Catching Up With the Natural World

While the weather wasn't anywhere nearly as dire as predicted, there was still a lot of rain. Our stream actually played at featuring a waterfall. Bob has been dragging old logs out of the stream and rearranging some larger stones to create a walk way bridge (in place of the metal ladder than inelegantly straddles he stream now). But the stream had other ideas this morning and bolstered by the rains of last night, there was a respectable rushing and swelling of foamy white caps as it over topped the wall. The stream has been low this year, so this was a nice change. Very dramatic!
Here's another shot, further down stream, with a much wider channel than is typical:

It's funny. I spend more time with our stream further up the road on my morning walk. Bob's studio is right near this part of the stream, so he checks on it every day and reports to me on what's up with the wonderful world of water.
Both Jules and Maggie were outside today far more than I wanted to be, I kept visiting Maggie and offering her nice dry hay in her nice dry barn, but she wanted to eat and run outside. And roll. She now resembles a large chocolate covered turtle. It will be loads of fun trying to clean her off tomorrow morning! She had leaves and twigs in her mane and tail and looked like a woodland sprite. A fine mess!

Yes, that's hay in her forelock. She enjoys pulling her hay out of the rack, tossing it in the air and wearing half of it. What a gal!
And not to be outdone, Jules moved just as I was taking his picture, so here he is: very wet and for some reason his tongue is sticking out. (Or maybe that's one of his pink and white balls that got run over by the lawn mower. Whatever.) He also smelled like the proverbial "wet dog".

Not a nice day for pictures! No one looked their best; I'm certain I didn't. But here's one more picture for good measure, referencing the previous post about what we stick in our mouths:

Doesn't look so great now, does it? Just something about raw meat... but just wait until Bob cooks it!

Round Things

Here's what I'd like to be doing: insulating my studio, especially with the wind howling and there being a dusting (still too much!) of snow on the ground. It would give the illusion of warmth... But we're waiting on window treatments (there is still plastic in the openings) as our good friend Joe has been otherwise occupied. Also, I need to locate where I want outlets and switches as electrical work needs doing before wall surfaces get covered. Bob calls me anxious and impatient; I think I'm enthusiastic and eager!
In the meantime, here are the unusual things that (some of us) stick in our mouths:

Lovely packaging! I think that's what compelled Bob to put these in the shopping basket at the Chinese grocery store. Here's what I liked, on the reverse of the package:

I know that I go out of my way to procure foodstuffs that require "oxygen absorbers" (and their accompanying warnings!). Also, the advisement regarding artificial colors is thoughtful. I carefully monitored Bob's behavior post-consumption to see if he exhibited hyperactivity, or difficulty operating machinery after he ate 1 and 7/8s of these little puppies. You will notice that I did indeed give the green blob the ol' college try. Check out the interior:

I guess the confection itself is sort of "cute" but it's guts are this weird brown. And consistency? Like a large gush-y caterpillar and it tasted like soap! Bob is certainly a more adventurous eater than myself and he finished my portion as well as his own. He even made vague comments as to how it was "interesting" and "not too bad".  ("Go right ahead", I volunteered, "There are four more and they're all yours!" How often does that happen in our house when discussing dessert? Like never!) I am certainly an advocate of trying new things, I simply don't believe that you have to finish everything on your plate. But let's be honest: it's entirely personal what to eat or not eat. Bob runs from the room when I start to eat (vast quantities) of raw cookie dough. Yum!

A Stitch in Time

Always nice to start the blog posting off with a cliche, right? This, unfortunately, is one of those tales of good intentions run amuck. Alas.
I have been delaying getting the last three stitches removed from my eye. I know, that sounds crazy  but consider that my present health insurance is so bad, so evil that I can never achieve my deductible, hence I have to pay all costs incurred. For instance, every time I went to get three or so stitches removed, I was being charged almost $300. If I had ten stitches... you can do the math.
I was hoping to be able to muddle along with the remaining three intact until January when the Obamacare/Affordable Care Act kicked in for me. The stitches were (apparently) holding up okay, but I had suffered several blood vessel ruptures and irritations, no doubt due to the remaining stitches. So on Tuesday, after seeing my eye all red again, I decided I'd better get them out. Yale said I could be seen in the afternoon.
This time, instead of my cornea surgeon removing the stitches (and she's great!) the resident comes in. He explains that Dr. Chow will see me- after he extracts the stitches. I suppose I should have politely said, "No thank you; I'll wait for the higher ups". But this is a teaching hospital and instead I complied.
First of all, I had an utter skeeve out moment when he comes straight at me with this giant pair of eye pulling pliers. I'm generally made of tougher stuff, and let's face it, I've had lie a hundred people run around in my eye, but I actually kind of shuddered. (I think they're supposed to sneak up on you sideways, past your blind spot so that you don't freak out). The resident told me to please try and hold still. I said, "Look sonny, I don't even know you and you're walking all over my eyeball with yet another sharp insturment". But I allowed him to proceed. I also chanced to add to him that despite my eye being numbed, I sorta felt like there was a little prickly sensation on my eye lid. He maintained that that was due to his "rooting around". Made sense to me although I think you can see where this is going...
I was dismissed and Bob and were in a celebratory mood as my eye was stitch free after almost three years. Except that night as we were looking at something on the Internet, I confessed to Bob that my eye was really uncomfortable and I suspected there was a bit of stitch remaining.
I woke up with my eye nicely pink, puffy and watery but went to work anyway, figuring that maybe I'd give it a day to subside. Instead, I was forced to wear sunglasses all day at work not only because my eye was so photo-sensitive and squinchy, but I looked utterly miserable. You start feeling like maybe you're wrong and just being a weeny as they've told you everything looked good. But I knew that feeling; as if my eye were nauseous. Really low-grade gross!
Needless to say, I re-called Yale and they got me in to see (yet another) doctor as mine was conveniently at a conference. They took looks- another intern, a resident, two doctors and a technician (everyone wants to see Rita's poor eyeball!) and I was vindicated: CONFIRMED! a tiny end of a stitch remained- enough to cause serious discomfort. It was successfully removed, I felt immediate relief and alls well that ends well, I guess! But it does serve to bolster the odd idea that you attempt to do something good (ie; remove those final stitches) and someone else does something that makes everything worse (leaves a bit of nylon in your eye). I know, there really is no lesson here at all, other than my eyes fine, if a bit tired from all the attention.

