Gaga Plus

As an almost card-carrying queer I do have some music bought solely to maintain my queer status, which is why I have Kylie Minogue’s Fever on the shelf. The music is well produced dance music. Nothing with real personality & good as background sex music. One cd was enough for me. She is quite popular though & her live shows get raves.

Near by on the shelf is another card-carrying queer qualifier: Lady Gaga. I have stand-alones The Fame; Monster; The Remixes. Tucked away on various mp3 collections is Born This Way; Joanne. This is dance music of a different order (than Kylie) – stunning production & engineering, astonishing videos & politically challenging (something dance music isn’t supposed to be.) Plus I have her excellent duets with Tony Bennet. Also the soundtrack from ‘A Star is Born.’

Much like Madonna, Lady Gaga’s persona is very fluid always with a strong awareness of audience. Each collection has standout tracks, plus cds of remixes to spread the magic. Like many she gets more respect when she sticks to the dance music. Her more personal & more subdued Joanne was not as warmly received by the market. Then came the Academy Award. Lady Gaga can sing as she proved with Tony Bennett.

Joanne leads a mp3 collection that includes some old school dance by LTD: Hits, Classics (Boogie Wonderland); Bizarre Inc.: Energique (I’m Gonna Get You).  I remember these two groups from my disco days. I’m not sure if Bizarre Inc. was nothing more than a studio production. Some prog-soul by The Undisputed Truth: The Best of, Face To Face. This is in the Sly Stone vein of soul but more experimental – they do an amazing Ball of Confusion.

Too add some modern I have Solange: A Seat at the Table – which is also experimental soul/pop – the lp title should tip you off there is some political underpinnings 🙂  Frank Ocean is a rapper/soul singer who came out & I figured I should have at least something by him – Blonde: well produced but vocals get buried & after several listening I can’t name a song. Finally another by an out singer: Jordan Smith’s Something Beautiful – he has one of those angelic, slightly hurt voices that makes everything sound wistful & emotionally compelling.

from Isle de Nuit

“What do you mean – you’re leaving?”

“Jacques there’s nothing more I can do. The Montreal police don’t need me for their investigation. I have a job in Halifax to get back to. I can’t afford to be here.”

“Don’t you need to know what happened to Xavier?”

“Yeah sure but we’ve done what we can, right. Who to question? Xavier made sure his trail was cold before he left. He must have known that all along. He had it planned so he could make this clean get away. I hope it was worth what this must have cost him.” Mark picked up his suitcase. Not much heavier than when he had arrived. He’d decided not to bring much of the film crap with him. He’d been tempted to get rid of the tee he’d been wearing when he met V but after a few washing it wouldn’t hold any memory. 

“I’ll keep in touch.’ He reached out to shake hands with Jacques. 

Jacques pulled him into a bear hug. He squirmed remembering what had happened between them at the hotel the other day. At a glance he could tell that Jacques was remembering it too.

“I didn’t mind.”’ Jacques half smiled.

“I know.’ He avoided Jacques’ kiss. “But this isn’t what I need. Another long distance relationship.”

Jacques sighed. “I know.”

“Maybe under other circumstances.”

“Right! When you aren’t still pining for the invisible man. Now that’s truly a long distance relationship.”

“I will keep in touch though. If you ever want to come to Halifax I have a spare room you can use.”


Thursday 23 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

March 5 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Buddies and Bad Times Theatre

April 3 – Hot Damn! It’s Queer Slam – Season 6 finales Buddies and Bad Times Theatre


Richard III – Stratford Festival

June  – Capturing Fire 2020 – Washington D.C. 


All’s Well That Ends Well – Stratford Festival

Hey! Or you can give me $$$ to defray blog fees & buy coffee in Washington at 2020’s – sweet, eh?

