Friday, July 31, 2020

Jane, bubbles, loopy, traveller

* "What a pleasant life might be had in this world by a handsome, sensible old lady of good fortune blessed with a sound constitution and a firm will."
Jane Austen

* Large dome bubbles form in the shallow puddles as the rain plunks down.

* The loopy, wet power lines shine as silver when the sun strikes them.

* Postings from a nostalgic traveller. 

* Revisiting 'Cold Comfort Farm' and my first view of Ian McKellen. 

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

roses, fan, groom

* "It is not about stopping to smell the roses. It is about knowing, realizing, the roses are still there."

* I carry the fan from room to room as I settle to work for awhile in each one. Quite a procession: me with huge box fan, a furry black dog, a furry khaki dog.

* A jewel of a dog groomer.

Monday, July 27, 2020

Marleau, blueberries, fiddles

* Captaine Marleau, she wears my hat.

* Luscious blueberries. My mother introduced me to the act of freezing blueberries at their peak of ripeness in order to enjoy them, still frozen, on early dark winter nights instead of less healthy snacks. The best freezer container I have found is an empty gelato pint container. This particular brand of gelato is on sale these days so I am happy to indulge in gelato. And look forward to frozen blueberry winter nights.

* 'Ashokan Farewell'
   'Shove the Pig's Foot a Little Further Into the Fire'

* Such fun watching the endeavors of across the street neighbors and conjuring up the details of their lives.

* Dear city conformance vehicle that often drives air conditioned past my house :the 3 foot high things are not weeds but are actually tree sprouts which I am encouraging to grow. 

Tuesday, July 21, 2020

doors, thirst, cool

* Why do characters not find out who is on the other side of the door before they open it?

* Quenching the thirst of outdoor plants. They visibly brighten up.

* A dark, cool office.

book, purchase, clear, binge, comb

* "What kind of book would your life be?"
   "A medical dictionary."
   "No, really."
   "A novel with its pages glued together."
   "It is time you unstuck the pages."

* "That is the best thing you've bought all year."

* 'clear history'

* I can binge watch 4 seasons/series of a show then must stop because the characters and plot become so improbable and I am stuck on a conveyer belt. Better to imagine what happens after the 3rd.

* A black comb with half the teeth missing.

Monday, July 20, 2020

situation, show, mental

* Pushing through a situation, it helps to imagine a worse situation.
   Giraffe with a sore throat.

* the Graham Norton Show

* "You're absolutely mental!"
   "Yeah. But in a nice way?"

Saturday, July 18, 2020

series, aspen, rain

* Watching a French television series with much soup, cigarettes, and coffee shared amongst the characters. My mouth waters for soup, cigars, and coffee. Enjoying the German words interspersed with French. zweisamkeit. einsamkeit. Someone in a humor class said that Germans have no sense of humor but I think their humor manifests itself in their language, subtlely or subtly. (My spell correct does not like the first one.) The way words are glued together in German is interesting. Krankenhaus.

* Aspen leaves shiver.

* Far away, a curtain of rain falls from dark clouds. A grey water color wash.

* I cringe/flinch when the theme of a book/short story is missed...In today's crossword the clue is 'gift in "the Gift of the Magi"'. Their answer is 'fob'. No, guys, you are missing the entire, whole wonderful point of the story.

Monday, July 13, 2020

bummed, decorations, sleeves, clouds

* I am bummed all day until the rains finally come to cool the earth and the air. I sit on the damp red camp chair feeling the wet soak into my blouse and pants. At last the dogs can cavort--the male wetting on every plant and the female chewing on the ornamental grasses. There is a strong possibility that she will choke up her cud after we go inside but, hey, that is why I have no rugs. Easier to clean up the human's blood in his last year, easier to clean up throw up stuff. Writing that, I feel myself coasting back into bumitude so I evacuate this topic!

* Finally I take down the Christmas decorations.

* On two of the sweaters I am knitting I am ready for the sleeves, my least favorite part of a sweater. I will hop back and forth between them to keep alive the drama and interest.

* Never can enough be said about the clouds and their formations here=so spectacular.

Sunday, July 12, 2020

bowl, water, sign off

* Limes and lemons together in a white bowl on an old oak table.

* I do not see if I have placed the sprinkler just right until the leaves of the bushes begin to quiver and sparkle.

* We sign off with movie quotes (we know that we love one another).  Whap! "Snap out of it!" and "What's the matter, Pop." "I'm confused." Ah! I've got that movie. An enjoyable 90 minutes pass.

Saturday, July 11, 2020

Patrick, typos?, new light

* Picard reading Shakespeare's Sonnets. He does not read those he does not like.

* Reading a book set in Scotland, I notice typos but then wonder if they are Scottish words.

* Lying in bed as new light filters through the gap in the curtain, I estimate the time.  My eyes crave something of beauty as their first focus at mornings. The medallion quilt (I calculate its age=38 years) hangs just there. White walls. Dried eucalyptus. Fuzzy dog patiently waiting. Colors of 'Flaming June'.  Shape of a crab apple tree outside. Then, gratitude...for another night survived, for love known, for children safe, for trees living, for remembered people, for, for, for....

