to the train station, served dinner for four.   Saturday I woke at 4:45 am to drive my older daughter to the airport, worked out, helped out at synagogue, took my younger daughter shoe shopping, and hosted a leftover fest for eight. 

By Sunday I was exhausted.   So I did the most relaxing thing I could think of:  I went to the local Masonic hall to donate blood.

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