Land of 1000 Dances 

Here I have a more recent addition filed under ‘c’ for Don Covey. It’s one of my favourite types of mp3 compilations that sprawls over genres, decades & performers. It starts with Helen Merrill: a fine well-produced nightclub singer from the 50’s. She covers standards  such as The Masquerade Is Over. This is high-class easy listening. The cd ends with a recent iteration of this style with the Tony Bennett/Lady Gaga ’s Cheek To Cheek. 08.Fabric01In between I have Chris Kenner’s lp: Land of 1,000 Dances – Cannibal and The Headhunters lp Land of 1000 Dances. The title song was a hit for both groups & the lps are sweet, sort of rockabilly, Beach Boys garage band fun. This is how I sometimes find new old music – hunting down a song that I loved as a kid. I remember that title song so clearly but I don’t know whose version I am remembering. 08.Fabric02My Tumblr feed includes posts of lps covers which is how I found Jon & Robin: a mild version of Sonny & Cher: harmless hippy romantics. Another feed introduced me to Don Covay: a nice rocking tenor who had some regional hits (a national hit with Pony Time) & sweet falsetto.08.Fabric031000 Dances made me long for The Gentrys Keep On Dancing which I found as a single & also did discover their self titlde lp of sunny country tinged pop. Here for contrast is Elephants Memory’s Psychedelic Essentials. They appear in the film Midnight Cowboy & on that soundtrack. I did a search this is their only lp which lives up to the title & was well worth finding it.08.Fabric04While I was this on psychedelic bend I added After The Satellite Sings a 1995 release by Bill Nelson – best known, if at all, for his work with BeBop Deluxe. An amazing guitarist, studio engineer, who has maintained a steady career for decades. Similar to David Bowie but with less pr & usually more complex music.



‘Follow me.’ the El’r Ft’hr headed away from the door.

G’th did as he was bid. He had no idea what to expect when he had scaled the walls of the Gl’nth Monastery. No one in his memory had attempted such a thing. They would wait at the either of the shuttered gates for an opportunity to make their pleas or to bring their offerings. Rarely did they glimpse the Br’tern.

The offerings were often ignored. When the Br’tern wanted something or someone they would appear in the dead of night and take what they wanted. No one questioned this. This was the way it was and had been.

No one questioned as it was the Br’tern who produced the sustenance of their lives – the falfa that grew in such abundance within the walls of Gl’nth.

The El’r Ft’hr lead G’th towards the ruins at one end of the enclosure. G’th found the man to be unshaped, unformed, hasty and fearful. He knew his arrival would cause some consternation but all he wanted was what was promised. The reward for the surrender of his ward. The one he knew was now called Brin.

Brin! No name for a man to have. A full word that was foreign in his tongue.

That had been Brin at the window. He was sure of it. No one else would utter his name. But he knew a meeting between them was not to be nor was it what he sought. He wanted his reward. He had waited patiently for it. Sent in his reminder year after year till he knew this was the year for it to be granted.

This year. Brin was now a man that he saw in his brief glimpse. The hairlessness of the El’r Ft’hr  filled him with a curious awe. How did one do that? Shave it off. The thick hair that covered his arms and chest was his pride. How could any man live without such pride, without such warmth?

The air here smelled different too. The fragrant falfa was powerful but there something else in it. No it was something not in it. There was none of the dense moist miasma of  the dank village air. This was clean air. True sunshine played around him.


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#JoanBaez to #LadyGaga

One might think I was a Joan Baez fan but the number of her recordings I have. On one mp3 collection I have Baez & Farewell, Angelina; along with with Merrilee Rush: Angel of the Morning; Sandy Posey: The Very Best Of; Laura Nyro: First Songs; Jackie DeShannon: Laurel Canyon; Streisand: ButteryFly; Laurie Anderson: Big Science.

On another I have Baptism, Any Day Now; along with Lady Gaga: Born This Way; Robyn & Röyksopp; Sinead O’Connor: I’m Not Bossy; Laura Nyro: Reimagined. Plus a stand alone: Day After Tomorrow. Both mp3 collections have either a historic context or span.

shed03 shed art

I’ve always found Joan’s voice to be pure & strong but unemotional. The early folk lps sounded more like folklorist work than expressive. Baptism is one of the finest anti-war lps I’ve heard; Any Day is her take on various Dylan songs; Day After is from 2008 & her pipes are still strong.

In the 60’s many people dismissed her as riding Dylan’s coat tails to fame, whereas by the time she met him she was already a major folk figure & boosted his career in fact. I read Richard Farina’s books & discovered she was rich from her music & sharing her bounty in very generous ways.

shed02 shed art

Rush has a fine pop voice & does lots of covers of great 60’s pop stuff but never survived her one big hit. Posey: another fine, more country, voice who sang two of the most non-PC songs every recorded: A Single Girl, Born A Woman – youtube them. DeShannon another sweet sixties voice lost to that one big hit. Streisand has one of those amazing voices, more emotional than Baez. ButterFly is a pop, as opposed to show tune, lp – she does Bowie! Laurie Anderson: I remember how wowed the world was by this first lp of her’s – holds up still & made a nice end to this cd: from Baez to Anderson.

shed01 shed art

The other cd gets more modern quickly with Lady Gaga – propulsive dance pop with great pipes. Robyn – great voice but, like Baez, emotionally distant. Sinead returns with this new recording which is fine if undistinguished. Her voice is too buried in the mix for me & often double-tracked – lacks the emotional punch of her debut.

