A Friendly Musical Visit Every Day

I've been feeling so sick the past few days that I've barely had the energy to watch TV--and that's saying something. Watching TV isn't exactly a gruelling task. But one of my meds has been making me sick to my stomach, and after days of this I am just so weak. It's times like this when I realize how much my partner does to take care of me and to take care of our surroundings when I'm unwell. I'm noticing how much he does because he's not here. He's at his house; I'm at my place. And my place is a mess because I don't have the energy to clean it properly. Now I'm realizing that usually, when I'm sick, he does the dishes, he dries them and puts them away so we don't have a kitchen full of dirty dishes. Normally when I'm sick to my stomach, he runs to the bathroom with me and holds my hair. If my hair is pulled back, he pets my head because he says he doesn't know what else to do. But clearly he does know what to do, beca...

My chronic illness was sparked by the onset of menopause (thank you very much, hormonal changes) and yet my mother is constantly saying to me: "I don't understand why you're so sick all the time. You were such a healthy baby." Yeah, you'd think that would have carried me all the way through life. Weird. I was listening to a Paralympian talking about proving to the world how much we (people with disabilities) can do. Because I became disabled in adulthood (well, midlife), I find it's the opposite with me: I feel like I have to somehow prove that I can no longer do things I could very easily do earlier in life. And I hate that feeling. And, realistically, it's not "the world" I need to prove this to. It's certainly not my doctors--they have been wonderfully supportive. Strangers at the grocery store and random people on the street are lovely and helpful, for the most part. The only people who challenge me are my closest family members. Main...

Sorry for taking off without letting you know what was going on. I didn't quite know what was going on, myself.  On the face of it, I just didn't feel like I had anything to share with you, music-wise. I'd been scrambling for songs, and that didn't suit the spirit of this here blog. But I think my health issues and mental health issues were actually weighing me down so badly I just wanted to hide. My brother had routine dental surgery that went wrong in a way I didn't even know it could go wrong, and he is suffering tremendously. He doesn't complain, but you can see it in a person's face (the sunken eyes, etc) when they are in terrible pain. I know because I see it in the mirror pretty much every day. I am worried about my brother, but I'm also worried about myself, because the thing that happened to him actually clarified one of the health issues I've been experiencing (we have some of the same medical problems) and now I am scared out of my mind. F...

Yesterday I told you about my partner's favourite number from the jazz festival. This one was mine. I'd never actually heard it before and had no idea it was a jazz standard (despite the fact that I listened to a jazz radio station for years). I had to do a bit of digging to find out who was the vocalist on this 1926 (yes, that's almost 100 years ago) track (her name is May Alix) and that led me down a slight rabbit hole, where I discovered that "butter and egg man" was 1920s slang for a big spender: a travelling salesman who spent his cash freely at nightclubs. At the jazz festival, various people were dancing to the Dixieland band--most notably, a man who looked (and dressed) exactly like Colonel Sanders. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  w...

I'm sitting here doing something I never in my life imagined myself doing. I'm drinking decaf. When I was younger, I used to wonder why decaf even existed. If you want coffee, just drink coffee! For real, dude! Now that I'm old(er) and chronically ill, I get decaf. I get it. Throughout my twenties and most of my thirties, I was addicted to coffee. If I didn't drink it, I got terrible headaches. I tried to quit on many occassions, but I just couldn't. Not even for a day. I'd be in so much pain from the withdrawal, so I'd go back. Coffee had me in its grips. As I approached 40, my heart started acting up. My sister insisted on taking me to the emergency room. There was nothing wrong with me, which felt even scarier than if there had been something wrong with me. Because if I was fine, why was I having heart palpitations? I quit cold turkey and it stuck. (My aunt later informed me that she had heart palpilations during perimenopause. At the time, I thoug...

My partner usually gets out of bed before I do. If we ran the dishwasher the night before, the first thing he does is quietly unload the clean dishes and put them away. When I get up, if I notice that he's done this (big IF, there...), I thank him. He's always perplexed by the thank you. He's like... of course I unloaded the dishwasher. Why wouldn't I? I see all these tweets from women's whose husbands call or text them to say "I unloaded the dishwasher" like they're expecting a doggie treat in return, and I realize how lucky I am. My partner isn't even of my generation (he's older than me) and he does practically everything around the house. He reasons that it's his house, so why would he expect me to clean it? Well, I spend the vast majority of my time at his house--that's why. The only tasks that have really become MINE are washing the dishes (he dries) and cleaning the bathrooms (he cleans the entire rest of the house). And...

There's a fly in the house, and it follows me from room to room like a faithful pup.  Put me in mind of this song. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely. I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . I also recommend subscribing to my newsletter. I generally e-mail subscribers with a weekly update, and I would LOVE to have you on the list.  Click here to sign up:  http://eepurl.com/R4b11 See you soon! Giselle

My partner doesn't sing. But he sang this song to me the other night, and it was just the sweetest thing. He'd been talking about Mitch Miller and "follow the bouncing ball" singalongs that his parents--both vocalists--loved, and I was asking what kind of songs his parents liked, and he mentioned this one. I thought I'd come here and tell you, but of course I forgot what the song was five seconds later, so I asked my partner, "What was that song you just mentioned?" And instead of just reciting the lyrics, as he'd done before, he sang to me.  He doesn't like his singing voice, and he's very shy about sharing it--even with me, even though I sing at him constantly--so when he does sing, I feel like he's sharing a very special part of himself. So sweet.  If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your lo...

I have a friend who is 18 years older than I am, so she knows all about aging. All the standard stuff I'm going through is stuff she's been through already. So when I complained that I can't even have a cup of tea before bed anymore because the caffeine keeps me up, she had the perfect solution: decaffeinated tea. She took me to her kitchen cupboard, pulled out a box of store brand decaf teabags, and started stuffing them in a ziplock bag for me to take home. As she did so, she said, "This tea is actually pretty good. Well, it's not too bad. Well, it's okay. Well, it's fine." I couldn't agree less. The tea she gave me was awful. But! I later bought myself a little thingy of Tetley's decaffeinated Earl Grey, and that tea is one I would wholeheartedly recommend. It actually tastes really and genuinely GOOD and it doesn't keep me up all night.  If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest t...

Remember when this song was made into a Cheez Whiz (sp?) commercial? Would have been in the late 80s or early 90s. That commercial (and thus this song) popped into my head this morning as I was reading an old story of mine. I thought to myself, "Wow, this story has personality!"  And I burst into song. My partner used to love Cheez Whiz before his cancer treatment. Radiation changed the way he tastes things, meaning most things taste like nothing. When he was undergoing radiation he had to eat mostly creamy foods because hard foods are too difficult to consume when your throat is full of radiation burns. Having to eat creamy stuff all the time really put him off that particular texture, and now that things like Cheeze Whiz and peanut butter, which he used to eat every day, taste like nothing and have an unappealing texture, he just avoids them. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books...

I found out via social media that my fellow erotica author Victoria Blisse died this week. I'm not sure how many readers of my lil music blog here are also connoisseurs of fine smut, but anyone who's been around the erotic fiction community for some time has probably encountered Victoria, and knows what a kick-ass, lovely person she was.  Victoria Blisse used to organize an event called Smut by the Sea, and I'd ship Giselle merch over to her in England to give away, plus contributors' copies of erotic anthologies for her Erotic Tombola. That's how I learned what a Tombola was--we don't have them here in Canada. Along with Lucy Felthouse, Victoria was co-editor of a number of anthologies that featured my work (including one that was called Smut by the Sea, though I think it's off the market now). I had plenty of interaction with her back then, though not so much recently, and that makes me incredibly sad. She just kept growing into an even cooler person, and ...

As I was falling asleep last night, I was eagerly looking forward to waking up this morning. I've got so much writing to do, and I wanted to do it. I should have known the stormy weather would have other plans for me. Rain and storms and changes in barometric pressure are my biggest migraine triggers. My doctor has got me on so many meds and supplements to try to prevent chronic migraines from ruining my life completely, and we've managed to reduce the severity of my pain somewhat, but the weather still knocks me on my ass more often than not. As my partner and I drove through a tremendous storm yesterday, I was feeling really tired and not-so-good, but I kept saying to him, "Normally, I would not be able to function with this kind of rain." Well, all I had to do was wait a day. The rain stuck around and I woke up with a migraine. It's almost noon and I've been in bed all morning. This is the first time I've been able to look at my computer. Sorry i...

There's so much I could write, in relation to this song, about caregiving and the worn-out feeling that comes with being needed too much and for too long.  I could write five thousand posts about times caregiving tasks have triggered a trauma response in me, because my busted limbic system is stuck in a time when I was neglected and parentified in childhood, when I couldn't be a proper kid because I had to take care of other people in a home that was not safe. But it's going to be exhausting, if I write all that, and I would much rather sit back and listen to this beautiful performance while rain and fall leaves pelt my window, and the sky looms ominous and grey over the neighbour's roofline.  I'd rather close my eyes for a while and disappear into this song. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Suppo...

My mother doesn't often tell me stories from her childhood, but she told me one the other day, and now I'm going to pass it on to you. I'd been telling her about trick-or-treating with my friends, as a child. Since I went to school out of district, all my classmates lived in a much nicer neighbourhood than I did. Many of them lived in what I call Home Alone Houses: mansions before McMansions were a thing. Whenever I could, I went trick-or-treating with them, because you got way better candy--sometimes even full-sized chocolate bars! One of the houses on our route belonged to a real estate agent. We always saw her picture in the local paper, so, to us, she was famous. Like a movie star! And of course a movie star would give out full-size chocolate bars, so we were so excited as we raced up to her house. But when the door opened, it wasn't the real estate agent--it was her husband. And he didn't give us full-size chocolate bars. He gave us raisins.  The story m...

