time out for you little mister

I got up this morning all ready to start on the preliminary sketches for two possible jobs out there. Had my coffee while I followed the doings of the blog world and then settled down to be a productive human being after my month long hiatus. Not that I wasn't productive during that time, just not productive in an income producing way.

First thing on my agenda was to answer the email asking for a class description of the new workshop we are going to teach in August. Got my answer all typed out and hit send and all I got was an error message. WTF?! It all worked fine last night. Tried the other send server address with no better luck. Great. After a frustrating half hour, I finally rewrote the class description on Marc's computer and sent it off.

I'm fairly computer literate, can usually solve my problems but by 1 PM this afternoon, after delving deeply into settings and accounts and the connection doctor and the help and on and on and windows hidden in windows looking for that illusive one thing that had (according to the error message I finally found), for no apparent reason and with no direction from me, changed itself so that it allowed me to receive mail but prevented me from sending mail. After changing settings and changing them back ad infinitum, I found it. Unclicked the little box (and, btw, there are TWO of those little boxes and the first one you come across isn't checked) and voila!, I could now send mail.

Unfortunately, I could no longer receive mail.

Geez Louise and Holy Mother. Totally disgusted, I turned it off, unplugged it and went to run a couple of errands while Imac had a little time out in the corner to contemplate the error of it's bad behavior.

I did, eventually, find the new error message that directed me to the solution, changed the setting and I can now not only send mail, but receive it as well. It only took me All. Friggin'. Day.

So now all is right with the world and I'm having a margarita...or two...or three.

birthday loot

I only get my hair cut about twice a year. I get it cut real short and then I just let it grow until it gets to one of two points. It gets hot enough that I am pulling it back all the time or in my face so much I am pulling it back all the time. I'm ready for my semi-annual haircut especially since the two points have coincided.

I had entertained the notion that I would get my hair cut before my birthday party on the off chance that someone other than me just might use my camera and take a couple of shots. Of me, not the tequila. Just kidding, there wasn't any tequila there...open.

moving along...

Apparently, it was low on the priority list.

We had been having the most extraordinary weather last month...cool, dry, breezy days with rampant blue skies. So of course, Saturday, summer paid a visit. Saturday was my party. Because Marc had checked the weather forecast (he's clever like that), we knew it was supposed to be hot and humid so with that in mind, we had the AC man out early in the week to check the (very old) central air unit and make sure that everything was in order so we could cool down the house for when our guests arrived. Everything checked out.

About 4 PM Saturday we went to turn it on and...nothing happened. Nothing happened no matter what we did. So I took my now cool shower and twisted my hair up into a little bunlet in the back, put on shorts instead of the pants I had planned to wear and greeted my closest friends and immediate family.

The AC guy did show up after we called and got it going after replacing a part which had shorted out possibly because of a power surge or could have been mice that will chew through wires and insulation.

Anyway, all this is prelude to these all new pictures* of me, taken at 60 years and one day old. Do I look happy?

I was, very.

I got some very cool presents too.

My son and DIL gave me this plum tree.

A garden plaque from friends Carol and Rick.

My daughter and grandkids made these great stepping stones.

This beautiful vase made by our glass blower friends Dick and Kathy.

A fabulous wind chime tuned to 'C' from my sister.

A very pretty necklace, a book on yoga and a year's subscription to The Yoga Journal from friend Phyllis.

And, of course, the party from Marc who planned it and provisioned it.

I am a lucky girl.

* Special thanks to Hilary of The Smitten Image who photoshopped the cabinet handles out for me so my antennae aren't showing.

the dance

I like to dance. I love to dance. And I especially love to partner dance. Swing and jitterbug are so much fun and, of course, the waltz is an all time favorite. It was my ill fortune to plight my trough to someone who doesn't, and rightly so, dance. Oh, he'll let me drag him out on the dance floor for what passes for dancing now and then and he even took jitterbug lessons with me/for me, bless his heart, but, alas, it's best left undone.

I feel myself lucky if I can manage a dance with one of the cousins during one of the family get-togethers but one night, I had the waltz of a lifetime.

I was lamenting my fate to a friend of ours and he said he'd take me dancing one night. He liked to dance and he was trying to get better and we could go to this club that had a night where they gave lessons of a sort. So I readily agreed. This particular friend is gay and the club was a gay club, which I knew of course but it made no difference to me.

So, the night arrived and he picked me up and we went to this club. They would run through about 6 pieces in a row of a particular dance so you could practice, change partners or not. My friend and I would take turns leading. Finally they got around to the waltz. We did a turn or two and then paused to rest so we went up to the balcony to watch the dancers below and Oh. My. God. there was a guy down there doing the most exquisite waltz I had ever seen. Movie style waltz. No doubt who was in control.

I had a serious want on for a dance with this guy. I was determined to get his attention so I focused my mind on him until he finally looked up and caught my eye. As soon as he did, I spun my index finger around in the universal gesture of stirring it up, then I pointed to him and then to myself and nodded. I'm sure the guy thought I was some sort of lunatic because I hustled myself down the stairs and as soon as the number was over, I basically elbowed all the other guys aside and said 'dance with me'.

“Um, I don't really dance with women”, he said, or something very nearly.

“Matters not to me”, I said.

The music started, he took my hands and off we went.

This was the most wonderful dance. He took me through some complicated turns and I didn't miss a step. I'm a fairly good dancer, or was, but that night, that dance, I was excellent. He was excellent. When it was over, I thanked him sincerely and went back to my friend.

And the night has passed into legend.

a new decade

Today is my birthday and I am 60 years old. I have spent 6 decades on this planet.

My first decade was spent growing up.

