Author: Sandy Webster

Monday morning the floor installers arrive with my new floor boards. The necessary quarter round (shoe molding) is all painted and waiting in the garage. Tomorrow I will move all things that I would rather they not wonder what to do with it, to safe and temporary spaces. As soon as a section of the floor goes in, they will move furniture back and I can replace whatever was there before. Simple, yes? I will need their help getting things off top shelves, but feel confident I  can sort the rest. No point in accepting extra help because that would just be more bodies and directions. I am planning on this studio being the last room to be shoved about.

In the meantime I thought I needed a rice cooker.

Just thought it would be a good idea. NOT! I am sure it is just one faulty appliance but the first attempt burned very badly and the second try with using another safe, recommended amount of rice and water resulted in it blurping out the steam hole and all over the counter. So back to Amazon. I will stay with the familiar pan on the stove method.

I think the story Scrabble the rat is mostly finished. It will be the same size as Burke and Wills. Some illustrations might fall a bit short of my expectations, but that is easily remedied by doing them over…again and again. Here is what I think will be the cover drawing and another from the story.

As you can tell by this next picture that I still try to get my Tuesdays in at the bar. Back to writing about Joey the librarian. It is like he is sitting there with me having a bit of pizza. This one is their Fungus one. Very good!

I am glad to see February over. Even though it snagged an extra day this year. I always thought it the most obstinate of all the months. It elbows its way in only to fling about extremes in weather conditions, and thinks because some idiot put Valentine Day in the middle of it, that all is okay. It’s not okay. It is a month of high hopes peppered with low expectations. It exaggerates each and every mood we get stuck with. I bet if there was a survey, people drink more alcohol in February and smile less. Now that March finally arrived, I have put a smile on my  face and swear that Spring is in the air.

Last week I saw the most amazing flock of red-winged blackbirds landing in the neighborhood. Up high, they looked like a swallows’ murmuration. The flashes or red and yellow wings in the sunlight was hard to capture with my IPhone. Speaking of my phone, the other day the remote for my TV simply refused to turn it on. So I used the button on the TV, but to no avail because the remote still would not make selections. So I googled the problem, did what it suggested…all three solutions and then called the TV people. They took me through the same solutions and came to the conclusion that the remote no longer works. I needed to order a new one. I asked how I could watch TV then. The nice lady took me through all the steps to make my IPhone a remote.

I am amazed that I could follow all her instructions and get an app on my phone for the TV to now have a separate remote until the mailman brings a new one.

There is not much else new. I feel distracted until the floor gets put in and everything is back where it belongs.

I have decided that I will clean out my garage this spring and give away more art supplies and things no longer needed. Funny how we think that “Surely, I will use that again” is just not being realistic. The two main reasons for getting rid of things is,

A. It is too hard and heavy to handle and

B. Those things we thought were necessary are no longer the tools we need for self expression.

Another thing I will do is go through my closet and pull out some of the clothes I made because I loved the cloth, and cut small swatches from them to add to the small scraps that are irresistible when a needle is threaded. I am giving myself over to the gentle arts of writing, stitching and drawing. All of them are wonderfully solitary and a pleasure to be involved with.

I did go with a friend to an art exhibit at a local college recently. The artist is a songwriter and performer as well. The characters in his paintings had a folk art quality and were reminiscent of Beavis and Butthead. I might be getting too old, but will certainly go to another one when it happens.

Okay, there is nothing else….it will be another week before I’m able to get to another blog.

Til then….

This past week I decided to stop waiting for the decision to be made as to when and if I get the necessary new flooring. The builder is waiting for the flooring company to be found liable for costs and I found myself just waiting. So, I decided to just pay for all of it, new and better flooring, and the labor getting it put down. Whenever the settlement comes through, they can reimburse some or all of my expenses. And with the decision made, new flooring is coming in later this week and hopefully being laid the following week. I will have to stay with the workers and empty the furniture that has to be moved, find a surface to put it on and then replace it all as each section of floor is finished to the point of getting the furniture back in place. I have photographed each piece that will require a heck of a lot of work! Like this:

Just the upper part of my liquor cabinet…down below are serving pieces and wines, etc. No flooring laborer can be expected to empty this and then get it all put back correctly.

