Yes, the sun came out. It didn’t stay long, but its presence was so exciting I ran for the camera.
I cropped this photo to look like an ancient Celtic burial site. It’s actually the path to Will’s fire pit.
I think we need to have a campfire and sacrifice some marshmallows to the Sun God. Seven days of rain is enough rain, don’t you think?
I saw my thighs today.
Something bad happened over the winter. They didn’t look like this last September. I guess when I officially turned 60 my thighs turned to cottage cheese and rippled up like potato chips.
No, I don’t want to think about potato chips.
I thought 2+ years of biking on a machine EVERY FREAKIN’ DAY would give me Thighs of Steel. Thighs of Granite. Thighs Like An Olympic Speed Skater.
This was not true. In fact, it’s a mean, dirty lie.
I saw my thighs today, in the evil mirror of a dressing room while trying on a pair of jeans. I was stunned. These were not my legs. I certainly didn’t expect to see the thighs that sported a cute pair of brown velvet “hot pants” in 1970, but these weren’t even the thighs of last summer.
I saw my thighs today, in this 1978 photo. The upside is I’m not changing diapers, baking bread or pitting cherries anymore. But I might look for a pair of vintage Dr. Scholl leg-shaping sandals on ebay. I could wear them on the exercise bike and pretend all this exercise is working.
Hail Monday afternoon.
Monday evening: sky at My French Friend Janou’s house.
Poker Monday night.
I won $1.75.
My gambling New Orleans grandmother would have been proud.
Note: this post was mistakenly published a few days ago when I hit the wrong button and didn’t realize it until the following morning, so you might be reading this twice and getting very confused and suffering severe deja vu. Do not be upset. It’s not your fault and there is nothing misfiring in your brain cells. I’m posting this now because it is Tuesday night and I hustled off to bed at 8 PM while the guys did the dishes. After a glorious day of music lessons and shopping-for-a-shower-gift in town, my Rowing Machine Injury flared up and, instead of showing you photos of yesterday’s hail storm and poker game, I am going to read for 30 seconds before crashing to sleep with “Rollin’ In My Sweet Baby’s Arms” repeating over and over again in my brain.
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We saw Nanci Griffith April 23rd. With the same good friends we’d seen her with about 20 years ago in Boston (though none of us could remember the year exactly).
It was wonderful. She was wonderful, with that unique voice and Texas accent and beautiful songs. “Never Goin Back” was one of my favorites of the evening. I especially liked the harmony on the chorus.
If you have a few minutes, enjoy.
Song list from Sunday night:
Sunday night band practice has become an important—very, very important—part of the weekly routine here in the mountains.
Banjo Man and I had heard about Sunday night band practices. So twenty-one hours after we landed in Spokane, we (including Steel Guitar Man, also known as GL) were loading up our instruments and bowls of Black Bean Salad (with avocado lime dressing, recipe from Whole Foods, btw, but it really needs a lot more lime juice and cilantro) and music and microphone cord and amplifier and heading up the hill.
It was an event. The room was rockin’. Horns, mandolins, steel guitar, bass guitar, snare drum, recorder, keyboard, washboard, harmonica and accordion!!!
After we played for two or three or sixteen hours, we’d worked up an appetite. So we ate chicken and homemade pizza and garlic bread, brussel sprouts, black bean salad and whatever else the band members and Retired Mountain Lady/Keyboard Player put in front of us.
Retired Mountain Lady makes wine. Peach wine. PEACH WINE.
We drank some. It was so good I wanted to lick the bottle. I could have blamed my behavior on jet lag, but no one in this crowd would have believed me.
Dancing Mandolin Player brought desserts. Desserts, plural. Strawberry rhubarb pie and a fruit tart.
As my father used to say, “Life is good.”
and more packing…this time trying to fit all of our groceries into the compact car.
There are a lot of beans and vegetables in those grocery bags. Plus a bag of chocolate chips.
Uh-oh. Looks like they found the chocolate chips!!