Friday, July 10, 2020

Gaiman, Ian, Jupiter

* Neil Gaiman: "We are tougher than we seem. 
                       We are tougher than we think. 
                       Our stories will outlive us. 
                       Let's make them good."

* I happen upon a magnificent interview of Ian McKellen. 

* Jupiter and Saturn!!!!!

Steve, voices, focus

* Steve Martin learning how to pronounce 'hamburger'.

* Recordings of voices.

* Focus.

Wednesday, July 8, 2020

wear gloves, Res, ballet

* I cringe and shudder when archivists and their visitors do not wear gloves when handling precious documents and artifacts. 

* To the Res today for a wade in ice water. 

* Living with the heat is a finely choreographed ballet of adjusting windows and curtains, positioning fans, removing clothing and pouring iced water.

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

expedition, o/c/h, lady

* We plan our expedition assiduously, checking our watches (phones, really), endeavoring to complete our mission with the least amount of stress pounding into our overheated bodies. I aim the car into a 30 minute space. Not the best location because it is just by the corner and pulling back out of it is problematic. (I like using 'problematic'. The possibilities of the problems possibly presented are plural.) Time! Ready! Go! He carries the basket. Many comments I have received about that basket. Time is evaporating! He returns! Home now with salsa, burrito (we share), queso. No margs this time--too early in the day. 

* The ottoman/cassock/hassock I have had forever spilt its seams last week. The top removes to expose a hiding place which no one knows about unless they pick it up weirdly. I have secreted in that place telling myself I definitely would remember my secretion many times only to forget and done without stuff until I remembered (usually in the middle of the night). Whether or not I remembered in the morning was a challenge. If my mother were here she would not rest until she recovered the o/c/h for me but she is not here, she is resting in the netherworld. Solution...duct tape. A little store I attend has a limited supply of dc. I do not like to go to big stores. The red xed tape does not quite match the red of the o/c/h however it all is just as comfortable.

* "There is a lady in the drawing room."

Monday, July 6, 2020

Stephen, planner, entice

* Apparently, this year is being written by Stephen King. A friend mentions 'The Twilight Zone'.

* I bought a 2021 monthly planner. Earliest purchase of a year's planner. A fat, intricate, glossy, expensive planner. By gosh, 2021 is going to happen for me. Fast. And it will be the year I fill up every planner page with things I did:purty pickchurs, lovely dreams, and joy.

* Books on shelves that entice me away from what I am suppose to be doing.

Sunday, July 5, 2020

mudlarker

* A real gem...Knowing, acknowledging,  another person's joy and satisfaction. I follow the page of a London mudlarker. She shares photos of her finds in situ, while held in the palm of her hand, and cleaned up. She wrote, "Friday evening, on a quiet, dark and sultry foreshore, the river finally gave me what I've been waiting 15 years for...a medieval pewter pilgrim badge. I danced a jig, I squealed and I haven't stopped smiling all weekend! St Osmonde, mid 15th century and the only hand that's touched it in almost 600 years is mine." I am deeply appreciative of and am fascinated by people who give their whole heart and energy and being to their non-confrontational, positive  interests and passions. She has found a quiet oasis in a bustling city as she with surgical gloves and knee pads searches in the muck of a tidal river. It is people calmly, quietly, evenly getting on with living that are brilliant. They are life's real gems.

Saturday, July 4, 2020

tunes, travel, clock

* Long not thought of tunes bubble up from Girl Scouts, Broadway shows, '50's and '60's. I sing. Someone jokingly talked about jumping off of a bridge='Ode to Billy Joe' popped up in my mind.

* My post isolation travel list grows. St John the Baptist in Inglesham, UK (near the origins of the Thames) + Crovie, Scotland. Dreams are necessary.

* An analogue clock that does not 'tick' loudly.

Friday, July 3, 2020

early, fan, sampler

* Eyes half open, I approach the outdoor chair and manage to fill the seat. The cool dry air brushes my cheeks.  The day is still new and fresh with possibilities. The dogs freely  explore the night's drama of the south forty. Oops! Something may be in the tallest tree. I dissuade their barking and they are distracted by the tall ornamental grasses. A salad before breakfast? In the winter they path the snow close to the fences, patrolling. Summer now and the heat will fall on us soon. Time for dog food.

* The reassuring rumble of the attic fan.

* A framed sampler sewn by my  mother back when my daughter was learning her letters.

Thursday, July 2, 2020

hollyhocks, Eyam, photo

* Stiff vertical hollyhocks of pinks against a building whose weathered boards are painted ochre. Silica + aluminum + ferric oxide.

* A book telling the Eyam story. My first instinct is to find the stories of living through disasters.

* A photo of me sitting on a wall in Santa Fe taken...12 years ago.