We were missed - updated

 

Back from the country, the cats spent the day letting me know they were peeved with my absence, but Charlie's brief visit was welcomed. He is warily gentle with them.

They have a pair of guinea pigs now, but I don't think they have a lot to offer beyond learning how much care goes into keeping caged animals safe and healthy. 

He wants to have two cats, but that is not my call so he gets to enjoy visiting with mine. 

We spent a lot of time talking. He wants to know what life and the world were like when I was his age. We are time travelers flitting back and forth between now and then.

Home now, I have a weekend to breathe and relax before I get back to the adulting stuff.  Since I quit the day job,  I find it's good to pay attention to the weekend otherwise the days all run together.

I'm not getting out enough and will have to attend to that. 

Georgia's gray and wet winter is delivering. Chores out of the way, I chill. 

Moments after I typed this, Jake called asking me to come fetch him and Charlie. There had been a  wreck. Everyone was cleared by EMTs on the scene. His truck looked pretty bad. I got to them in a half hour and waited there for Missy to come take them the rest of the way home. Life turns on a dime.

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.