Chickens

I did my bi-weekly fresh egg run to Soul Food Farm this afternoon. The drive there (about 25 miles on I-80, one of the nastiest commute arteries in the Bay Area) was absolutely dreadful. Even though I knew the reverse-commute drive home would be much more civilized, I felt the need to re-group before I got back on the highway. So, I sat at a picnic table in the shade of an enormous tree, and chicken watched for half an hour. The normally very hot farm was quite balmy this afternoon, and I felt totally refreshed after my break.


This little lady kept walking past me and making the most wonderful, soft chicken noises as she scratched and pecked.

I love chickens, and wish we could have a few in our yard, but I must rein in my enthusiasm and be sensible, and leave our menagerie where it stands, at 21 cats. No sense being a total fool! I'll stick with quilted chickens. I don't know who made this adorable piece, but isn't it wonderful? It's hanging at the shop where I bought my new sewing machine.

What is truth, then...

Night after night... endless variations on a theme... we experience beauty beyond belief in something as simple as a sunset...

Nikolai - Cat of the Week

My cyber-friend, Anado, whose blog, Chapel of Jimmy Ray, I've been following for ages, sporadically does a "Pet of the Week" feature. I decided it might be fun to follow suit and show off some of my special family members, too. If I stay with the program, this will be a 21-week project...

First up is Nikolai, who is probably the most beautiful cat ever to share his life with us. He had a rough life before we scooped him up... abused, declawed, allowed outside (a never-never-no-no for a declawed cat), was subsequently hit by a car and spent weeks in rehab, abandoned by his previous family, and finally wound up in the adoption wagon of the local "Friends of Animals" group, who, frankly, despaired of ever adopting him out because he was such a basket case. He cowered in the back of his cage, he hissed, he swatted, he bit, he hated dogs, other cats, kids, and just about everyone. We decided to accept the challenge of loving him, and, after three years, while he's still a pain in the ass, things are working themselves out. He still hisses, swats and bites, but not as much as before, and he's decided being petted, sitting in our laps and sleeping on top of us isn't as bad as he originally thought. He even socializes with a few of the other cats now. We love him to bits because he IS so obxonious, and I think he's finally beginning to realize (and appreciate) it. Here are some of the reasons we love him...

Amy

Today I received Amy's annual report from World Vision. Amy lives is a small village near Thies, in west central Senegal. Her community is, unfortunately, very poor, and each day is a struggle, though things have improved a little since World Vision began working in the area. Amy lives with her uncle and one brother. No mention has ever been made of her parents, so I don't know if they are alive. In spite of the family's poverty, Amy is able to attend school and is in grade 5. She is a good student and her favorite subject is history; she also says she is good at "conjugation". Admittedly she has me beat there - I was lousy at conjugation - both in English and foreign languages. She likes playing team games, and contributes to the family life by pounding millet and washing the clothes. Amy will be 13 in a few weeks, and she has grown up considerably in the past year. She looks quite mature in this year's photo, compared to her distinct little girl look last year.

I made a bag for her for her birthday, and will be sending it off tomorrow, along with some stickers, a pack of colored pencils and a drawing pad.

August Full Moon

This picture hardly does justice to what I saw last night - it was one of those, "You had ta be there" moments. As dusk fell, I was flinging water everywhere, trying to revive both myself and my herb garden, when I looked up the street and saw the moon rising over the crest of the hill at the end of our street. It was sorta like Stonehenge, with the moon shining through a slit in the rocks. Well, at least that's what it reminded ME of, and I thought it was very cool!

This week, summer dropped on us like an atom bomb. Last weekend was in the comfortable mid 70s, Monday it was in the mid 90s, and yesterday it was over 100. Today is a little cooler, and, at least, the air is moving, sending a delicious breeze drifting through the open windows. In typical San Francisco Bay Area fashion, which dictates, "If you don't like the weather, wait a minute..." , the prediction is for cooling through the weekend, then the bomb is going to drop again next week. I may not like it, but my tomatoes and green peppers are ecstatic!

New Phalaenopsis children

Only one of my orchids in the Greenhouse In The Loo is currently blooming, plunging me into serious depths of orchid depravation. So, when I saw a new shipment of Phalaenopsis in the Raley's nursery today, I picked up a couple to revitalize my spirit. Phals are among the most popular orchids in the trade, with many hybrids having been developed over the years. I've seen them in many colors - from darkest purple, through magenta, pink, white, yellow, orange, beige and even green. Fortunately, they're relatively easy to raise, and I've had good luck so far keeping mine alive and healthy. Although they don't bloom nearly as often as I'd like, I've been blessed with at least one "offspring" from each plant over the years.