And this! One wall in my studio. Each shelf has to be labeled as to where it goes back together because these all come apart to be moved and although each piece is similar, that does not mean they will fit….so I intend to label each and every one of them. The easier I can make this on the laborers and myself, the better. Sadie is holding down just one corner of my work table.

Quite an adventure that should be over in a couple of weeks.

I have a new cleaning lady who does the most amazing deep clean. After seven straight hours this past week, she agreed to return for four hours each month. She brings all her own tools and cleaning supplies. She even washed a few windows that she felt needed cleaning. I am lucky I found her, and am very happy she agreed to do my house.

The other day while meeting someone for lunch in town, I noticed this wall by the local hardware store. I found it beautiful and plan to do a walk around town when the weather is nicer to find other beauty in the ordinary.

I need to take a walk to the river but since they now mow the meadow down to just an inch or so, it is not so magical. No pretty weeds and flowers, no insects, no birds wandering about…nothing but dead grass between here and the river. A bit boring.

I missed my Manhattan time at the local bar last week because I had to meet up with an old friend from out west who is in the area teaching. A very good catch up over pizza and wine. Last night I cooked a less-than-very good meal for friends…burned garlic toast, rather stiff pasta with doctored up marinara, and a salad wilted in the fridge because it was left too long with its dressing tossed in. They kindly called it “wilted” lettuce salad and ate it all. We topped it off with store-bought biscotti and more red wine that they brought along. A good four hours of visiting.

Looking for interesting patterns, I shot this view by the front door.

Sadie spent the day in the sun today while I finished off a friend’s debut novel…a good page turner of art and murder in a small Appalachian town by Bradley Wilson.

Today I ordered a small rice cooker to help me make something different from heating up frozen pizzas and cooking eggs with spinach. Beans and rice for a change sounds good. In the meantime I am stuck finishing off last nights pot of leftover pasta with meatballs and doctored marinara.

Maybe pour myself a single malt and find some British program while sitting with my cats.

Til later…..

This week just flew by. I have all but the cover drawing finished for Scrabble’s Story.  Now I need to getting his story in easy reading words. Maybe tomorrow.

For now, I have this glass of Yellow Tail Jammy red wine. Yikes! It would have been very good dribbled over this morning’s breakfast.

There is a very dry frozen waffle under there. Colorful, isn’t it? And speaking of color, this was a dinner I fixed myself the other evening.

This is the year of the dragon. And Patsy from Australia sent me her linoleum printed one. She is so very talented with printmaking and other art media.  I am so happy with this and within ten minutes of getting it in a Happy New Year card, I had it framed and hanging with one of my own lino prints.

The other day I was cleaning out old but still very usable purses to take with shoes to the recycle center. I found a spiral notebook that was small enough to fit in a wallet. Evidently it went with me several years ago on a trip to Australia. I wrote this observation down as soon as I could slip off to the bathroom while the thought was still “warm”.

In Australia the voices ride over each other

never in a straight line.

Only when they become “soft”

do you know something “important” is coming.

Sometimes I think that I am missing the best parts.

Some of the women are like vocal automatons –

they come into a conversation and just speak.

Is it a planned attack on the existing conversation?

Those who were speaking stand no chance

of returning to what they were talking about.

All is forgiven with an air kiss and hug.

There are no pauses whatsoever.

Amazing to be among these “conversations”.

Today my new house cleaner and I interviewed each other. She has an accent of some place far, far away. She found my house and its things quite interesting. She will take special care of them. It will take her a couple of trips here to get the deep cleaning done to her satisfaction. She pointed out cobwebs in places I never look, gave me some cleaning tips on what supplies to not use because of damaging chemicals and demonstrated how a furniture beeswax polishes stainless steel better than specialized cleaners made for that purpose. Next week is her first day of digging in. And she loved my cats who chose not to scamper into the closet when she came into the same room. Perfect. She will be my monthly cleaning lady.

