Sunday, September 2, 2012

Go Fly A Kite...

no one has told me to do that, not lately at least, but I'm doing it anyway.  To.  Day.  There's a kite festival in Two Rivers and I'm going.  I got my kite out of the "down under" storage in the back end of Beverly, put sunscreen and my Yellowstone boonie hat into my backpack, dug the bug spray out of my knitting bag (hey, I might have needed it at the Suds & Cinemas at Titletown this summer), and I'm ready.  Me and Beverly will be picking up Skully in a couple hours and tootling off to sit in the sand with a string in my hand.  You can bet I'll be taking lots of pictures and I'll share.  I had an outstanding birthday yesterday.  Durwood went off to brunch with his Census 2000 cronies while I stayed here (in the quiet) playing with the Yellowstone trip Smilebox and generally goofing off.  Durwood's brother, RJ, called to fete me (isn't that a goofy word? that's why I used it--fate, fett--who knows how to say it, I don't, I waffle back and forth with abandon), and I walked up to the bank to get cash money for my starving wallet.  (hey, they just did a story about the Black Keys on CBS Sunday Morning... do you like them?  do I?  I might have to go to Walmart and get a CD on my way out of town... or maybe iTunes... they look like such nice boys & they're good to their parents... I think I like them, they're noisy and dorky looking)  Yesterday after lunch I advised Durwood about hot water bath processing his first batch of tomato soup.  It's yummy; I can't wait to eat it.  Heh, heh, my tastes have changed so I'm willing to eat those tomato things now too, so he can't hog them all.  Don't worry, Durwood, all the raspberries are yours... well, except for the few that I nosh when I pick them for you, but it's only one or two per trip up the hill.  A bagatelle, a piffle... like I said, don't you worry.  Brother AJ and his lovely wife K (hmm, I don't know her middle initial) had a get-together so we went.  Most of the guests were their car (SHO) pals but there was DS (DIL1 had to work an underage wedding at SNC) and Rick from Big Mouth (I need to buy a CD of them from iTunes too and they've got hoodies, I need a Big Mouth hoodie.  Need one.)  I forget how much I like Rick between times I see him (which are years apart, but I might be changing that, I'm planning to become a groupie, maybe, I think I might start by tagging along with DS & DIL1, see? then no one will know I'm groupie-ing, I'm crafty like that, when you get to my [advanced] age you can do it too).  Don't worry, he's happily married and so am I so it's just a platonic "like."  Sheesh.  I got a huge birthday balloon, a giant red cupcake, and a crazy singing about cheese card from AJ, K & CA; great funny cards from TW and Aunt B; and 2 great bracelets and a bouquet (red!) from Durwood.  It was a great day, a great one.  Today's Photo a Day them is "father," this is my Dad's high school grad photo.  Wasn't he handsome?  He's been gone about 16 years.  I miss him.  Now I'm an orphan.  I don't like it.  Not one bit.  I do not recommend it.  Not.

September 2--Bolognino Zaltieri, Page from Le Imagini de I Dei de gli Antichi.  (Italian, ya gotta love it)  The book smelled of dust and vinegar.  It was so strong that Luisa drew back, reaching to push it away.  The book had been in its slipcase for better than five centuries.  The leather spine was faded to a pale liver pink color while the covers were still a deep rich oxblood red.  The edges of the pages were that concentrated urine yellow that so grossed her out and made her glad she wore gloves, even cotton ones.  Zaltieri had been one of the best etchers in Venice in the middle of the 16th century and Luisa was lucky to have been chosen to restore and catalog the university's holdings, but she wasn't sure what caused the vinegar smell.  It wouldn't be good.

Ooh, time's fleeting.  I've gotta get a move on so I can get Skully at around 10:30 for the kite fest.  Can't really go braless and untoothbrushed in my jammies.  Nope, I'm too old and saggy (way too saggy) for that.  Hasta manana.  (looks like "hasty banana" doesn't it?)


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