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Operative theory...

There is an economic theory operative in corporate boardrooms, I'm convinced, that propounds the populace might spend our way out of this Covid pandemic, or, at the very least, that business should exploit it as a unique opportunity to maximize profits. Every day, I receive multiple emails urging me to buy before I die. Invariably, these exhortations include images of all the stuff marketing experts, assisted by their AI, have calculated that I am just dying (no pun intended) to max out my plastic in order to possess. I resist all such entreaties as best I can, on the off-chance I might survive long enough to have to pay it all back with exorbitant interest.   Henry's books . If you would like to deliver Drovers Gap blog directly to your email inbox, click here .

Even when...

Even when we could not

recall the exact occasion,

had forgotten the names,

and faces were grown dim

in our memory, so vague,

elusive, we remembered

the Song. Things happen

and pass in the moment;

music abides in the soul.

Henry's books.

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  1. Beautiful words, Henry. And I love the picture. My dad was a fiddler - this makes me think of him.

    1. Thanks for the encouraging comment. It made me smile. I'm grateful this resonates. It is my mother's music I remember. My father was suspicious of joy.

    2. I smiled at the description of your father - I've known a few like that. My mother was always singing around the house when we were young, then I did the same. It was a sad day when my daughter reached 13 and asked me if I'd stop singing, as it was getting annoying. My grandchildren enjoy my rendition of The Wild Rover, though :-)

    3. My mother was a singer on her last day, and I married a singer, who has been singing today, in church and out. As a young man, I had a huge crush on Jean Redpath, whom I only knew as a voice on the radio. Music has a long reach.


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