Historic

This is my cell phone, or more appropriately, I should refer to it as my "cellular device" as it is truly historic. I affectionately address it as my "dumb phone" when someone asks if I am interested in "apps" for my "smart phone". It may not do any of the sexy things that newer phones do, but maybe I don't want it to. I really have no interest in being constantly within reach of nonsensical calls- especially while seeking solitude or peace (like when I'm in my studio, or on my morning walk. Although I do leave my cell phone on when on my walk so that if the occasional marauding bear or pervert approaches me, I can dial 911.)
Last week at a pre-holiday cocktail party (thank you, Ted Hine), I got talking with several people about communications. I pulled out my phone- a real conversation stopper! It got ooohhed and aahhhed over as if it were a wonderfully arcane device. I demonstrated that it actually works: I can turn it on and place calls. I suppose I could even text if I could remember what my sister showed me, but it's tedious and for "c"'s and "f"'s you have to push that button three times. Why bother? The audience was also touched by it's tiny antenna- apparently also a thing of the past. And there is that pathetic bit of tape holding the panel on...
I will admit that I bought (also from my sister) a slightly newer model cell phone; it has a flip case. But have I had the time or the energy to contact the phone company to transfer my old phone account to my new phone? (I find calling utility companies exhausting and infuriating-making.) I also have the best sweetheart deal with Virgin Mobile and only pay $5 a month. I don't want that to increase!
I am sometimes mildly envious of friends that have miraculous ipads and tablets and are taking pictures and locating where they are and receiving tweets from Justin Bieber all while attempting to find and show me some ridiculous photo of their child vomiting grape juice. Technology is great, especially when employed in the service of utter silliness. I keep reminding people that in other countries, people are recording history and organizing revolutions and saving lives with smart phones. Here we photograph the next pair of shoes we hope to score.
My cell phone; I think I'll keep it.

A-Door-able

And yes! I realize that there is blue painter's tape all over the panes of glass! It took soooooooooooo long to prepare to put a finish coat on: First I had to brush off all the loose paint. Then I had to wash the panes of glass so the painter's tape would stick. And then I applied the varnish coat (so as to retain the lovely layers of patina gracing the door.) I decided to leave the tape in the photos to remind me of the labor involved.(Actually, the blue tape looks pretty jaunty.) The day had started just great, warm and sunny and I shed my sweater shirt and started preparing the windows. By the time I was starting to paint on the varnish, there was this wicked cold wind and clouds had obscured the sun. I hope the finish dries okay. But every step makes the studio feel more like "home". The door still (obviously) needs trim boards around the frame, but the hinges are on and it works! Windows are next on the agenda.

And as a total surprise, my very thoughtful sister Beatrice presented me with a lovely bouquet. I thought she was giving to Mommy, but Beatrice says, "It's for you and Bob and you 25th non-anniversary". That was really a great treat. It's a very cheerful arrangement, and still looks terrific, even a week later.

Behind Door Number One...

For those of you who weren't here for dinner the other night, here's a picture of my (small) side studio door. It's actually installed and framed and working!

Here it is from the inside, looking out. (The plastic opening to the left of the door will be my only vertical window). I'm so thrilled; every completion, no matter how big or small, gets me closer to having a studio... and a studio that I designed with windows and doors where I wanted them.
Here's a wider overall studio interior shot:

Our friend Roberta remarked the other night that the vertical striping of studs and the black tar paper made a pleasant pattern. she also observed how good the new lumber smell is! Next stage is the other, double French door- and then real windows.