"Fun, Fun, Fun!", "Is This Whole Day Jinxed?", "Who Knows How 'Huge' I May One Day Become?"
6:00am - mug of water
10:30am - baked almonds with cinnamon and sugar
11:30am - 7-up
12:00pm - "Woodpecker" cider
3:00pm - 1/4 chicken dark, sliced potatoes, coleslaw, macaroni and cheese, iced tea/lemonade
4:30pm - a whole bar of DARK Dove chocolate
What? Nothing but a recitation of foods, however delicious those morsels sound??? No recounts of the delightful things we did yesterday and today?? The wonderful visits with friends, the trip to the Renaisance Faire?? Nada??
I'm working on it!
Sunday morning I worked on the Valentine Mandala. I didn't know it, but Julia was also at work on a digital card. (In our special card folder, the page also includes a poem I wrote for Laura and Julia. That will remain private.) I did, however, asked them if they minded my sharing the picture with everyone. They didn't, and so I put it on the Mandala page.
By this hour then, it was time to get ready for our company. Remember the party we had with friends last December? We agreed then that we had so much fun, we'd continue to gather the second Sunday of each month. January's gathering was flushed out by sickness, but February the 14th we were fortunate. So Serena (of the Cats) and Richard (also owned by many cats) arrived at noon. Richard brought the tasty stuffed cherry tomatoes and walnut cake, which we all enjoyed.
A little later in the day, the friends of Laura's Mother arrived. Middi and Eddie brought two huge boxes of decadent chocolate. Eddie played the harmonica for us. Laura and her Mother got nostalgic as he played all these old-timey songs (Harbor Lights, Beer Barrel Polka, The Old Lamplighter, to name a few). I was amazed he didn't need sheet music. I commented on this, and Middi said he didn't know how to read music. That makes his great memory even more a marvel.
They brought a little "so ugly he's cute" black and white Boston Terrier dog. Max got along fine with him after the initial greeting.
After the giving and receiving of great hugs, Serena and Richard headed home, and Laura's Mother brought out the roast beef she'd made. I ate far too much of that juicy morsel.
Sunday evening, we just relaxed. We had another big day waiting for us Monday.
Monday morning I got up before six o'clock and went right to the sewing machine. I got one of the bulletproof vest covers done. Then the three of us in our car, and Glen and Mother in their car headed to the Renaissance Festival. Once there, we went our own separate ways, occasionally meeting here and there. I gave the camera a good workout. Some of the entertainers were the same ones year after year, but they manage to keep a sense of spontaneity and enthusiasm none the less. After three or so hours there, Laura was getting really tired. Her heart had a complaint, so we called it a day. I didn't know it, but I was tired as well. My face and shoulders turned a shade of pink which deepened as the day wore on.
Laura and I were grateful when Julia took over driving. Laura set her front seat back and I laid down, as well. Sleep came quickly.
I'm still tired this morning!
If you're expecting mail from me, our e-mail isn't working. I've been told "Connection refused" since yesterday.
Not only that, our black and white printer isn't working right. . . Is this whole day jinxed?
Maybe it is. The phone keeps ringing. As soon as I pick it up, they hang up. "Mercury in Retrograde???"
I'll try to do some sewing. Perhaps I'll tackle the simpler project in there before the bigger one, in case this is 'cursed' as well.
It WAS a jinxed day yesterday.
It truly was.
And it wasn't just me.
Knowing I felt flaky, I did the easy job first, and started on the last vest. I got its shoulder webbing attached and the places where the velcro goes pinned out. Then after I wound a bobbin and took it off the winder, it flew into a dark corner. I got on the floor, and couldn't fish the dang thing out. PMS or what, I started fussing. Laura came into the sewing room, I fussed more. I was weepy, so Laura encouraged me to rest.
So we laid down for a rest. Laura didn't feel good either. After overdoing it at the gym, Laura's heart gave her great pains. So we consoled each other. The whole rest of the day I was weepy. Julia came home, and it seems about the time my day turned to sh*t, hers did too. She made a lot of mistakes at work. Later, we watched the Highlander rerun on the Sci-Fi channel. It was a good show, and worthy of a hanky, but the way I was, it was a four hanky special. It was about a photographer Duncan steered on the right path. Later, she got famous. She, as an ailing old lady about to die, met up with Duncan again. Well, possibly it's a two hanky show.
