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good morning, it’s 1:57 pm

Yesterday was an icky day. It included the dentist.
It included drugs and frustration and nothing nice.

Today, I awoke at 1:57 pm. Gee, I don’t think
that has happened since I was 15 years old.

My Golden Retriever is a really great companion.
She is a wonderful “sick” dog. She pretends to be
sick and in need of sleep and books and quiet time
when you are. That way you don’t feel silly
in bed at 2 in the afternoon of a regular Wednesday.

I just now finished making two thinking of you cards.
One friend had a hip replacement in November 2010.
One friend had knee surgery in September 2010.

Yes, I have taken/sent get well packages. I have
sent many cards for weeks after. I just thought
I would send them thinking of you home made cards
today. Just to check in and see how they are doing.

GOD BLESS any human that has to go through
any type of treatment for months and months. It is
a long fight. A lonely one at that. Sure the Hallmark
card company tries to sell the idea of friends and family will be
there for you and you will get an overwhelming
mailbox full of cards and letters. Wear your ribbon
people! Wear it for everyone to see how concerned
you are! Here is the truth…….it is your husband
and dog that see you through the tough grind. Day
after day.

Today, I am tired and hurt and very, very grumpy.

I am going to double my efforts to send cards and
postcards and e-mails and letters to my friends
who are going through long term situations.
through each day.

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Hardware store happiness

Rather than being over the top frustrated I am using my noggin and
(gentlemen start your engines) getting the ol’ creative juices flowing.

Fabric. It is hard to come by lately. Oh sure, I have tons of 100% cotton for quilting. From where I live, luckily there happen to be lots of quilt stores within a reasonable distance. For some reason, yes, I know, folks don’t sew as much anymore, there doesn’t seem to be lots of great fabric stores in the Pacific Northwest.

Last week, I did indeed come across a lovely piece of hounds tooth, black and white and I made a kicky, actually sassy skirt for date night. Super easy pattern, for some reason had to go up one size over what I have been wearing lately, lined it top to bottom (yeah, don’t have to monkey with a slip) and for the pattern (on sale 99 cents), zipper, fabric and lining …..the cost was right around $17.00. Made me sing a happy dance. Gee, do I take the money out of the clothing envelope or the craft envelope? I went with the clothing envelope…it turned into clothing within 24 hours and I can use the craft money for supplies to make my Valentines! woohoo!

Back to fabric…..I am talking workable fabric. Some with texture for skirts, some shirt weight for well, sewing a nice shirt. Heavier and hipper fabric for sewing a smart and sassy jacket. Then there are the wine bags. I am trying to find burlap that is not too loosey goosey (yes those are indeed two great words). I thought maybe canvas would work. A bit too heavy and for nice quality canvas, it is a pricey date.

My brain power went into overdrive. I found a great weight fabric, great neutral color, great quality………… $4.10 for a huge amount of yardage. Where you ask?

Lowe’s the hardware store, paint department!!! You see, when Mr. Right is browsing or whatever they do while talking to the people in vests and showing a “part”…..I am coo coo for cocoa puffs (oh weird, I thought of those, not that good really) any way, I wonder, meander really and figure out life and what to do with things I find.

Drop cloth. GREAT find. Tons of fabric, great quality and almost nice enough not to line the wine bags. I will experiment and see if I can stamp or paint a design on the fabric. Oh, I am so happy with the idea. yippy!!! Oh, I can make a new table skirt, gee, actually a bed skirt would be nice, new tab curtains, my mind, as usual is whirling. Oh, oh, oh… a cute drawstring toy bag for a sweet little grandgirlie….

Who knew you could find happiness at a great price in a hardware store?

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I see London, I see France…

I see London, I see France, I see someone’s underpants………………..

Really, again? Miss Venus Williams, I swear I write more about you than
I do any other person. You just bring something out in me. I want to
shake you and make you sit in a chair and share some good and not
so good things with you.

Just in case no one has taken the time to tell you, here is a newsflash,
YOU ARE A GREAT tennis player. You have an amazing serve, your backhand
is fierce. You are a real pleasure to watch as an athlete.

Do you really need an insane outfit to draw attention to yourself? In my opinion,
I am not sure the yellow woven tennis outfit with printed skirt really is
all that pretty. Short, could it be any shorter and
still called a skirt?

Here is the thing, you seem to be a strong and quite capable woman.
You are an amazing athletic entertainer. Do you really want to cheapen
who you are by wearing less than you deserve?

My opinion counts for very little. I guess in the grand scheme of things
you are an entertainer. You are suppose to garner attention and sell
products. You are paid to do so.

Well people are looking and talking. To me the unpolished look is
fading and your grace is slipping away a little bit at a time.

I hope your game doesn’t.

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ps. my art connection with our boys

The one great thing about art, it that it is a sincere connection with our boys.

I have been going back and forth all morning with Gabe. He is teaching me all about Kooning.I am reading and trying to keep up. He is coming at me fast and furious. I love the challenge. I told him at one moment, if this Graphic Artist “thing” doesn’t work out, he would be a wonderful Art Appreciation teacher.

Isn’t it funny how we can talk back and forth about just one piece for minutes?

I remember the exact moment when Dustin saw his first Monet. I was standing about
2 feet from him to his right. I remember the shoes I was wearing. I looked down and thought, remember this exact moment in time. He said, “this is real”. I said, “yes”. His life changed in a moment. I also remember how big the first Andy Warhol painting was that Dustin was standing in front of. He seemed too close. He had to keep moving his head and turning to take in the entire piece. I remember his face. He was smiling and sort of laughing with his eyes. It was just a fleeting moment, but I was there, I caught it.

