Play it as it Lays

Surely there are toilets to clean, bills to pay, kids to rinse, chores to cross off and a little bit of party planning begging for my attention this bleak, boorish Friday afternoon but Mama, she ain't hearing any of it. Why, you might wonder? Because for now, my bones are weak, recovering from a nasty flu, AND my rickety old record player has come back from the dead and has agreed to play all my favorite songs long into the evening, to welcome a much anticipated storm and warm the house while chicken soup comes together in the kitchen and a fire takes shape near the couch. Tomorrow. Tomorrow dutiful hands shall return. Windows shall be cleaned, laundry folded. For now, my records are lining up to take their turn.

First in line: