More Rolling, Less Rocking

I have an appointment with yet another paint roller, so I’m just going to give you this little musical interlude.  Feel free to sing along.  I’ll be belting it out on top of a ladder with Mildred.

And no, I don’t know what is up with me and Neil Diamond this week.  I think I’ve listened to I Am, I Said no less than forty-seven times.  Don’t even get me started on Cracklin’ Rosie.


    1. I told Rocco that song made me cry. He listened to it and said, “I don’t get it.” Obviously he doesn’t have a tortured soul like we deep two.

  1. My husband is the most brilliant Neil Diamond cover artist ever. The improv is astounding.

    Also, tried to leave a comment yesterday but it didn’t work. First time I saw my baby boy, I thought “Paul.” But, we’d never even thought of the name, and he was already getting family names, so he’s not Paul.

    Not the greatest comment of all time. Sorry.

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