Finally Laura Nyro – more about her when I get to the n’s – but this woman is a song-writing goddess with an amazing voice.



Once the merger was complete Phipps knew his revenge would also be complete.

“Miss Jackson, would you bring in in the Chryslater Report please.” He spoke into the intercom.

“It’s on your desk already.” Came the reply.

Oh Christ! So it was. With all his attention so focused on his objective he was beginning to miss the little things. If that continued this whole scheme was doomed to failure. It wouldn’t fail, he knew that. But if he wasn’t on top of every tiny little detail it wouldn’t be as grand a failure as he wanted it to be.

He looked down at his lap top and scrolled through the last two acquisitions that would start the ball rolling. He sent a buy command for the first and a sell command to the second. He could almost feel the rumble in his finger tips as they darted over the keyboard.

Miss Jackson appeared at the door at that very moment.

“Yes, Miss Jackson?”

‘There’s a George Grant to see you sir.’

“Ah, yes. Send him in.”

“But you said …”

“I know what I said but I can change my mind can’t I.”

George Grant entered the room.

“Thank you for seeing me sir.  I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for some time. It is a matter of the utmost urgency.”

“Really. I’m sorry. Please sit down.”

A beeper went on off in George’s suit coat pocket.

“Answer it. Please. I can wait.” Phipps sat smug behind his desk.

George answered the call. He turned his back and walked to one of the corners. He put the cell phone back in his pocket as he turned around.

“I see, Mr Phipps that my visit has been a waste of my time.”


‘The deal has been done. I hope you are satisfied.”

“I’m always satisfied young man. Rarely am I disappointed. Though in matter such as this, timing is of the essence. Don’t you think. One has to make them wait just the right length of time to marinate in their own little plots fears and worries and then when it reaches the right point – put an end to their misery.”

“Very eloquently put. Though I certainly trust you haven’t started something you can’t finish.”

“It is finished now though isn’t it? Isn’t that what your little insider pals were telling you just now on the telephone?”

“Well, sir, no. They were telling me that they had successfully diverted your lap top to eBay. You just bought 4000 Pokemon key chains and not the last 4000 shares of my company.”

reddoor red door

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Epiphany at Lake Pinebow

This is the Feast of Epiphany – the day when the Magi dropped off their gifts – that twelfth day with all the drummers drumming – or something like that. Luckily, although I don’t ever get those drummers, I do get many small realizations, discoveries, that bring change or new pleasures into my life. 2013 had many of those.

So welcome to Music Monday in which I’ll rattle on about ond & new music I like. Classical jazz pop electronica blues. So what if there are thousands of music blog sout there already.

knit02well wrapped in the east end

I found out that I still do like disposable bouncy pop music by bands you never hear from again – who remembers Wheatus (Teenage Dirt Bag) or Metro Station (Shake It) – this year it’s Capital Cities with their fun retro-sound. They do a version of Holiday that great. Lady Gaga sounds stale in comparison.

knit01well wrapped on the Danforth

I’ve picked up new or old music from many sources. Reading Pete Townsend’s bio set me on a hunt, as did a couple of terrific documentaries. The Secret Disco Revolution (which supports my theory that disco was more transgressive & revolutionary than punk or even 60’s protest music) led me to Manu Dibango – Soul Makosso. And a great book Hot Stuff: Disco & the Remaking of American Culture by Alice Echols which in turn led me to more music: Honey Cone anyone (when I lost you I found myself).

knit03well unwrapped on the Danforth

Another documentary was Jingle Bell Rocks! A Christmas music fanatic searches for rare recordings & interviews the performers, if still alive. I had to have Christmas in Vietnam (on the Rojek Story collection); also Jessie Mae Hemphill – a great Mississippi blues performer. Clarence Carter’s Back Door Santa – who could ask for more.

