I Love My New Shoes

............metal loops for the laces, zippers up the ankle......after so long without any money, when I got my check I fell to pieces with joy.  I just couldn't resist buying myself a present, even though I couldn't in any way afford it.

My future obituary

I am always intrigued by the obituaries I see in the paper that show the deceased as a young person and then as they looked when the grim reaper grabbed them. I decided to see what my own obituary would look like. The top one was taken the day I was married in 1969.  The bottom was taken a minute ago.  I tried to get myself in the same position (what a good job I did!).    When I was a young professional woman I wore make up, which is responsible for some of the difference.  I cared a lot about my hair, which is almost laughingly evident, whereas I now comb it only every few days and cut it myself when something gets out of line.  All in all, though, I can still see that young psychiatric social worker in the face I stare back at now.  There was a lot of trouble ahead that I did not foresee, and my face looks as smooth and untroubled as a baby's.  In the bottom picture I look tired and a little haggard, but I still have the same smile on my face.

I look good for almost 70.

Painting

So I haven't painted for awhile since I've been so consumed by money problems.  Today, though, I finally got up to the studio and went at it.  This is another painting inspired by a picture in the newspaper.  The minute I saw it I knew how I wanted to do it, with the huge foreground,  I tore it out of the paper and it has sat on the table for weeks, amidst all the other clutter that is always there.  As I was picking things up in an effort to tidy up before Carrie comes to visit tomorrow I unearthed the picture and immediately headed for my paints.  It was already after three, so the dogs were nervous about their supper.......and rightfully so.  I worked until almost 4:30 before I gave in to their pathetic faces.  The painting was almost done by then, and after I came back from walking them I finished it.  It's a rare painting that comes out just as I picture it, but this one pretty much did.  It would probably look better if I cut it in half ( it's 18x24) and discarded the bottom, but for now it will stay as it is.

The Coming of Fall

There's more than a hint of Fall...........it's cold and it gets dark by seven o'clock.  Out came the afghans, though they weren't far.  I hadn't got around to putting them away last Spring and they were still piled on a table in the hall after I washed them.  This particular one was a thrift store find, and Patrick is certainly comfortable on it.  I also have a huge one given to me by Thom....my favorite even though it has to be washed quite often.  It's white with pink and green roses.  Then I have one I made myself many years ago with a complicated crochet pattern, and yet another of Thom's, shades of blue and white granny squares.  They signify winter to me.  Every evening the dogs and I sit on the couch wrapped in these blankets watching TV.  It's the only time I am warm...probably the dogs, too. 

Right now the temperature in the house is 60 degrees.  Outside it's much colder.  My hands are stiff with cold as I type, in the familiar way of winter. Of course the days are still relatively warm.  I worked at the horse shelter without a jacket today.  The sun was out and there was no wind there in Perry.  Eastport is always colder this time of year, and often not as cold in the winter months because of the ocean's constant temperature.  The trees have not started to turn color yet here as they have on the mainland.  Fall lasts longer here, too...........again thanks to the ocean.

Strangely I don't seem to feel particularly negative about the coming cold and snow and ice. It.s still a  month or more away. It was only the sight of Patrick with the pillows and blanket, and the descending darkness. and the cold, that made my mind race ahead.  I like the changing seasons here.    Each year the world turns itself around, and here we see it.  We see the evidence of time passing, and the cyclical nature of things.  Every year there is a winter, but not the same winter, spring but not the same spring, summer not the same summer, and fall, not the same fall.   Our seasons are loud and raucous........they force us to have to adapt to a different way of life four times a year. 

And now, because it's Fall, I have to go out and close the hen house door.  My girls are vulnerable in the dark, and it is totally dark now.  I'll need a flashlight.

Not Going Crazy

 To distract myself from the turmoil surrounding me (which is slowly subsiding) I have been at my origami with obsessive vigor.  This is a mobile I made from a tree branch and paper cranes.  You can imagine I can now make a crane blindfolded.  I think I will add a few more on the right hand side.  Below them the flowers are still blooming.








When not making cranes, I am making flowers.  Practice makes perfect, and I certainly have practiced.  I'm not near perfection, but I can make a pretty good blossom if I do say so myself. 

 Then there is my little Willy eating his supper.  He eats in the living room behind a baby gate to prevent Patrick from attacking him and stealing his food.  The two of them are fine together unless there is food involved. 

After I felt I had conquered cranes and flowers, I opened my book on bugs, which is what I want to do eventually.  I succeeded in getting to step number eight out of 108.  After trying for an hour and a half to figure out number nine, I went to bed.  I spent the next two hours involuntarily visualizing the fold and trying to understand it.  I couldn't do it and finally fell asleep.  When I got up I closed the book.