I guess I have traveled, in my mind and heart, long enough now to know I prefer painting to any other method. If I had access to a printing press then I would resume my love affair with etched metal plates. And I will always have a threaded needle close at hand. These truths are self evident.
In my Jo Nesbo book, last night, I came across a few lines that brought tears to my eyes. "as we age and replace our fathers, we step into their lives". Spoken from a male perspective, but it could also read "as we replace our mothers, we step into their lives". I have read or heard this sort of thing before, as in, as you grow older you become your mother. I don't want to become my mother or my father. So late last night, as I read this, I sat and looked for evidence that I was becoming my father. Reclusive. Paranoid. Cheap. Hoarder. But he had friends and a social life until he couldn't get around due to his health. He was always working on fixing something. Always busy. Always ready to try something new: recipes mostly. There are good things here to work from. This is giving me something to think about and consider.
G has taken the truck in for servicing. Taken the dog out for a walk in the woods. Has likened my new haircut to Urkel's. The temperature outside is cooler, cloudy with a breeze. I will go out into the garden to check on things and pick squash and tomatoes. My hair stylist has given me the recipe for Greek Cole Slaw which has an oil and vinegar dressing and includes oregano, dill, cucumber, green pepper and cherry tomato and feta along with the thinly sliced cabbage. She says it is good for breakfast, lunch, dinner (?). I think the cucumber and tomato will make it very wet. I do have a nice beef chuck roast in the freezer. I like pot roast with mashed potatoes and cole slaw. And BBQ with cole slaw. And I can just eat raw wedges of the cabbage.
The floors need my attention today. (my new Apple computer has this voice that tells me when things "need my attention") It would be funny if, in future, the oven, fridge and dishwasher had these "voices" to tell me that "the dishwasher needs your attention". Then I might not leave the oven on all afternoon because I forgot to turn it off after baking something.
G is turning on the dog washing hose, so Riley must have gone into the mud puddle on the walk. That dog! Loves that stinky cold mud. The floors need my attention.
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