So my music went from modern and way way back. Thanks to those who gave me iTunes cards, they sure came in handy. Musical epiphany – the best kind.



Lake Pinebow 2

has anyone seen Brad?

he was here last night

remember how he screamed

when we told tales

around the campfire

last night

has anyone seen Brad

he shouted with fear and delight

said he wouldn’t be able to sleep without a light

has anyone seen him

I saw him go down to the lake

he took a canoe

rowed into the mist

now Jeff are you sure that’s what you saw

because all the canoes are there now

not one is missing’s

has anyone seen Brad

he has a talent for hiding

that’s for sure

he went missing last week

for two whole days

till we found him then

sleeping in the crook of an oak tree

as tidy and warm

as could be

up so high in the whispering happy tree

out near Pine Point

perhaps we should look

for him there

he could be pulling another of his stunts

just to teach us a lesson

to make sure we don’t scare with such tales

as you told last night

I saw him go to the smoke shed

he wanted a sausage 

he felt so hungry and weak

he needed a snack before he went to bed

now Olaf that can’t be so

we don’t use the smoke shed

for the summer

that’s for the fall

as you well know

or in the spring

when we run the maple syrup off

perhaps he’s gone there

looking for what is left 

there’s always some dribs and drabs

of that sweet sugar to be found

if you look hard enough

if you scrape under the ground

you don’t say

that’s news to the counsellors and I

so lets go to the smoke shed

perhaps we’ll find what

we need to find there

as they approached

they saw a strange trail


small and dainty

with a smudge mark deep and long

between them

like a long sharp tail

or  a long sharp tooth

we can’t go in there

the boys shouted as one

we can’t go in there

the Denizen is there

that’s what’s happened to Brad

the Denizen has gotten him

eaten him up

smoked with maple syrup

we know

we can tell

you warned us about the foot prints

and the smell of death is in the air

they stood silent

in a circle around the smoke shed

none willing to to take  step forward

the door swung a little in the breeze

they all jumped back

a bell rang

six rapid clangs

ah there breakfast ready boys

we’ll leave this till later

Brad is bound to show up

he’s hoping to give us

another merry chase

another merry chase

which we won’t give into

as a whole

they rushed to the mess hall

hot steaming plates of food were ready

rice crispy squares

scrambled eggs

crisp bacon

pan cakes

French toast

home made sausages

corn flakes

poached eggs

Belgian waffles

fresh milk

yellow butter

and ladles

of maple syrup

syrup to wash everything down

to make the boys

fat and pump and round

as plump and fat and round as Brad

100_0229before coffee

#NaNoWriMo blasting past 50000


Passed the NaNo 50000 target by November 22. Averaged over 2200 words a day to do that. I hit my stride by the end of week two. I did push harder this year by making sure there were no under 2000 days that first week then poured it on. Final total for this year 53000.


The one thing I can say helped is music. Old. New. Things I didn’t expect got my fingers moving to have my characters do things I didn’t expect. Another blogger (hi Cassidy ) included what music they were using in their blogs posts, but mine would be too repetitious. I found myself going back to the same lps hen I got stuck. Prime being Archie Bell and The Drells: Tighten Up. One I never could have predicted. I relied on Question Mark & the Mysterians, Count Five, Coltrane & Mozart. I did add some brand new things as I went along: The Red Army Chorus; Gaga’s ArtPop, Capital Cities.


The sessions at the Red Rocket were productive for me, but, sadly, no one showed up after the first Friday, so I probably won’t be doing that next year. Maybe the Rocket was too busy or I was too focused on NaNo to make it more of a social event.


I can’t say conclusively if the binaural beats and inductions helped or not but I was more focused this year so I won’t dismiss them either. I’ll be happy to give them a rest though & get back to my usual iPod playlists. The peppermint therapy – again who knows, but I sure smelled good. Using the body wash before sitting down to write was a cleansing ritual that put my subconscious in the right frame for productivity, a good thing.

The various twitter feeds for NaNo were more distracting that inspiring so will give them a miss next year. Pep talks were diverting but were aimed more at first year NaNo-ers. Will I do NaNo next year? For sure. I already have an idea work on.

But first I have to be ready for  Festive Trash at Cabaret Noir.