My second decade was spent breaking away.

My third decade was spent establishing my identity.

My fourth decade was spent raising my children.

My fifth decade was spent learning who I was.

My sixth decade was spent being comfortable in my skin.

Now I am stepping into my seventh.

I remember back when when I thought 50 was ancient. And then I turned 50 and I found out that 50 was not ancient, it was liberating.

Now I have stepped over into a new decade. Now I see clearly how little time is left. Twenty, maybe thirty years? That is no time at all. Considering how fast the last twenty years have gone by that time will go by in a heartbeat.

When I turned 50, my self image, the one I carry in my head of what I look like, underwent a change. It was no longer of that 30 something woman, it now reflected those added years but still not bad, still young...ish, still healthy, still capable of doing whatever I wanted to do.

Ten years later, I am still capable of doing everything I want to do but I am no longer unscathed by the effects of time. The frailties of the body are beginning to show. I now take thyroid meds, my cholesterol shot up, I developed arthritis in my thumb joints and I was diagnosed with osteoporosis. And my hands, my hands have aged considerably in the last ten years. Much more than my face I think. I peer at my face in the mirror and wonder whoever thought bright lights and big mirrors were a good idea. My hair is still dark though the threads of gray that weave through it are showing more. It gives me the illusion of youth as long as you don't look too close at the years etched on the face it frames.

While we still work at our art, the etched glass is a physical occupation...moving heavy pieces of glass, cutting stencils for hours bending over the table, the sandblasting, all the different aspects of this work are physical. I'm beginning to wonder how much longer we will be able to do it...a scary thought. As working artists, we have little put aside.

Still it could be worse. It could be a lot worse. I have a lot to be thankful for.

So I think my seventh decade will be spent enjoying every one of those fleeting days left to me, doing as much as I can while I still can and counting my blessings.

night lights

Last night... 

The full moon rose over the cotton field,

fireflies flickered in the back*

and the space station passed right over the house.^

* photo by P. D. Pratt

^ photo via www.theguardian.pe.ca/index.cfm?sid=234955&sc=98

ice creamed

The other bit of fun we had was going to the Ice Cream Festival and art and craft fair in Brenham TX last Saturday with my sister and BIL. Brenham, about an hour and a half NE of here, is half again as big as Wharton but it is also the home of the Blue Bell Creamery. Blue Bell ice cream is easily one of the best commercially available ice creams and I'm picky about ice cream. $6 for all you could eat ice cream with 48 flavors to choose from.

pralines and cream, blackberry cobbler and pistachio

cotton candy and blackberry cobbler

Just some of the ice cream we sampled.

The arts and crafts part of the fair was a mix of crafts, food tasting booths, and resellers. There was a lady there selling tupperware (tupperware?), and hats and starter plants ($3 for a 4” pot!), kids toys and I forget what all. Those are the booths that I just kept on walking past though I did buy me a nice hat for $12. 

And then there were the ladies selling hand made goat's milk soap. They even milk the goat's themselves. I'm sorry I didn't get a picture of them. I bought two small bars...rosemary oil with herb and cucumber melon.

And the older lady selling aprons and carry all bags for $5. I got one of those too. And no, I didn't take a picture of her either, too busy shopping I guess.

Actually, most the pictures I took were afterthoughts as we were leaving.

Like these bird feeders

and these bird houses

and the slumped bottles. These people had it down...flat cheese trays, shallow dishes, spoon rests from beer bottles, clocks.

And the bottle cap jewelry. They had a very clever magnetic holder system so you could change out your bottle cap ornament which they sold for $6 each!

They also had a classic car show mostly 50s, 60s and 70s...Mustangs, GTOs, Camaros. Whoa, wait a minute. Mustangs, GTOs, Camaros? Those can't be classic cars. I spent many an hour in those cars. 

And then there was this little contraption. A bar stool on a four wheel platform with a 6 horsepower motor tucked in. Or you could get the model that comes with the beer cooler trailer.

And, this being Texas, no fair is complete without the fried stuff food booth. The sign on the building that you can't see said fried okra and something else fried that I can't remember now. I know you will find this hard to believe, but it had the longest line, I kid you not.

But my favorite thing I saw all day was not at the fair. We passed this yard on our way out of town. The whole back edge of property was lined with some very cool folk art making sort of a fence. I actually had more pictures of the fair and ice cream but I deleted them to take these pictures.

My personal favorite.

up in song

So besides piddling around in the yard, house and studio, I've been taking in some of the local entertainment.

My sister works part time for the junior college here in Wharton doing the layouts for the programs for the events. The band concert was two weeks ago but that was the Thursday we spent the night in the city. Last Thursday was the Concert Choir and Chamber Singers concert so she talked me into going with her. I was totally and completely surprised by how good it was. They were excellent really, and even performed at Carnegie Hall Easter Sunday as part of the program. This was their last performance as some of the members, being in their second year, will not be returning.

The entire group, the concert choir, opened with selections from West Side Story accompanied by piano and then a smaller group, the chamber singers, did three pieces followed by the women's chorus which did one, the men's chorus which did two and finally the entire concert choir finished up the program. This being the small town in Texas that it is, the final pieces were the Battle Hymn of the Republic, When The Saints Go Marching In (which included some audience participation and I joyfully belted out the refrain when it was our turn to join in), and last from Handel's Messiah...the Hallelujah chorus and Worthy Is The Lamb. The program was a little over an hour long and I thoroughly enjoyed it.

These kids were all between 18 and 20 years old and these were not simple arrangements. Harmonies, melodies, different vocal strains were interwoven. And they were having fun.

So, how could I not?

Tomorrow...the ice cream festival