I also remember the temperature in the church in Bruges, Belgium the day I saw Gabe’s face when he saw his very first Michelangelo sculpture. I can hear the rustle of the moving robes of two or three nuns moving towards him and watching (they were off to my right). Gabe walked so close up to the alter. He
didn’t even know “the appropriate” amount of space to stay back. He was literally
drawn to it. Bruce and I watched him. The nuns watched him. No one said a word. It was actually, the very first time I had seen a piece of Michelangelo’s work in person. My feelings were real and strong however, pale in comparison. I was fortunate to be among the five adults present in the moment and watched as it unfolded before us.

An eight or nine year old little boy, baseball hat in hand, made up his own mind about appreciating great things.

His life changed in a moment. A moment in time. A piece of time I was witness to.

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The Art of Date Night

It always ends up being so great and we are both totally glad we
made the effort. Sometimes, we wobble or get a bit derailed getting there.

Date night was suppose to be last Friday night. My head was pounding from
who knows what, it just wasn’t going to happen. I couldn’t even think
straight.

Date night happened last night. It was awesome and fun and happy and
uplifting and completely fresh and enjoyable.

For my part, my lovely locks were dyed and highlighted. My pedicure
and manicure were fresh for the evening. I sewed a new skirt. Oh,
how I love hounds tooth. The new skirt turned out smart and sassy and comfortable
and fit perfectly. I completely lined it and it hung beautifully. I am always
so happy that I line things and sew the hems in by hand. Worth the extra
minutes in the sewing room.

Picasso. Certainly not one of Mr. Right’s favorite artists. However,
it was Picasso. period. We made the choice over a year ago to attend.
(A written down goal tucked into our entertainment envelope.) I will say,
it is meaningful to know that the person you
have chosen to view an exhibit with, (even though that is not his
favorite), has gone to the effort to study and learn and be in the moment
of your interest, very empowering.

I worked through about 9 hours of studying several of the pieces prior to attending.

We stopped and purchased our tickets (sold out online). Our time was for
9:20 pm.

We went to dinner first, Le Cote in the Madison Park area of Seattle.
Such a charming, very small, lovely French creperie. The service is
unobtrusive and thoughtful. The food was more delicious than our last
visit, if you can imagine that. The beverages pared perfectly with our food
choices. We had a relaxed meal with dessert and coffee to finish.
Oh, what a treat. Now, I know you are thinking, argh, dinner and looking at
your watch ……..not like that. Our tickets were far enough ahead we could
simple “be” at the restaurant.

We arrived at the SAM an hour plus before our time. We were able to
take in some of the museum and other pieces. A Jackson Pollack hits you right
between the eyes. It is certainly eye candy and a bit hard to wrap your brain
around. His work stretches our being. Remington, need I say more? Those lines are unmistakable.
It brought instantly to mind Oklahoma. Where we were fortunate to
view our very first piece of his sculpture. Yes, a painter first, but by golly he
found his calling within the folds of bronze. Willem de Kooning, one artist that
I simply can’t figure out yet. I am still learning and trying. I guess it doesn’t matter what I think, he knew exactly what he was doing.

The tie my “date” had chosen to wear was indeed ‘art like”. Yikes, might
have to be retired. Not a fan of the lines nor the color. It might be just too much color in one sliver of fabric. Yes, Virginia we judge what
our dates are wearing and love and appreciate the thought that went into
the preparation for an evening out.

The queue for the 9:20 ticket holders started to form. oh my…….. I had
done my research, prepared, had a lovely dinner, we are almost there. No,
thank you, no audio for me (do love that you can utilize electronics
to learn and hear about 40 of the over 150 pieces shown). That is just not for me/us. Too distracting and “herd like”. I don’t want to move to the next piece or wait to follow the audio.

Time… 9:20 pm. dark, raining, Seattle, Washington…………..our turn. You could feel the energy. That many people at one time, that much body heat can not be good for any piece of art. Being surrounded by his works, his favorites really, just a bit overwhelming.

The drawings, the sculpture, the oils….so real, so up close and personal, you have
a real sense of the person, his life, his passion. Passion… that is the perfect word to describe this man. You may not feel all warm and fuzzy over his work or the man himself, but oh you can feel the intense passion for life. Passion can be joy filled like “Two Women running on the Beach” or dark and evil just prior to war, “Cat Seizing Bird”. Very, very intense, very purpose filled.

The temperature in that particular wing of the museum got very warm. Actually,
we had worked our way through 2 hours and 20 minutes of time. That is about our
limit at any museum. One’s brain can only hold and grasp so much.

As with every visit to a museum, the gift shop pulled me in.
Postcards chosen to send to other art lovers , were purchased.

It was time to end.

Lovely, to be with other “date night” folks. Some, you could tell, were way too in love and new to each other, they really didn’t have eyes for Picasso, only each other. He would have appreciated that. Pablo Picasso, a radical and influential artist of the 20th century would be one of the first to “see” the beauty in both couples in love and the magnitude of the exhibit.

Just as it was about 30 years ago, date night still holds a certain something, something. Some how, some way, surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of people, you feel like it is just the two of you, taking in a little art show. Like the thread that is strong and constant, that holds a beautiful beaded necklace together, date night might just be the secret thread that ties together year after year after year of a lovely relationship?