Phalaena was the the name given to a group of large moths by 18th century Swedish botanist, Carl Linnaeus, and, because the flowers of this species supposedly resemble moths in flight, they are sometimes called moth orchids. While I think some moths are quite beautiful, I really don't see any resemblance between them and these beautiful flowers... but what do I know?!

So, here are my two newest "flower children"... as you can see, they both have many unopened buds, so I expect them to be blooming for quite a few weeks to come.

Rekha

Today I received the annual "progress report" for one of the two children I sponsor through World Vision. Her name is Rekha, and she lives in the state of Karnataka on the southwestern coast of India. She's now ten years old, and was just promoted from 2nd to 3rd class at her school. The report says she's a very good student, whose favorite subject is Kannada, her native language, and whose current ambition is to be a teacher. This report states Rekha is in good health, is a happy and cheerful child, and enjoys playing with friends, and playing the popular game of kho-kho, an energetic team game of chase and pursuit, played on a field of 27x15 meters.

Since I'm such a terribly non-maternal person, World Vision offers me the opportunity to watch from afar (best for all concerned) as two young girls grow up, and to participate in their well being, as well as helping the community in which they live. For a paltry monthly sum (auto-deducted from my bank account so I don't even miss it) I, along with other sponsors, can help the girls with things like health care, education and school supplies, clothing, better food and clean water. It's difficult to believe my small donation can go so far. I get the pleasure of writing to my sponsored children and sending them small gifts such as colored pencils, drawing paper, hair ribbons, balloons and stickers. They write back to me and keep me apprised of how they're doing in school and life in general. All of this I do from the comfort of my own way-too-comfortable lifestyle. Oy... it makes me feel like such a mentsh!

I can't recommend this happy, painless process enough, and urge everyone to adopt a child and start gathering your own very feel-goods! Go to World Vision to find out how.

BARF...

It's been a rough few days... I'll be back to the land of the living soon, I hope...

Shabbat Brunch

I like Saturday mornings. I no longer work, so Saturday morning isn't a goal, or something to hold in anticipation, or a light at the end of the tunnel like it was for so many years. Maybe it's because the neighborhood seems more alive - I see people working in their yards, washing their cars, walking (in the name of exercise) up the hernia-buster hill we live on, and the neighbor down on the street behind us, who restores old cars, spending the day in his driveway working on his latest project. A few weeks ago he got the engine running on an old jalopy and I thought invaders from Mars had arrived! Egads! What a racket!! I went out in the back yard and waved and gave him two thumbs up, while he danced around his driveway like he'd won the lottery, as the car roared and complained and belched smoke. This week he has the engine running smoothly and it no longer scares the crap out of the entire neighborhood when he starts it up.

Sadly (or not) something I no longer do on Saturday, is go to Shabbat service at the synagogue. I don't know why I fell away from that - it used to mean so much to me. But, as the years pass, I find myself getting more cynical and solitary, and I no longer feel the need to express myself in that way. Things came to a head a few years ago when I quit my last church job. Everything had become so pat... so routine... so boring. It was... "This is the way we go to shul/church, go to shul/church, go to shul/church... this is the way we go to shul/church, so early Saturday/Sunday morning. La la di da di da!" Fifty-some years of being a liturgical musician took its toll on me! These days, I just want to sit in my yard, or, when it's cold, sit in front of the slider, and look out at my wonderful view... at the colorful, noisy birds who raid the feeders, the miles of green hills and trees, the tankers, auto carriers and ferries chugging up and down the Carquinez Strait, the expanse of blue bay beyond the Strait, and Mt. Tamalpias rearing it's majestic self far in the distance. I know the beautiful, powerful, exciting ocean is just on the other side of Mt. Tam, and I can hear its roar, smell its salt and almost taste the sharpness of the air. Who needs to be inside a building, singing, chanting, bowing, reading, praying, and all the other stuff. Not I. I'm better off without it and it's better off without me.

However, there's one chunk of the Sabbath I refuse to let go... my lox and bagel brunch. This IS the thing I anticipate all week... my goal... my destination! For a short, blissful time, as I savor every bite, it's the perfect time to give my own version of thanks... thanks for the goodness of my life and all of the wonderful things that make my life so marvelous and incredible and awesome and wondrous and just downright cool!

Happy Saturday, everyone!

Oceana

Oceana is my newest treasure. She arrived at my house yesterday and took up residence in my studio on the wall over my altar. She was created by sculptor Cheryl Dolby, of Roanoke, Virginia. I've always had a strong connection to the sea and all of its creatures - both real and mythical, and when I saw this beautiful work on Cheryl's blog, I thought about it for about ten seconds, then went to her Esty shop and clicked "Buy"!

This is Oceana's story, a story about the ocean, written by Cheryl...

Oceana

As she was standing at the edge of the ocean
she could hear the waves chanting
their familiar song.

“Come to me,
I am geater than you,
I am wiser than you....
I am the one.”

She resisted once again.
How long could she continue to resist…
How much longer before she embraced her larger self,
her destiny...
her soul…
the sea….

Food experiment...

I was right in the middle of making hummus this afternoon, when I discovered I was out of tahini. UGH! I hate it when that happens!!! Hard to believe, because I use a lot of tahini around here. Not wanting to schlepp the 20 mile round trip to the grocery store, I said, "This is a job for Google!" I found a bunch of recipes, but one was so simple I decided to dive in and try it...

2 cups toasted sesame seeds
1/3 cup olive oil

What could be easier?

Instructions said to use a food processor and pulse until the desired consistency was reached. Since my f.p. was full of the half-made hummus, I used my blender instead, and it worked just fine, though the blender sounded like it was going to die. I ultimately added about a half cup of olive oil to get it as thin as I like it. It's a little "grainy" - sort of like peanut butter, but I don't mind that. The best thing is that it doesn't taste as bitter as the product I've been buying for years... so, guess what? I'm never doing store-bought again! I think I'll try experimenting in the future - maybe make it with a mix of olive oil and toasted sesame oil... or, perhaps, use lemon-infused olive oil... I love experimenting! Especially when the experiment comes out great!

Tuesday...

This has been the coldest summer I can remember in many years. There's been daily wind roaring up the hill from the Bay, and I've seen enough of the marine layer to last me the rest of the year. I'll do my best to remember these days the next time it's in the 90s, without a hint of a breeze or a fog patch in sight. This evening, around 7:30 a blast of sun finally punched it's way through the fog for a few minutes, and made it look as though the heavens were on fire. Then it quickly disappeared and the gloom returned.


Many of my friends who grow stuff are, along with me, whining about rock hard green tomatoes, itty-bitty beans, and non-existent green peppers. One of my six tomato plants is performing splendidly, but, so far, all of the others are duds. There's a lot of promise, in the form of green rocks, so I still have hope. Today, I managed to find enough green beans for dinner, a generic salad tomato, and a generous wad of Sweet 100s...

Buried Treasure in my own back yard!

I LOVE potatoes - any way you can imagine... mashed, broiled, skillet fried, latke-ed, french fried, scalloped, hash browned, hasselbacked, chipped, baked, twice-baked, roasted, au gratined, steamed, as a crust for a savory tart, O'Brien-ed, sliced thin and fried on my sandwich grill, in soups, in salads, and, believe it or not, even boiled. I dug these up on Friday morning, and, alas, they're almost gone already. Since I grow everything in containers, I only get a half dozen or so crops a year, but they're well worth waiting for!

Cat Vultures

Our cats know bloody well begging is not permitted, and they're not to bother us while we're eating, but that doesn't stop them from trying to stare us down and intimidate us into giving up a bite of food every time we sit down at the table. Elvis, Ralph and Martina give us "The Vulch" from the catwalk.

Would you believe... A bead store in Vallejo??!!

I was driving down Marin Street on Tuesday and saw a sandwich board sign on the corner of Marin & Florida advertising a bead store just around the corner. I couldn't believe my eyes, and had to do a U-turn to go back and see if it was really so. Mon Dieu! There it was... in the downstairs area of Dan Robeski's fabulous former home ...The Pomegranate Seeds Galleria !! I parked my car and dove inside, and, IT WAS TRUE!!! Hundreds and hundreds of strands of beautiful beads lined every wall, with bins and bins of individual beads and findings covering every horizontal surface in sight. Better yet, there were fantastically beautiful necklaces and bracelets on display and for sale, along with books and all kinds of jewelry making tools. Ah! A Paradise!! Best of all... they offer classes in basic beading, wire work, design, Peyote, soldering, resin work, even classes in moving from hobbiest to businessperson and teaching workshops. Too good to be true? I sure hope not, because I want to take a bunch of those classes and move myself from bead embellisher to jewelry maker. I'm so stoked I can hardly believe it. I was embarrassed to learn the store had been there for over a year... I've been out of circulation in the arts community for far too long. I wonder what else I've missed??? I look forward to finding out! Here are a few of the things I bought... don't know what I'm going to do with them yet, but I'm going to take the basic beading class and figure it out!

Finally finished piecing this monster...!

I started piecing this top waaaaaay back sometime early last year. Then Dmitri got sick, then Diana got sick, then they both got sicker, and Martin and I got swamped with their care. Not that I minded for a minute the time spent caring for them, but it was so involved and ongoing, it just sucked all the energy and creativity out of me. Occasionally, I managed to work a few hours at a stretch, a time or two a week, but I need concentrated, non-stop, daily time to work at my best. Then, after all of that care, both kitties died - Dmitri in January and Diana in June. The mourning process for both precious kids was intense and lengthy. I've finally gotten both feet back on the ground, and am, once again, able to apply the time and energy I need to make stuff happen. I finished the top two days ago, and am beyond happy to have it done, as well as totally happy with the results. I began work on the back yesterday, and, hopefully, will have it done in a week or two. Then I can take it all to the senior center on a Piecemakers meeting day and make the "sandwich", and start quilting it. With my new machine at the ready, I'm really looking forward to the quilting process, for once! It'll probably take at least a month to quilt because I really went off-scale with all the ditzy, small pieces this time. Plus, I want to try some free-motion stitching on the panels (if I can get up the nerve!)
Stay tuned...!

It's PIQF time again!!!

Well, almost... PIQF won't actually happen until October, but I just heard from them this morning, letting me know I got into the three classes I was hoping to take. I had to miss the festival last year because of taking care of our sweet Diana, and, let me tell you, I REALLY missed it!! At first I wasn't planning to go this year, because nothing in the class schedule jumped up and said, "Hey! This is It!" Then I decided I couldn't bear to miss the festival again. By then, it was too late for Long Beach, and Houston won't cut it, since the only reasonable way to get to Houston is to get my butt on a plane, which, alas, will never happen... >8-/ ... so, PIQF it is.

Recently, no matter how wonderful a class is, or how much fun I'm having, with my degenerating physical condition, I've become thoroughly sick and tired of schlepping a sewing machine around, so I was hoping for machine-less classes. That seriously narrowed my choices, and Dierdra McElroy's disappearance from the class list in recent years, hasn't helped matters either. So I started looking at teacher websites, and when I got to Sue Dennis... POW!! The decision was made in a heartbeat! Sue's work is eye-popping exciting - wonderful colors, textures and concepts, with lots of amazing and imaginative free-motion stitching, and tons of very cool surface design techniques. Be sure to check out Sue's Gallery pages on her website... and prepare to be dazzled!

When I first started going to PIQF in the mid '90s, they offered classes in fabric dyeing and painting, printing, and other surface design procedures. Then, for whatever reason, those classes disappeared. Someone told me the hotel got pissed because the carpets in the classrooms were being damaged by spilled dyes and paints... but who knows. Anyway, I've been hoping for a return of those kinds of classes ever since. A couple of years ago, we did some painting in Esterita Austin's classes, and I got hopeful. Sue's classes will involve working with oil paint sticks and doing some leaf printing... and... fusing... which I love! Piecing will always be my first love, but any new technique of surface design and embellishment always grabs my attention.

From this day in July, October seems years away, but, from past experience, I know it'll get here eventually. I'm seriously stoked!

Volunteers in the Garden

If it weren't for volunteers, I wouldn't have much of a garden this year. I haven't been at all inspired this time around, even though I've really tried to get enthused. All I've done in the back yard is fill a couple of wine barrels with tomatoes, and thrown enough water at the strawberry pot to bring them back to life. I tossed some potatoes I discovered sprouting in the pantry into another barrel a few months ago, and they're just about ready to dig up. Oh, yes... one sage plant and one thyme plant have survived the neglect as well.

We put out a lot of birdseed for our feathery friends, and they toss the black oil sunflower seeds all over the place, thereby guaranteeing themselves some fresh "seed on the stem"...

Once again, we have a survivor from last December's wild storms, in the form of a tomato plant. Last year's survivor grew insanely and filled up a hundred square foot area of the yard, and gave us hundreds of tomatoes. Hopefully, this year's survivor will do as well!