November 1-30 – participating – NaNoWriMo


November 28 – Thursday – attending – The Beautiful & The Damned


December 8 – Sunday – Featuring – Festive Trash at Cabaret Noir

Dec 15 – Sunday – attending – The Bazaar Bizarre: Frost Bite 2013

June 6-8, 2014 – attending – Bloody Words


(continuation of scene posted friday)

Lillian didn’t trust his aspect of Steven. She instinctively knew the face he had shown her the first few times they had met was the real one. He had the quick mind and language of a politician. The sort her father taught her who would find what it took to appear he was being honest, when in fact he was waiting merely to get what he wanted. Whether that was your vote, your money or … she shuddered to think of giving her heart to him.

“Thank you, Mr. O’Dowell. Do you think there’ll be a break soon in this dead-lock between the miners and The BritCanada Coal Company?”

“No.The BritCanada Coal Company’s Foxing won’t even talk with the minister of labour. As far as they’re concerned there is nothing to discuss. Either miners accept their terms or find work else where. Why he even refused to discuss matters with the Federal Minster of Labour. Told the Prime Minister’s office, that as far as he was concerned the miners weren’t as bad off as they claimed. It was all just a play for public sympathy. Something those Bolshi agitators have conspired to do in their plot to take down the nation.”

“Take down the nation? These men? These people?”

“Sounds ludicrous but when Foxing wants to shut the government up that’s all he has to say. That and his bottom line.”

“Is there a solution?”

“Not one that’ll undo the damage done, I’m afraid. These miners don’t trust the government or even their union anymore. Can’t say as I blame them. Change is in the air though. Elections coming up. I’m pretty sure Armstrong won’t get back in.”

Lillian wasn’t interested in the political situation. She only kept this conversation going to keep Steven at arms length. As much as she felt pity for the miners she only wanted to find some way to get herself out of where she was, off this God-forsaken island and back to civilization.

“Thank you for walking me home Mr. O’Dowell.” They had come to the front walk of the O’Dowell home. “Thank you, also for taking me in when you did.”

“I was grateful that we had a way to atone to you for my ungentlemanly behaviour when we first met Miss McTavish. I know now that I was mistaken about the nature of your character. Even if what James Dunham said was true he was sorely mistaken about you.”

“Thank you again Mr. O’Dowell.” She went into the house and up to her room. As much as she had been resisting it, she was being to feel at home in New Castleton. The local’s had never failed to extend a hand of welcome to her, even though it was not always returned. She hadn’t expected to forge any bonds with with anyone while she was here because she wanted to believe she was only here temporarily.

If she could find a way to leave she would without a moment of regret. She couldn’t think of a soul she would miss or who she expected would miss her either.

She looked at herself in the mirror. Other than her hands she had maintained her looks. Perhaps she had been mistaken with Birk, perhaps she was better off trying for a man whom she knew found her attractive. Steven had made no secret of that, he had even apologized for expressing his interest.

He wasn’t unattractive and his glad-hand manners weren’t that disagreeable. Her mother had told her that everyman needs a woman to make man out of him. Steven certainly had potential and what he father might call ‘good prospects.’

She loosened her hair and let it down. The evening sun behind her made it look like a small blaze in the mirror. It was slightly snarled from being coiled in a braid for the day. She rarely wore it down outside of her room. She brushed it slowly. The curl would need her hot iron to flatten out but the curl suited her. She put a small dab of pomade in her hands and with her fingers brushed it through the curls. She shook it out. The pale green shawl would be ideal.

She washed her hands, put the shawl around her shoulders and made sure her hair lay on it perfectly. She went down to the living-room. Steven and Clara were sitting opposite each other deep in a conversation which ended when she came into the room.

“Lillian!” Clara smiled. “Your hair! I don’t think I’ve ever seen it in it’s full glory.”

“I’ve always found it best to keep it protected, covered when I’m working in the kitchen or the garden or out of the house.” she glanced at Steven to see his reaction.

“A shame to hide it.” Steven’s eyes shone with appreciation.

“Thank you.” Why had she ever considered marrying one of the miners? That would only have discomforted her uncle for a short time but leave her anchored here in this miserable place forever. Steven travelled to Halifax, sometimes to Montreal and even to Boston.

“You’ve spend a pleasant day Lillian?’ Clara asked.

“In some ways. One of the miner’s children I’ve been teaching died.”

“It’s always sad when a child dies.” Clara shook her head.

“Yes. Sadder is how accustomed to it the families have become.” Lillian let her head droop a little so her hair would fall off her shoulders. Pushing it back she straighten up. “I don’t think I could ever bear to lose a child.”