My partner was just telling me a friend of his wanted to go to Istanbul, then he opened the newspaper and there was a full-page advertisement: Visit Istanbul! So obviously I started singing this song. I mean, how could a person NOT sing this song? The first time I remember hearing it was on Tiny Toons, which I flippin' LOVED, despite possibly being a little old for it...? I mean, are you ever really too old for cartoons? Really? My excuse for watching children's cartoons well into my teens (okay, and into adulthood...) is that I wanted to be an animator for a good part of my childhood. I've probably mentioned this before, but I loved drawing, I loved animation, and I wanted to make a career out of it. I changed gears a bunch of times before beginning my career as a writer in 2006, but I never came anywhere close to becoming an animator. A friend of mine did, though. I'll share one of his animations with you tomorrow. If you're wondering how you can support me...

Okay, so I finally went to the emergency room. My partner took me there. We arrived at 9 at night. We left at 3 in the morning. It was exhausting and at the end of it, all I know is that I'm not likely to die right this second. There actually weren't too many patients waiting to be seen, and because it was the middle of the night there were a fair number of young children and babies. I have warm feelings toward parents who can't wait until the doctor's office opens to find out if their child's fever is life-threatening. We shared a waiting room with a mom and her toddler, who looked to be about my granddaughter's age (did I mention that I have a granddaughter now?) and who was very nearly as cute as my granddaughter--which is really saying something, because my granddaughter is officially the most adorable kid on the planet. Around two in the morning, the child in the ER waiting room said to his mother, "Wan go home." I was thinking, "I...

When you spend many hours of your day on a hospital ward, you overhear a lot of conversations. The other week, I overheard one that made me feel not so alone, and I want to share it with you now. The patient in the next bed had the same cancer as my partner. His wife was sitting with him. After a lengthy conversation with the nurse, the husband/patient mentioned to his wife/caregiver that some friends of theirs were supposed to visit later in the week. The wife said, dejectedly, "Oh, we'll have to cancel that." The husband waited a long moment and then said, "I think it's okay if they still come." They were feeling each other out. The husband obviously wanted to see his friends. The wife did not have the energy for it.  I know this because she said so later in the conversation. But before she got to there, she said, "The house is such a mess." The husband said, "Yeah, we need to vacuum."  The wife said, "Yeah. WE need to vacuum....

When we were talking about shooting stars the other day, this was actually the first song that popped into my head. I didn't make it our song of the day at the time because I don't exactly love it, but it did remind me of a TV show I used to watch in the 80s. I had to look it up just now, because I couldn't remember what it was called--or anything else about it, for that matter. Apparently the show I had in mind was called "Out of This World." Based on the opening credits, it looks like it was a sitcom about a teenager who is some kind of alien with superpowers? I love that I'm 100% sure I watched this show, and yet I don't remember anything about it aside from the theme song. If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and anecdotes, the easiest thing you can do is buy my books (most are for adults only!) or check them out from your local library.  Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugel...

I didn't expect to be saying these words today (or ever), but after almost 900 daily posts (!!!) I'm going to have to put this beloved little music blog of mine on a brief hiatus.  My partner is moving this month, I'm trying to finish writing a book, I've got a million things to do, and we've reached the something's-gotta-give stage. I love (love, love, love, love) producing this blog for you, but time is at a premium this month and it takes more time than you might expect for me to put together these little posts every day. So I leave you, for the time being, with a special request from my partner. This is "way up there" on his list of favourite songs, and it truly reflects the way he sees the world around him. All the sweet elements of nature I tend to take for granted, he sees.  He points them out to me. That's one of the many things I love about him. He sees the beauty in the world that I would otherwise miss. I will be back. I just need some t...

I just watched an episode of Murder She Wrote that had Robert Goulet in it. Not for long, though. I won't spoiler the episode for you, even if it is from the 80s (and I'm pretty sure it is), by stating or not stating that his character is or is not a murder victim. You'll just have to track it down and watch it for yourself.  If you're wondering how you can support me in bringing you songs and visits every day, the easiest thing you can do is tell your friends about the site. Tell anyone you know--particularly people who are isolated and enjoy music. Readers of adult fiction can also buy my books or check them out from your local library. Supporting my  AudioErotica  endeavour on  Patreon  would also help me hugely! I'm also an  Amazon Influencer,  so hopefully I can make a little pocket change when you buy stuff by clicking through  my affiliate links . But you don't HAVE to do any of that. I'm very happy to get a daily visit from you, so just ke...