A bean somehow managed to hop across two other barrel planters and make a home with the tomatoes...


Since everything seems so determined in spite of my neglect, I guess I really should help things along a little more. Okay. I'll get busy.

My New Toy

I recently had the misfortune of having both my "workhorse" Pfaff and my Serger crap out on me at the same time. Since the shop where I take my machines for service also sells new machines, and, since I've been lusting after a new, more specialized machine for quilting anyway, I decided to take advantage of my machine-less state and dive in and get the new machine sooner, rather than later. My primary interest in a new machine was to acquire a larger work area to make the quilting process itself less confrontational. Although I seldom make a piece larger than 5-6 feet square, the effort I had to expend to cram even that small a piece into the small work area of my beloved 7550 and then perform some actual quilting maneuvers went off-scale regularly, leaving me a sweating, irritated, totally frustrated wreck, and, ultimately, resulting in the embarrassingly large number of UFOs I find myself trying to justify every time I start a new piece.

My new Pfaff Expression 2.0 has a 4-inch larger work "desk" than the 7550, which, Pfaff claims, is the largest available on non-long arm machines. In addition, it has lots of other bells and whistles I appreciate on my 7550 (plus a bunch more I may or may not ever use) - built in walking foot with even feed (so necessary for quilting), two really bright lights to illuminate the sewing area, automatic tie-off, needle up/down at stop positions, adjustable sewing speeds, needle threader, extra-large stitch plate, as well as a generous selection of basic stitches - plenty for me since I seldom do much except straight ahead stitching anyway. I set everything up last night and it all came together well... I even put in a half hour's work on the quilt that's been hanging on my quilt wall for far too long, and which I'm thoroughly ready to finish!


Browyn is as excited about "our" new machine as I am! Nanuq, looking through the extra-large work space, thinks it's pretty cool too!

Iris Apfel - My New Hero

Whenever I see the word "Irreverent", it grabs my attention; doubly so whenever I see that word in connection with a woman. Now, when it's connected to an older woman - I don't care who or what she is... I definitely want to know more! I saw this book in a used book store a few months ago and just about dropped my laundry as I thumbed through the pages. I was headed for the cash register with it when I checked the price... it was HIDEOUS!!! Waaaaaay above the published price. Surely, I thought, this can't be the only copy left on the planet... where do they get the nerve trying to gouge a customer for such an outrageous figure?! I reluctantly reshelved the book, came home and checked on Amazon, and, sure enough, their price was totally reasonable. Only problem was, they didn't have any copies in stock, and politely requested I place my order anyway and they would notify me when they received more copies. Good luck with that... I'd be waiting forever. However, they had a number of private vendors with copies to sell and I found one who wanted even less than Amazon's list price. And it was brand new. (The copy in the used book store was more than a little shopworn.) So... it arrived yesterday and I've barely put it down since.

Iris Apfel is totally amazing! She is, in my opinion, a doyenne, a genius, a maestra, a wizzard, a prima dona (stop me before I embarrass myself) of fashion! At 88 years of age, she's a legendary style icon who continues to challenge visual culture with radical juxtapositions of disparate influences in spectacular, unexpected and playful wardrobe combinations. Her garments are fabulous, but her jewelry just knocks my socks off. If I had the $$$$ to be able to dress like her, I'd spend it all in a hot minute just to be able to dash headlong into my 70s in my idea of fashion perfection!

Enough!! Have a look for yourself:

Iris at home (she furnishes her house like she adorns her body...!):










I rest my case!!