We don’t know what kind of car we rented last night. So we call it the “Chevy Something”. It’s quite spiffy.
Tonight we are going “up the hill” for our first band practice with the new sound equipment. The band has been practicing every Sunday night since January, when the sound equipment arrived. I heard rumors of a pot luck supper and some wine-tasting, too.
Music and food!! Is there anything better???!!!
Until last weekend, I’d never seen a “naked man quilt” before.
As I told Banjo Man, I’ve never had the desire to make a quilt depicting his nude body. Or my own. Or anyone else’s. Some things shouldn’t be transferred to fabric.
In my humble opinion.
Saturday was the national Machine Quilting Expo in Providence, another yearly excursion, this time with Ruth.
Remember Ruth?
The quilt displays are always intriguing and arty and involved and complicated and amazing. There are also tons of vendors–fabric, threads, longarm machines, beads, buttons, lighting, gadgets, rulers, irons, etc.–but this year there weren’t as many. Either fewer people are sewing/quilting, or there is much less money to splurge on fabric and supplies.
I haven’t bought fabric in over a year. And have done very little sewing this winter. With 20+ quilt tops waiting to be quilted, I really don’t need to make any more until I get caught up, which could be well into 2019. My daughter-in-law is still patiently waiting for her wedding gift, which is 95% quilted and needs a binding…four years after the wedding.
So I didn’t buy anything. Not. A. Thing.
I took pictures, though. Here are some “not nude” quilts, a little eye candy for this morning:
I so loved this book.
Today I told my French Friend Janou about it–no details, just that I loved it–and she ordered it for her I-pod. Technology is a grand thing.
I originally ordered it from my public library upon a recommendation from Sharon, my Massachusetts lawn-mowing-in-pink-socks friend. Sharon runs the childrens’ book section of her library’s used bookstore (a very cute little white house) and is always on the lookout for good books to read. She has piles and piles of them around her house, which I admire very much, being a “if you love something get a lot of it” kind of person.
Before I talked to Janou, I went to my local used bookstore to see if I could find a copy of SUCH A PRETTY FACE to share with my friends. No luck.
I’m not going to tell you anything about it because it will sound like something it’s not, but you will love the heroine. Keep reading past the first scene (childhood flashback) and let me know what you think!
SPIDER BITE UPDATE: Janou saw something on tv about a woman who was bit by a brown recluse spider and has to have a skin transplant on her ear, so she was worried about my “bite”. The bite/bruise is much better and doesn’t hurt as much. My skin is all in one piece. (I have a wicked backache, but I’m pretty sure that’s from the rowing machine!) 🙂
Oh, yeah, this is so me.
[photo from http://www.crossfitfriendswood.com]
A couple of Fridays ago I attended the Sew Expo in Worcester, an annual girlfriend day that over the past three years has become a three-generation event. Little “K-K” is not yet three years old and attended–with her mom– for the third year in a row.
Her grandmother (“Meme”, also known as Harley Chick)…
…is raising her up right. She likes to touch the fabrics, collect brochures, attend the fashion shows and ogle the buttons & sequins. She also likes red quilts with diamond patterns. Imagine being two years and eleven months old and already distinguishing quilt designs????
This sweet and gorgeous child is a genius. Honorary Auntie MorePie was so impressed.
After the Expo and lunch, we hunted down a fabric store a few miles south. According to research, this place had $1.99/yard fabric. Sure enough, the GPS led us to an old ugly windowless building with a metal door and chipped cement steps. And sure enough, “$1.99 FABRIC” banners hung from the outside walls.
We heard a frightened little voice from the back seat say, “I think I’ll just wait in the car.”
After we stopped laughing, we assured her it would be prettier on the inside.
On the way home we stopped at Dunkin Donuts to use the bathroom, but “K-K” hustled over to the counter and told the cashier, “I”ll have a coffee. And a sandwich.”
This kid knows her way around. I love it.
Fourth of July
Glen the Banjo Man
LIVE at the Dump
is there any more pie? 