So there I was, thinking it was just our own little world. But our local server was acting up as well. I couldn't access the mail. When finally some mail did manage to filter through, Serena asked me did I yank "Weighty Matters"? Alas, our server had a hard disk crash. In putting up their files to the new computer, all files more recent than the morning of February 6th bit the dust. Apparently that was the time of the last backup. I think I've got everything fixed, but if you find something missing, let me know.
Thank goodness Laura feels some better today. I feel vastly improved as well. I even got the vest done early, by 9:00am, meeting the deadline safely.
I had to kill this bee today. But beefore I did, I took its picture. Am I weird or what? But he looked like a tiny version of an alien you'd see in some sci-fi movie.
While out checking the mail, I saw this little squirming thing on the sidewalk. I bent down real low to it. Bees don't normally stay still, so this little guy must have been injured. I told Laura about it when I came back in. "He could still sting someone," she advised. So before I did my stomping duty, I took his picture. It must have been a strange sight, a middle aged woman on all fours with camera to the ground. But he was such a cute little fella.
The poor bee is no more. But maybe he wouldn't have recovered from his injuries, and he'd of squirmed there until he starved to death.
I still keep thinking about the Highlander episode we saw the other night. One of the guest characters was a freaked out immortal who couldn't handle the fact that mortals die. He'd been a doctor in the past, and a patient died on him, despite his best efforts. He was going crazy, even starting to turn into a killer, because he felt numb. He met with Duncan and the photographer at a show of her photos. He spoke of how her work would become more valuable after she died. He didn't understand why that is so. The quality doesn't change, just the fact that there can be no new works makes it more rare and thus more valuable.
Of course I imagine that when I die, all of a sudden my words and images will become more famous. I'd like to have some hint of it now, though. So many of the famous great poets and artists die unknown in their day. Did they also entertain such notions as I do? Perhaps we all do. Even those of us who don't write as well as we think we do.
But I must allow myself a bit of retro crowing: A while back ago, I recieved the honor of being selected for The Artist's Exchange at the Mining Co. I was thrilled to pieces. I glowed for three days afterwards. Go follow that link and scroll down a little. Fame, glorious fame! Sigh!
For lunch I had two green corn tamales, with salsa and nearly a whole avocado. You can blame "Martha Stewart" for the avocado. I went with Laura to the gym and did my 2.05 miles in 39 minutes stint. (No two hour workout with a 250 (!) sit-up topper like one journaller did recently. I couldn't hear the TV in front of me, but I watched as a guy showed her all the types of chilis. Yum! Mexican food! Then a commercial on another one of those TVs showed huge platefuls of Mexican food. Those green corn tamales were calling to me, in the refrigerator three miles away. I could hear 'em loud and clear. And when Ms Stewart cut open into an avocado, my taste buds cried out for satiation. I bought one at the supermarket before we went home.
I told Laura about the Dove bar dalliances. How I tried so hard not to think about it. And that inspired her to another cartoon. She captured the essence of it, indeed.
Yup, to a dedicated person striving hard to lose weight, I'm a piker, for sure. No serious backbreaking, buttbusting efforts here. But I think if I didn't try even the tiny bit I do, who knows how huge I may one day become. There is truly no limit.
Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time; for that's the stuff life is made of.That's today's Thought of the Day. And boy, does it ever seem like nagging. Not much time to chat, for I must sew.Ben Franklin
When I got on their scale, I learned another result of the chocolate binges. I've gained four pounds!
Oh, I've got to be more careful. I have to redouble my efforts. This is terrible.
I feel hungry for so many things, but it is not food. I need to learn what is missing within me. I cry, needing something. What?
Surfing to pass the time while impatiently waiting for Laura and Julia to return with my lunch, I came across this:
quoting Dzogchen Tantra from his book The Crystal and the Way of Light |