Carrying On

Sorry I skipped posting yesterday.  I didn't prompt write on Thursday night nor did I take yesterday's Photo a Day pic.  I spent the morning making a Smilebox of a few of our trip photos, picking out music with Durwood, and figuring out how to save it to Facebook and make a DVD.  I made the DVD this morning (that's why I'm so late posting today) and, well, it's my birthday so I'm doing what I want when I want.  I found a pesto with walnuts recipe online (walnuts are way cheaper than pine nuts) because our basil is towering and needs cutting back.  I trolled back in the blog entries and located the Slow-Roasted Tomato Ketchup recipe Durwood made on July 4th because he wants to make it again for our Family Supper Wiener Off! on Sept. 23 and I needed to find the recipe while I'm thinking about it.  (I keep saying that my brain has turned from Velcro to Teflon; I need to strike while the iron is hot before those thoughts just slide on by and then I'm caught having to be all frantic when the date rolls around.  I try to avoid that.)  I walked up to the bank to cash my latest "sewing for dollars" paycheck and realized that  my days of walking around at elevation in Yellowstone etc. really makes it easier to walk around here near sea level.  I like it.  Right now Durwood's in the kitchen processing tomatoes (that he bought from Sunnyhill Farms) so he can make and can pints of tomato soup.  He made some last year and has been rationing it (2 pints left) but hopes to make even more this year to brighten up his lunches in the winter days ahead.  All he needs me for is hot water bath canning advice since last year was his first time doing it.  Once I get this posted I'll be taking over a tiny slice of counter top to whirr up a batch of pesto, or two if I've got enough basil.  DIL1 recommends freezing it in ice cube trays so it's easy to toss into random recipes for a punch of flavor.  She's so smart, well, she is a real, honest to goodness, classically trained, CIA graduate chef so we listen when she speaks food.  Plus we really like her, also we love her (it's a set).  Thursday wasn't as hard to live through as I thought it'd be.  It really helped to vent my pique on here before work, then it was busy enough there to keep me focused, the old dive shop owner stopped in for a visit and to buy stuff, I talked to DS a bit, called Aunt B to share how much we miss her, DD called at night to talk (she's a peach of a girl), of course Durwood is my constant support and comfort, and I made it through.  I asked DS to go to HuHot for lunch either Friday or today since that's where Mom and I always went to buy each others' lunch; he was available Friday which was perfect because August 31 is the day between Mom's birthday and mine.  Worked out great.  (btw, DD, you and I have a HuHot date the next time you're home, just us two. I thought of you but it wasn't the same, we need to go.)  I wasn't even sad as I'd feared I would be, I enjoyed the hour spent with my son, missed my daughter, thought of Mom (check out the glasses) but in a happy, loving way.  Today's Photo a Day theme is "you, now" so I'm using the pic DS took of me yesterday at lunch.  It counts because I say it does and it shows me as I am--happy, sad, 61, and totally myself.
 
September 1--Johannes Vermeer, Study of a Young Woman.  Gabe wished she would stop looking at him like that.  She had that little smile on her lips and the way she glanced at him over her shoulder almost made him stop, turn away, and leave the painting.  He didn't.  He carefully felt around the frame then lifted it from the wall.  No alarm sounded as he knew it would not. His hands were steady as they levered out the little stops that held the stretchers in place, then he used a blade to score the canvas as close to the nails as possible so that he still had some unpainted canvas.  The old paint and varnish had already cracked so he wasn't concerned about damaging it as he rolled it and slid it into the fishing rod case he wore slung over his back.  There were rods in there already, long pieces, so that the canvas wasn't visible if someone asked him to open it on the way out.

Can you tell I'm listening to an audiobook about art theft?  Quel surprise.  I'm off to pesto.  Have a lovely day.
--Barbara