She caught Steven’s eye and held it for a moment, then looked away as if shy. Her heart was racing.

“Hopefully you never will.” Clara stood and stepped between them.

Lillian stood and went to the door of the living room. She quickly coiled her hair, took a couple of hair pins out her pocket and pinned it up. “I’ll go and see if Aileen needs any help in the kitchen.”

She went part way down the passage to the kitchen and leaned against the wall. Her spirits soared. She was sure now that if she had found the solution to everything.

Steven came into the foyer. He saw her leaning against the wall.

“Miss McTavish!”

“Oh, Mr O’Dowell!” She leaned into his shoulder crying. “It has been a most difficult day. Most difficult. I don’t think I could have faced these past few weeks without the kindness you and your sister have shown me.”

The first thing she would have to do is have him stop wearing that over-powering bay rum scent he was so fond of.


that after NaNoWriMo feeling

Stretching for the #NaNoWriMo Dash

Making the initial little steps in getting in NaNo shape – first by doing short writing sprints in the morning – ten min max – spewing out snippets of scenes that may show up as part of the my NaNo novel start – one of the secrets to NaNo success for me has been not to worry about writing a finished work – there’s always next year to finish it 🙂 focusing on word count lets me shut down part of the editorial brain to just get the quantity out there – out of quantity comes quality. So I’m doing improv with my characters to get used to them and how they talk & act –

never know where the steps we take will lead us

Speaking of improv I took the first of the Make-a-Scene classes Wednesday night at The Centre of Gravity Circus Training Studios. We meet up at The Side Show Cafe at 7:30. There are 11 of us in the class plus Allan Turner our our fearless leader. He explained the intent of the workshop – 4 weeks of improv & theory; then 4 weeks of rehearsals leading up to a show (t.b.a).

Unlike the writing workshops I’ve taken, this one has an even mix of men and women. Some bring experience, some open minds and willingness – the first 30 min are spent in the Cafe chatting & getting acquainted – I had an excellent butter tart (for energy) – but found the music a bit too loud for conversation.

At 8 we went up to Studio G – via the outside fire escape – essentially a large, high-ceiling space with a mirror. Some low benches to sit on. Allan talked about the theory of play and where ideas come from. We did several group improv games – all physical with one that involved some language: the rant choir – each of us was assigned a random topic to talk/rant about when pointed to by Allan as conductor – hand signals for more intensity, quiet – one at a time or three or four at the same time.

My random topic was avant-garde fashion – about which I said “I was walking along Queen West the other day and came across a Lady GaGa pop-up store. She is selling as high fashion surgical bandages – I was able to buy this knee brace ( I was actually wearing one) allowing me to be cutting edge stylish and injured at the same time.” I had more but that’s all I got called on to say.

porch futurism

Having both sides of the brain activated by this workshop will get me in top form for the NaNoWriMo dash in November.

[September 2020 – The Centre of Gravity is no longer at this location at Gerrard/Greenwood, same for Side Show Cafe]

writing sample
writing sample

one of my morning NaNo stretches [plot points revealed before now]

Jim and Birk stood at the rear of the men. MacKlusky was pounding on the front door of the company store. Two other men had gone around to the back to make sure Seldon [the store’s manager] didn’t slip away.

“He ain’ going anywhere.” Birk muttered. “Too much stuff inside. He’d never step away from a profit.”

“Open up Seldon. Man, we know you’re in there.” MacKlusky shouted. “We don’t want to harm you. We know it ain’ your fault wha’s goin’ on [miners are on  strike] but we have families to feed too you know.”

A window on the second floor opened. It was to the left of the front door. A woman’s head stuck out. “Dan’l t’ain’ here.”

It was his wife.

“He’s gone up to the big office. He was sent fer at supper time. He ain here.”

“Then let us in mussus.” MacKlusky stepped back. “We means no harm to you and yours.”

“I canna let you in. It’d be the end of me. He dinna want this to happen. But he’s got no choice He’s sorry he ever let his brother talk him inta runnin’ the cump store. Swore it was easy money. But it isn’t. It isn’t. We has to pay for everything just like you do. Even if it don’ get bought and goes bad we still has to pay for it.”

Birk had never heard Mrs. Seldon talk for so long.

you're no frond of mine so get out of here
you’re no frond of mine, so get out of here