My financial advisor came this week and brought along his assistant. I consider her (the assistant) to be his interpreter for me. I keep a big basket of what I think is essential and when she comes, between rewording whatever he is trying to get into my head and making phone calls to make funds more profitable, she goes through it (the basket) to sort what I need to take to the income tax lady, what needs to be saved for the seven year obligation, and what I should shred. Most of the following day was spent shredding. It takes them four hours to drive here, get me sorted over the next two hours and then four hours back. Lovely. He keeps asking if I want to do anything special, take a trip, buy something, maybe a new car? But no, I am fine. I told him I was getting a cleaning lady and might take myself out to dinner more often. He sighed and said, “Good”.

I still head to the bar to write and have that Manhattan. Instead of getting back to Joey, the librarian, I wrote this.

Tuesday

Back in the bar

pizza ordered, Manhattan brought over.

Pen in hand over this large pad

that is waiting for words.

 

So am I.

 

Easy jazz vocals are overhead.

A couple sits at the bar

both on their devices, probably not in love

but probably were.

 

So was I.

 

And I write about the moments

I am living now. 

the ones I need to remember

about being here, being aware

 

Being alive

 

I’m waiting and watching

to see if there is anything,

anyone more important 

than this.

 

No. It’s Tuesday.                       

                                                S. Webster

 

That should do it for today. More another day.

Til then…..

 

 

 

 

A beautiful sky overhead the other evening.

My neighbors told me when I showed them this picture to just walk through their side yards to get the views without rooftops. I will do that next time. I miss the skies with trees and no buildings at my old place. It is about the only thing I miss.

Earlier this week I had a dental appointment in Murphy, so took a walk on the river there.

I expected to see some bits of green on the branches…but too early. And not one duck or goose on the river. Just a crow taking a bath.

This weekend is supposed to be rainy, so I will bake, make soup, write and draw.

It was exciting to have friends come and take me to lunch the other day. We went to a restaurant I seldom go to now. It is an okay place and they offer the only sweet potato fries in town. What made this trip especially nice was the older, Latina waitress who stopped in her tracks to say how good it was to see me again. I remembered her quite well. She had stopped to say how pretty she thought I was about five years ago. Whoever says things like that to older woman showing their age should be remembered. She paused to say how well she remembered me. How I always came in on Sunday mornings with my husband to have breakfast. She said, “You always wanted waffles with pecans added, and your husband only wanted eggs over medium with hash browns, bacon and toast. You sat two booths from where you are now. How is your husband?” I told her he passed away last year. She was sorry to hear that. Then she asked, “Do you still have that pretty green car?”

I continue to go to poetry readings. Thursday I read one about how we seem unable at times to read body language. How maybe someone just does not care to listen to what others are saying…how they don’t look and notice how much you do not want to pay attention, and how you are worrying there will be a test later on to catch you up, and expose how little attention you were paying while you waited to go back inside yourself.

I wrote this poem the other evening when I was sure I was going back to visit Joey, the librarian. Maybe he and I can get reacquainted this weekend. Hopefully he will have more to say.

 

There is no title yet and I am not sure it is finished…but I do like it.

 

I feel stuck in the cracks

of becoming someone else.

Yesterday I was funny

and I laughed.

I told funny stories and was entertaining.

 

Today I am not stepping 

up and out of the greyness,

a comforting fog

that lets me be 

how I need to be for now.

 

No one asks if I am okay

because I don’t let them 

close enough to tell 

if I have fallen short

of who they think I am.

 

I breathe in these cracks

and think about how much

that means 

breathing

taking in only the the air needed

to pause and just breathe.

S. Webster

 

 

Think it is time to post this and take a walk.

Til later…..