I was woken by a notification on the phone.
"We're playing Dolly Parton back-to-back this morning, What a loss."
It is a loss. A huge loss. And for somebody born in a one-room shack in Tennessee, she's done more for the world than almost anybody. Her Imagination Library distributed more than 300 million books to children, promoting a love of reading, is the stuff that makes me tear up. Her own father couldn't read or write - she didn't want anybody to not have the opportunity to learn just what reading and writing could bring you.
She was smart, funny and humble. She treated people as people.
The world has lost a good one.
I grew up with her. As a child of the seventies, she was everywhere - I remember her singing with Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris. I remember her films of the 80s and 90s. She's always been around.
The song of the day is my favourite song of hers - it came out when I was nine.
Anyway, it's been a sad day.
Making up for it, I'm teaching my cousin how to crochet. She's been staying with me for a few nights while she attends a course here in Melbourne.
She's a bit older than me. There's lots of interesting things about her - too much to mention here. She's also the wife of an Anglican priest.
Our grandmother always said that she wasn't cut out for crochet - however, she does knit very well.
Regardless, she's sitting here on the couch trying to master this crochet thing.
After an hour of trying to use more technical terms, I tried a more novel approach.
"Strangle it. Stab it. Strangle it again. Hang it. Tie it up. Tie it up. Start again."
Very technical.
She thinks it's the best way to remember the stitches.
It's just the recipe for granny squares.
Coming out of the mouth of a vicar's wife, it's quite funny.
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