Snow & A Tattoo

Don't worry, not mine, my friend Skully got a tattoo for her birthday. I'm not a tattoo girl. It was barely snowing when I got home from knitting and watching Skully get her tattoo last night and everything was covered with snow when I opened the curtains this morning. Isn't it pretty? It didn't last though, by the time I left work at 4 o'clock and went to feed Porter and let her out to potty. We played with the squeaky ball for about 40 minutes running up and down the yard. I'm surprised that I can still run, but I can. Amazing what an old broad can do with a bit of focus. Today at work the computer took over 10 minutes for Word to log on, then when I typed a word it took nearly 3 minutes for it to appear. I gave up, turned the #%$*& thing off, booted it back up, about half a dozen times. It started to work around five to four. Of course. I was going to post but it would have taken all day to type a sentence. Gah.

February 17--Japanese, Theater Coat. Suni like to work in the bamboo groves with Mr. Lo. The canes were thin and supple, the color of the finest jade, and the long, thin leaves whispered in the breezes. If the air was very still she could hear the stretch of the bamboo as it grew. She rememvered the pains in her legs one summer as she grew fast. The pain made her cry in her sleep. She would wake in the dark sure that a beast was gnawing at her legs. Her mother would come in and lie down beside her, stroking her hair and telling her that these growing pains meant that she would grow tall and beautiful. Today the wind blew strong so that the leaves sounded like hands clapping. She turned her back to the wind and dug her cultivator into the soft earth so that the bamboo could breathe.

Now I'm hungry and there's some yummy leftover spinach lasagna calling my name. Sayonara.
--Barbara

Not the Brightest Fish in the School

I'm afraid that Dragon, while handsome, isn't very smart. It has seemed to me that he really wasn't eating the food I gave him. At first I had some wormy looking things that floated and neither of us ever saw him swim to the surface and eat it, so I went back to PetSmart to find a different food. That time I consulted with one of the clerks and bought a pellet-type food. He didn't seem to eat that either. He doesn't seem to eat the plant I put in there either. I was getting worried that he'd starve to death. The other night when I changed his water (pee-yew) I sprinkled a few of the worms on the shallow water I put him in so I can clean his bowl/vase. He ate it! All of it. So when I put him back into the big bowl I put in some more. He ate that too, and kept looking for more. Since I hadn't ever seen him eat since I'd bought him way back in January, I figured he was hungry. I've been feeding him 2 or 3 times a day since and he's gobbling it up. Thank goodness he's gotten over his anorexia--and figured out that there's food in that bowl after all. Well, since I've had a few chiropractic adjustments I'm figuring that I've got "mouse elbow & shoulder" on my right side and maybe carpel tunnel on my left. I promised my friend Lala yesterday that I'd wear my wrist braces in the day too, not just when I sleep, so maybe that'll help until I see the nerve doc on Tuesday when he can tell me what I can do about it. I hate the numbness and tingling in my hands, especially the left one. I can barely hook my bra and put in an earring in that lobe. Sucks to get old.

February 16--Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, The Spanish Walk. No matter how hard she watched or how many times she slipped into the tent Giselle couldn't figure out how Max made Rogelio prance like that. The music would play and Rogelio would begin to move his forelegs up and out. Max sat like a statue on his back and Ro would move. Sometimes it would be wrong and Max would curse himself or old Benito would call out in Spanish, then they'd restart the music and begin again. Giselle hid under the bleachers to watch. She knew there was no way she could ever ride like that. There was no way the daughter of a clown and a high flier would ever get to learn to ride a horse in the ring. You just couldn't change fate that way. Her fate was to fly.

It's Friday. I have to work. I even have to work tomorrow. And next week I only have Sunday and Tuesday off. I'm so overworked. Poor me. *sigh* I'll be all right, don't you worry about me. I'm strong. I can make it. *sigh*
--Barbara

A Foggy Day in London Town...

Whenever a song comes to mind for a post title I always wish I had a font that's a ribbon of lines with a musical staff and notes so all of you (who are younger than me) get it--and it looks like a song. But I don't. So I can't. You'll just have to imagine me sitting here singing. In my head. In your head. Okay, I'll stop. Cookie and I went to the beer & food pairing dinner at Titletown last night where they paired beer with chocolate. A tall order in my estimation, but they managed. We had cocoa & espresso rubbed beef satay with a peppery sweet and sour sauce to dip it in, then cocoa & basil fettuccine carbonara, followed by chicken cutlets with cocoa & raspberry mole sauce and quinoa croquette, broccoli rabe and scrawny carrots, and finally cocoa & white chocolate mousse with fudge on the bottom, a strawberry and a little cookie on top. We had a variety of beers, one with each course, even dessert. DS says that the trick is to have the beer (or wine, for that matter) slightly sweeter than the food. They served us an oatmeal stout that was amazing with the mousse, the chocolate brought out the caramel flavor in the beer. We sat next to JZ, HZ, and their friends so there was lively conversation to go along with our yummy grub. It was a fun evening, and a steal at $30/person. I have to tell you, when DS & DIL1 got home from work last Friday and saw my tracks in their snowy yard their first thought was "crop circles," then they thought someone had been dragging something like a tray around, finally they figured it out--snowshoes! Too much fun.