Returning from The Journey

My computer blackout (advertised in the previous post) lasted the intended week, but my blog blackout has gone off scale. The reason being... I simply wasn't in the mood. My BWO (Blogging Without Obligation) certification allows me that luxury and I decided to exercise it. Life has been on hold for the last few months as we helped one of our beloved felines transition. Diana left us on June 17th after nearly a year of intensive nursing care and total dedication from my awesome husband and co-cat parent. There aren't enough words to express my feelings of love and gratitude for Martin's total commitment to the task of caring for Diana. He literally put his own life on hold for the past few months in order to dedicate himself to her care. If we were to go by test results and other medical statistics, Diana should have died sometime last year, but, test results and examinations be damned, she lived for months beyond that medical prediction. I'm absolutely convinced it was due to Martin's love and care. Until her dying day, she appeared to be pain free, comfortable, interactive with both us and the other cats, affectionate, playful, and interested in what was going on around her. She loved lying in the sun, or in front of the fireplace, and especially enjoyed sitting in Martin's lap on a suny day out on the patio. Behind the scenes, Martin was feeding her four times a day through her esophageal feeding tube, dealing with the preparation (measuring, grinding, blending, diluting, mixing and orchestrating) of a dozen drugs, administering twice-daily sub-cutaneous fluids, dealing with daily dressing changes, at least twice-weekly vet visits in Vallejo, and bi-weekly vet visits at UC Davis, and countless other ditzy details that would have driven me bonkers. I wasn't totally idle throughout all of this - there still remained the care and feeding of the 21 other cats, preparing Diana's special food, keeping Martin and me fed and in clean underwear, shopping, keeping the garden presentable, and occasionally vacuuming up the substratum of cat fur from our beleaguered carpets.

People who don't know us well and/or who don't appreciate cats, or who think parenting human children is the only worthwhile act of sacrifice, would ask us why we elected to denigrate our health and sanity for the sake of one feline. "Why don't you just put her down?" they would ask. Why? Because that's not the way we do things. It most likely would have come to that sooner or later, but as long as she appeared to be enjoying her life, we had no intention of opting out for our own convenience.

Life is slowly returning to a reasonable accord around here, as we clear up the enormous collection of medical paraphernalia we've amassed over the past year, and rearrange the houses and our life habits to a semblance of normal. (Normal... us???) But the big void that remains after Diana's departure will be felt for a long time to come. We miss her enormously, as do a number of the other fur kids. It bordered on mayhem and chaos a lot of the time, but neither of us would wish it any other way. Life is nothing without our experiences, and Diana gave us one hell of a ride! Thanks, our brave, sweet little girl.

Computer Blackout

For the past year, I've wasted far too much time zoning out in front of this damned computer. Between e-mails, internet movies and TV downloads, Facebook, e-lists, and just plain mindless wandering from URL to URL, I figure I've lost a good six months of my life. Gone... kaput (or is that kapoot?)...whatever... six months never to be seen again. I'm too old for this. At my age, six months is a long, long, time - time that could have been much better applied to doing something creative or useful. So, as of tonight, I'm declaring a week-long computer blackout. I'll pretend my computer suffered a melt down and is in the shop. Of course, since I'm a MAC Person, that scenario is totally ridiculous since we all know MACs are the apex of perfection and never have problems, but I'll try my best to make believe that's the case.

I intend to spend this week in more lofty quests - in other words, things to which I should have been applying myself in the first place. Things like working in the garden, working in my studio, perhaps even plopping my butt down on a piano and/or organ bench and actually (gasp) playing some Bach. Why, I may even pull my flute off the shelf, dust it off, and toot a few notes (my asthma doctor has oft suggested fluting as an excellent way of restoring my sadly desiccated lung function.) There are, of course, many other activities to consider... meditation, petting cats, star gazing, reading, watching sunsets, sitting on my front patio breathing deeply of my roses, stocks and honeysuckle (what my neighbor, Sandy, likes to call my "floral soup".) Then there's taking a drive to the Benicia shoreline to sit in solitude in my car, sketchbook in hand, or going to Michael's to restock my artsy-fartsy supply stash, or going to visit my Sistah, donnio, for a massage, or visiting Dorrin, my chiropractor for an extra adjustment or two, or, how about a trip to Mid City Nursery for a blowout plant acquisition... all possibilities that, frankly, sound quite exciting.

Well... you say... no great loss... she just did a blog blackout for an entire month... so why the "announcement"... like it's some kind of big deal??? Well, to me, it IS some kind of big deal. I'm one of the most undisciplined people I know, and, believe me, this week is going to take some discipline. I know I'll be able to do it because I've told my husband I'm going to do it. He already thinks I spend too much time on the computer, and is constantly reminding me of that fact, so you can bet he's going to be really serious about "monitoring" me. If he even hears me so much as open the computer room door, I'm going to hear about it.

I've prepared myself well for this "exercise". This afternoon, I visited a bunch of my favorite blogs, to get "caught up", got a serious Naveen Andrews hit of photos and YouTube clips, checked the weather, tides and astros sites, plowed through a bunch of Dr. Weil's recipes and listened to a lot of my iTunes jazz tunes. All in preparation for leaving the lid down on my trusty iBook... not just for an hour, not just for a day, but for a whole friggin' week.

