Posted by on Aug 28, 2014 | 2 comments

image

Okay, okay, I’m sitting in arugula, not under a yellow bush, but I’m going to be…

image

See!!! My yellow bush.

Well, here’s a sweet little turn of affairs. There I am, daily in the garden under my yellow bush now that the sun has deigned to shine upon us for few more minutes of the summer, and softly, slowly I hear the lovely voice of an anthro singing songs that are decidedly French in nature. You know those wonderful voices from the 20s and 30s that mama plays sometimes on our CD player, voices that sort of pull you into a Paris street with people in cafes sipping coffee or wine (or stronger) and all the words with an ‘r’ in them are rolled out like a carpet of sound? Ah, Paris…

Not that I’ve been often to Paris, but on the TV I’ve seen old photos of a Paris that used to be, a France that was, and the singers are so poignant and their messages so personal. Hey, I watched that movie about that really smart pig called “Babe” with mama and papa, and I listened to those silly mice singing Je ne regrette rien and it was just about the most moving movie song (from silly mice) that I’d heard in my short kitty life.

So in our garden, our really wonderful neighbor has begun to put on music each morning—sometimes classical, sometimes rock, sometimes salsa (!) but today it was Georges Brassens singing about love and life and politics. Mama made this video and I hope it works:

But I started thinking how nice to have a neighbor who doesn’t yell and scream and throw wild parties, scaring all the kitties on the street (and some anthros) and how there are such kind people in the world if we stop to listen to their music, because maybe more people than you know are trying to play you a song to make your day happier.

Mine certainly was.  Listen to my garden music:

Turn volume all the way, thank you.

As for regret, Ms. Piaf and all the singing mice, I only regret that there are not enough hours in the day to snooze under my yellow bush with mama near me, clipping and pruning and talking to her plants.  I have the music of the garden and Georges Brassens in my little kitty ears, helping me to dream sweet kitty dreams.

image

I decided to dream in nasturtiums, okay?