February 15--Edward Hopper, The Lighthouse at Two Lights. It was a long hot climb up to the lighthouse. It looked easy and gradual but once you got started the slope seemed to stretch out and up. You had to pull yourself up on the long grasses in places. Toby and Nat had grown up on the mainland in Bayfield but on summer afternoons they'd row across to AnaMaria Island to deliver Toby's mom's bacon buns to Mason's Store and get ignored by the summer kids who played tennis all summer and sailed around the island like white butterflies. They kept a couple of old 3-speed Huffy bikes chained to a tree behind the store. Mrs. Mason gave them sandwiches-bologna on rye with her homemade mustard pickles, a couple oranges or bananas, and two cans of no-name soda in a brown paper sack. They'd strap the bag into Nat's handlebar basket and off they'd ride across the waist of the island to the windward beaches to look for driftwood they could sell to Angus Finchley. Angus carved faces in the wood that the tourists fell all over themselves to buy.

I'm off to the chiro before work to get my bones rearranged and a few knots rubbed out of my neck. Later, dudes & dudettes!
--Barbara

See? I Was Right--But I Didn't Bake

Durwood went to the grocery yesterday and bought 2 gorgeous NY Strip steaks that I cooked to perfection on the grill. He sauteed some mushrooms, baked an acorn squash, and steamed that asparagus. After our feast (saving half of our steaks to have another time but I ate all my mushrooms) we had clementines. I got caught up in reading a library book on my new Kindle Fire and didn't bake. Besides we don't really need to eat something big and chocolaty, although I was thinking I should have gotten two of those giant chocolate-dipped strawberries at Copps for us--or even one. (They were big, only one would fit in the palm of my hand.) But we survived without chocolate. He had 2 Chips Ahoy and I had my semi-frozen yogurt and 3 Newton Thins. (Have you tried those? They're thin, crispy cookies in 4 flavors. My fave's cranberry & citrus. Yum.) I'm really liking my Kindle. I signed up for Pixel of Ink (thanks, Cookie!) and Ereader.com and get daily Facebook posts with a few free books to download a day. They're not NY Times bestsellers but I've liked the ones I've read, and am thinking I might knuckle down and rewrite my manuscripts and think about publishing them online. Maybe. If I can ever recapture my writing mojo. Bah.

February 14--Augustus Saint-Gaudens, Diana. "You're going as what?" Martha looked at her sister like she'd grown a second head. "Diana, my namesake, you know," Di flung her arms out, "the Goddess of the Hunt." She mimed shooting an arrow with the bow in her hand. "The one I like at the Met where she's standing on one leg on an orb." Martha nodded. "But the statue's naked, Di. You know she's naked. You're not going to the party naked." She wrung her hands. "Are you?" Di shook her head. She opened her bottom dresser drawer and drew out a small flat box. "I'm wearing this." She drew out what looked like Peter Pan's disconnected shadow from the movie. "I found it in a dance shop." She held up what looked like golden skin by the shoulders. "See, Mart? It's a body suit in the perfect color. I'll pull my hair up and spray it gold. I found some gold makeup for my face and hands. It'll be great." She smiled at her sister who looked anything but convinced. "I'll have to shave my pubes so I don't look all bushy down there. You can help... oh, Mart, don't cry."

What a crap day it is. All dreary, kinda foggy, and there's a crow cawing in the tree next door. If Ichabod Crane rides by, I'm outta here. Survive the day. Oh, I just remembered that Cookie and I are going to a beer & food pairing dinner. Beer and chocolate. I do believe that things are looking up. Hasta la vista, babies.
--Barbara

Happy Valentine's Day!

There was a mushy card at my place at the table when I got up this morning. It was lovely and touching and sweet. We don't usually do gifts since we've been Valentine's so long there's not much left to gift each other. I'm guessing there'll be something especially yummy for supper since we got some fresh asparagus the other day. Mmm, maybe I'll bake a little something we can share for dessert. Something chocolaty. We'll see. Skully and I walked in the mall this morning since we're not sure of the condition of any of the trails. Last week it was icy and she slipped a couple times, so walking indoors was a better choice. I showed her the quilt blocks I made last weekend and she approved of them, even the backs. I feel all proud. She's been quilting for ages so she knows all the tricks and tips. It's good to have a friend who knows stuff. I've got a chiropractor appointment later to get my bones rearranged, hoping that it'll help alleviate the numbness in my arms and fingers. Next week I'm going to have some sort of test to see if I have carpal tunnel and what to do if I do--or don't. (I don't think I can study for this test.) Durwood just called down the hall to say that the History Channel's running a special on the history of the bra. Excellent Valentine's Day programming choice. (I don't think he's watching.) I need to go to get my nails done today too. They're so long that 90% of the time I type a number when I hit a key on the top row. Annoying. (He is watching the bra show. There's either scantily clad women or nothing else on.) I stopped at the grocery on my way home from walking and the man ahead of me in line checked out, took two steps, and abandoned his cart in the middle of the wide aisle. Really?!?!? I did my good deed for the day and put it away. Honestly, some people's kids...