See you next Monday.

Memorials and Memories

I've been having a contemplative week... a little depressing, a little uplifting... awash in memories of what was and what might have been, along with thoughts of what's yet to come. Last Saturday, I attended a memorial service for Barbara, a friend of over forty years. It was an intense day, full of bittersweet memories, and reunions with people who were once very important players in my life, from whom I've drifted apart, and whom I realized I've missed. I know it's in the nature of friendships to ebb and flow - wish it didn't have to be that way, but it just is. Barbara and I "grew apart" as friends about ten years ago for reasons that now seem petty and neither make sense nor matter today. There's nothing I can do about it now, and that's the bitch of it all... death is so fucking final.

Friendship is a strange phenomenon... so much fuss is made about how important it is (or should be) in our lives, but, so often, we treat it so casually as to be embarrassing. How does that happen? We move away from each other, we develop different interests, one or both get married, have kids, get new jobs, come into money, go broke, have some stupid disagreement - lots of stuff comes up to make life different for one or the other, and the drifting starts. In the end, I guess there's nothing seriously wrong with the drifting... it does seem kind of natural in the long run. But then, when you run into old friends, you often experience a longing that things could be the way they used to be, with the happy, fun, funny, crazy, exciting and meaningful stuff we remember doing together. This is especially poignant when you run into those old friends while celebrating the life of another, mutual friend.

Barbara and I met when we worked in one of the labs at UCSF. Our friendship was immediate and energetic. We were both a little nuts, and bounced off each other well. We were rabid opera fans, and her sisters chose to play opera CDs before and after the memorial service. POW! Hearing all of that glorious music hit me squarely between the eyes and brought back floods of memories of fantastic performances we'd seen together at SFO, and Sunday afternoons hanging out, getting sloshed and petting cats, while listening to one or the other's newest opera recording. We both loved to sew and spent hours at fabric stores pouring over pattern books and bolts of fabric. She sewed much better than I - her garments were always so professional looking and patiently crafted, while mine were usually thrown together without much regard for following the proper steps of the pattern. She always complimented my creations, though, I'm sure I saw more than one sideways look and raised eyebrow in the process. We both loved cats and were both a little sappy over our furry babies. Barbara loved to travel and could afford it. I didn't care to travel, and couldn't afford it anyway, but I spent lots of fun hours listening to tales of her travels and hearing about foreign Opera Companies and museums she'd seen. We liked to pile in the car and drive off to points undetermined - usually to a beach somewhere where we sat in the car drinking, talking and watching sunsets and listening to KJAZ. Our love of artichokes and garlic was vast, and we often went to the Watsonville Artichoke Festival and the Gilroy Garlic Festival and stuffed ourselves witless, then came home with sacks of the prickly globes or stinking rose to dream up new concoctions with which to further stuff ourselves. Tons more memories of eating out, horsing around, getting blasted, smoking pot and eating an entire cheesecake in one sitting, talking, arguing, swapping boyfriends then picking them apart... silly, stupid, dumbshit fun.

So what happened? I know, but it doesn't matter now... it just happened, and the friendship began to unravel, and finally ceased to exist. I'm sorry now, but, like I said, now's too late. Hopefully, I won't let it happen again.

Life With Jack

As if I, the hell, needed any more medical events in my life, several days ago, after imbibing a few too many of my favorite Jack Daniel's libations, I turned my ankle on the edge of the driveway while in the process of being a good little green hausfrau and taking out the recyclables. My substantially overweight ass, along with the rest of me, hit the deck and slid along the concrete for a foot or two, removing a considerable amount of skin from elbow and knee and forcing my shoulder to, literally, "shoulder" the brunt of far too much weight landing on top of it. After a monumental struggle to upright myself, I spent the next ten minutes sitting on the driveway, leaning against one of the cars, breathing heavily, bleeding profusely, cursing mightily and arguing with my beloved as to whether or not I needed an ambulance. Years of experience as an ER nurse told me I didn't, but convincing someone who was about to puke from the sight of blood, expended way too much energy I didn't need to use. No broken bones, dislocated joints or ripped ligaments - just lots of blood, mucho pain and not a small portion of embarrassment. After dragging my sorry butt inside, I spent the better part of an hour patching myself up. Thanks to Diana's large supply of dressings for her esophageal feeding tube, there was plenty of first aid stuff on hand, and I fashioned two large and very impressive bindings for my wounds, only to have to change them an hour later after they bled through. No problem - as I said - plenty of supplies on hand! Pain was another issue - it was intense, searing and omnipresent and, even though I think of myself as having a very high tolerance for pain, I was reaching my limit. But, no way was I going to take any pain meds following the Jack Daniel's, so the only solution available to me was More Jack. Fortunately, dinner had been in simmer mode for quite some time, so I just dished it up, plopped it on the coffee table, put the ice bucket and bottles of Jack and Coke on the bookcase next to the sofa, Martin started up another NCIS rerun, and the next few hours passed relatively uneventfully. NCIS was it's usual riveting self (Mark Harmon makes me feel better even when I'm already feeling wonderful), the tacos were among the best I've ever made, and the Jack continued to go down smoothly. Bedtime came and went, totally obliviated from memory.

