Soothe, smooth, & salve

There's nothing like finding a lost tool to right an off-kilter day for me. I had given the little Ginghers up for lost, missing a month or more. 

The post office was busy and the parking lot was cramped. People pulling in and out of tight places, hurrying, but I am the person you curse at when I'm parking. Let's call it deliberate. 

I learned to drive on a huge, 1953 Chevy B210, thankfully, one of the first automatics. During the one or two ride-alongs before my road test, my father stressed smooth moves and signaling. Gas and brake as if the Queen of England was having tea in the back seat. Driving that way, in that old car - old even for the 70's - gave it dignity. Stand back as La Bamba oozes into view! I wish I had pictures of it. 

This day, I had to hit the brakes suddenly for some fuckery behind me and the little scissors slid out from under the driver seat. Glad to be in boots and not barefoot.

After a long, stressful day, and a late cup of coffee, I was looking forward to some writing time. There were clues to run down. Being in the mood for writing is not something to sneer at.

Salem is not a lap cat and will struggle violently if you try to cuddle her. Last night, she climbed onto my lap and lay across the keyboard before I could slide it out from under her. Nothing started, nothing lost.

I had The Bear on in the background and, even though I had strawberry shortcake for dinner, it made me hungry again.

After the morning from hell trying to book some last minute travel plans for Colin, an intriguing call took up another chunk of the day.

I hate to be coy here, but there may be an opportunity for a show with room for some of my major pieces in the future. A big space for some big work.

I spent the rest of the afternoon wondering what was where?

I loved Jude's birthday portrait. I'm finding that when one spends a lot of time alone, this is not a bad way to remember who you are.