February 13--William Morris, Pink and Rose Wallpaper. Julianne dreaded starting work in the dining room. When she and Matt talked about buying the old house she had envisioned dark gleaming woodwork and elegantly appointed rooms, not months of dust and stripping acres of wallpaper. They had fallen in love with the house and property the first time they saw it. It had such potential, the gardens needed trimming and weeding, the house needed cleaning and a bit of sprucing up. They negotiated a lower price, signed on the dotted line too many times to count, and it was theirs. They didn't have nearly enough furniture and what they did have seemed to huddle together in the spacious rooms with their soaring ceilings. Matt said, "We're young, we'll accumulate things, everyone does." Julianne and her sister scrubbed floors and woodwork. They cleaned bathrooms and washed windows. One afternoon the girls were finishing washing the windows in the front parlor when Julianne scratched up a flap of the hideous psychedelic wallpaper and peeked under it. She was surprised to see beautiful, old floral paper in pink and green behind it ugly stuff. She pulled harder and a large strip of the top wallpaper pulled away leaving the paper below it looking fresh and new.

I had a perfect name in mind for the sister last night but didn't write it down. D'you think I can remember it? No. I'm putting a picture of me and my valentine on here today so you can see how cute he is. Have a loving (and chocolaty) day!
--Barbara

Back To The Grind

The only redeeming feature of going to work today is that it's payday. It seems like such a bother to have to be there ON TIME and nicely dressed. Not that I'm a slob but I have to make sure I stay warm enough so I pile on thicker clothes. A good thing is that every day since I started weaning off Paxil (last Wednesday) my weight has crept down and I haven't changed my habits hardly at all. The thing that galls me is that a tiny shift in caloric intake (I know it isn't stylish to count calories anymore so sue me) or PointsPlus (better?) makes a shift in my weight. I feel like I'm balanced on some sort of pinnacle and I could go either way--and I usually go the wrong way. But I eat lots of healthy food and Durwood doesn't mind making it so it's all good. I'm determined to start really getting up when the alarm goes off so I can exercise before I have to get ready for the day. Really, I am. I know Durwood doesn't believe me but really I am. Cross my heart. I like to complain, okay I admit it, I LOVE to complain but overall I'm pretty happy with myself and my life. Are you?

February 12--Alexander Gardner, Abe Lincoln. When he was a boy he yearned to read long into the night but candles were too expensive so people like him rose and slept with the sun. Think about that. In winter the sun sets before five o'clock. I can see him folded nearly in half to read by firelight. So great was his need to learn that he walked miles to school. Do you think he had shoes? Lord, I hope so. I can't imagine walking in an Illinois winter in bad shoes or no shoes.

And that's where that ramble mercifully ends. I'm off to keep the world safe from SCUBA diving. Have a day!
--Barbara

Staying in Touch

In the past 24 hours I have spoken to most of the people I love best. There's Durwood, of course, my roomie and personal chef. DS called for advice on how to sew grain bags together to make a brewfest table cover. I called Aunt B, left a message, and she called back. We chattered away for half an hour or so not really saying much of import, just catching up on each others' lives. I look at that as one long "I love you" with the added bonus of getting to brag (even more) about my family. This morning I talked to both my brothers, DD, and DIL1. The only one I missed is DIL2 and she's got a cold so I thought I'd let her nap this afternoon while DD's at work. (Oh, by the way, it's almost 4:30 PM. Me and the Old Guy went to Sam's and Walmart, then I went to JoAnn, so don't believe the posting time.) Next I want to whip up some curried cauliflower chicken soup for next week's lunches and maybe some hummus to have for lunch too. I bought a cucumber and some Roma tomatoes to slice and take along to put on my garlic Melba rounds with a schmear of hummus and my soup. Doesn't that sound good? I think so. Right now Durwood's in the kitchen leaned back in his chair snoring away. That man is a sleeping savant. He can nap anywhere anytime.

February 12--Alexander Gardner, Abraham Lincoln. He looked tired, Alex thought. No wonder with the job he had but the tall man was gracious and cooperative as he got the vignette set up for the photo session. Alex wanted a spare setting, no swags or draperies, no potted ferns or peacock feathers, Just a plain wall, a muted carpet, a chair and a table. Simple, like the man. Lincoln was taller and thinner than he'd thought. Stringy almost but with the kind of wiry strength that convinced Alex that he would work hard and achieve his goals.

Happy birthday, Abe! Time to make soup.
--Barbara