Yesterday was lost in a wash of pain, a monumental hangover, floating in a La-La Land of pain meds, fitful sleep with breaks for feeding cats, trying to figure out how to do those important little "life tasks" with my left hand, and drinking buckets of water to assuage the worst case of booze-mouth in memory.

Today, new stuff is starting to surface - stiff knees, sore hips, neck pain. I saw my chiropractor, who adjusted me to within an inch of my life. At the moment, I'm feeling surprisingly decent, all things considered, and can even raise my right arm high enough to feed myself. Every few hours I ice a different joint, and ultimately it all helps... I'm just glad the weather is warming up! I changed my dressings a while ago and they were a totally nauseating mess, but I'm seeing signs of drying out around the edges of the excoriations, so that's a good sign that the beginnings of healing are relatively close at hand.

Jack and I had a serious discussion this evening, and we've decided to separate for a while... he never was much good for me anyway, so it's probably for the best. He's a pretty persuasive guy, though, so I hope I can keep up my resolve...

Work In Progress... (or, Yet Another UFO)

I normally don't like to post pictures of an unfinished work, but I just wanted to let folks know I'm still out here and I'm still quilting. Due to playing nurse for several seriously ill felines over the past year, I've been almost totally out of circulation, and have barely had time to do any quilting at all. Over the past few months, Martin and I have finally gotten ourselves into a half-assed rhythm of cat care procedures, although we still haven't mastered the art of getting to bed before 3:00 a.m., so quilt guild meetings, classes, retreats and workshops are out of the question for now.... and, brother, do I miss them!! I have been able, though, to sneak into the studio for a little while every day and get back to work. I dislike working hit-and-miss and in itty-bitty chunks of time, but I'll take it if it's all I can get, and for now, that's the way it has to be.

This is "Ladies of Senegal 2", the second version of the original "Ladies of Senegal" which I made in 2002. I'm about 80% done with piecing the top, then will need a week or so to do the back (I almost always do a bit of fancy stuff on the back - no plain, one-fabric backs for me), then add another month or so to do the machine quilting... less, if I can start spending more time in the studio. Hopefully, it'll all be done by early May. I've never done a series before, but since the Ladies fabric was available in so many colors, I decided to give it a try. I have four more color ways of the Ladies, but they're all very small pieces of fabric - mostly fat quarters - so if I make any more versions, they'll be small wall hangings. That'll be fun, though, because with small pieces I can bring on the embellishments!

This is my fabric palette...
Working with just red, white and black has been challenging, but it's also been fun. I have another red/white/black piece in the quilting stage, but it's much smaller and went together much more quickly. Ladies 2 is going to be about five feet square, so it's involved a lot more dithering trying to make all the pieces work together.

Here's the original "Ladies"...

Happy Birthday To Me!!!

This is what my awesome husband gave me for my birthday last week. It was a totally unexpected, out of the blue, dropped from the sky, gift from The Goddess surprise. Decades ago, my very first car was a 1957 Thunderbird, and I've wanted another one ever since it went out of my life in 1964. When Ford introduced the Retro-Bird a few years ago, I was ecstatic... until I saw the price tag. But suddenly, right there before my eyes, in a tiny, obscure used car lot on Silverado Trail in Napa, there it was... the car of my lusts and dreams. In pristine condition, shiny, black, complete with portholes, and much more affordable than a few years ago! As we drove by the lot, I gasped and pointed breathlessly, my husband turned the Honda around and we went back to the lot, gave it a test drive, came home and talked about it all night, then went back up to Napa the next day and did the deed.

This has, unquestionably, been my best birthday gift ever!