New pov

Before any wayfinding, the starting place ~ gratitude.

This instant? Grateful that this ancient Win7 Acer booted up and gave me access to the only graphics program I ever spent any time learning. PSP5 still gets my banners done! 

But a warning to me to not allow skills to rust. Stay busy with a wider array of tools and objectives.

Do you think that banner is a sunset or a sunrise?

the need for change

We pulled over when we saw them on the hill.

 I  rolled down the window and honked out a passable donkey "Howdy!  They left off snacking and trotted right up to the fence. No reply but, the swiveling ears. I dub them Colorado and Maine.

The first week of winter break behind us, I'll have a long weekend at home and in the studio, then back to the county.

Change is in the air. I'd make a list, but that's the kiss of death. The things I've been thinking will come to life. 

Meanwhile, I'm spending this evening with Stanley Tucci looking for Italy in all the damned kitchens and restaurants. In Umbria, a squadra of women hunt boars.

 

Christmas, ever bitter sweet

 

A deep dive

 

I

I watched "Maestro". I'll wait a while before I comment on the film.

  

    We spoke once. 

     How many of you can recall how rich and immediate a human voice could be on the phone? Real phones connected by webs and switches of copper presided over by women. The Operators.

 

It was a dark early winter evening. Somewhere in Manhattan I connected a call. Three rings and a woman answered with a curt "Yes?" I sensed a secretary annoyed at having to work late. 

    "I have a person to person call for Leonard Bernstein." I pronounced it exactly like the caller had. 

   The woman said, "Who's calling?"

   That was none of her business because she wasn't Leonard Bernstein and this expensive service would not start earning for Ma Bell until the man himself was on the phone, but I had to be business like about it. 

    "Is Mr. Bernstein available?"

She got the message and clunked the handset down.

   I knew who he was to a point. In 1969 I had little musical interests beyond Led Zeppelin, Santana or the Stones. I had never heard his voice.

  

   "You got me out of the bath. This better be good." Wet or not, he lit a cigarette. His voice was thick and sexy.

    I go pro. "Mr. Bernstein?" 

 "Yes, my dear, put them on but I'd rather talk to you."

    

  How full of snappy comebacks do you think I was at twenty? Zip.

   As trained, I evaporated. Closed the switch, wrote down the time to the second, slotted the punch card, and took the next call. Smiling. 

holiday shopping - not

 

I went to the post office yesterday. Madness! You'd think they were giving away gold bricks instead of making you wait an hour to cough one up! I might go back in a day or two when people give up the illusion of stuff getting where it's going in time for Christmas.

As of today, you won't get any from me in time for Christmas gifting, especially this one which just might slither out of the inventory basket into my own stash. Devil, get behind me.

There are plenty more here and here.

😎And just now, something new. Fancy Bags until they are all gone.