Requiem for The Truck

 Alas! The truck runneth no more! This IS a sad state of affairs as not only do we really rely on the truck for transportation and hay pick-ups and carrying artwork but he was a good friend. I really like driving the truck- a very physical experience and entirely different from driving the car!- but he was utterly reliable. Last winter when it was sub-zero and the car refused to start, the truck turned right over and delivered us to the train station so that I could get to NYC and be a famous artist. And you have to agree that despite a few rusty panels, he was good looking. I seriously thought the truck would outlive the car, as Bob drives infrequently. It has less mileage than the Honda!

Also, finding a suitable replacement has proven tough. All the Ford F150's being made now are: extended cab, short bed, four wheel drive, automatics... and plug ugly to boot! (Well, I guess we could ignore the ugly part: they seem to make trucks now with this weird snouty look.) Bob and I both like the above classic sort of square front.

So we keep looking. Here's a rear shot of the nice long bed:

I've been stressed out over the truck ordeal. It was one of those unexpected  blows that the universe delivers just when you think things are going well. And it takes time and coordination and money to get all the stars aligned to find a replacement. I'm going to go light a few sage-infused truck shaped candles and hope that the gods of the automotive under world smile upon our house.

In Which I Have (Probably) Broken My Toe

The picture says it all. OOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
Yesterday was a ripely f%&ed up day, all along. Small- and large- things kept messing up, misfiring and generally wreaking mayhem with my life and the lives of others. Believe me: I wasn't alone in this!
But anyway, I was attempting to listen for thunder out of our office window when my foot- apparently little toe first- connecting in a convincing fashion with (get this!) the frame of one of my drawings! Yes, art can be dangerous!! I generally wander around the house shod in sneakers or boots as I have stepped on all kinds of nasty, pointy, sharp or gooey things and prefer proper foot protection. But it was so hot last night, and I had been casually reclining in bed reading, so it was with vulnerable bare feet that I went into the office.
I slept with my foot elevated and ice applied. Bob constructed a bolster between us so that he would not accidentally bang into my foot during the night. Boy that sucker hurts!
I called in sick to work today. I can't stand on my foot in any realistic manner and there is only one pair of crappy old running shoes that I can effectively house my toe in. My job entails me being upright for 96% of the day and that was out of the question. I am elevating and icing even as we speak...
The weirdest thing is that I was talking to my good friend Louise on Sunday. She was seriously in pain because she had messed up her toe by running it into the wooden leg of a large hassock that they have! Now we're sisters! And speaking of sister, come to think of it, my sister Cathy broke her toe last month! what is this? The Moon must be in the phase "Broken Toe"! Please be careful...
I remember doing almost exactly the same thing to my foot (the same one) in New Haven years ago. Yes, that time I went to the doctor. You know what he did? He taped my little toe to the toe next to it and called it "the buddy system" and said there really wasn't anything else they can do. So... "Buddy System" here I come!

Trip to New York

The above pictured blueberry pancakes- made with blueberries from our bushes!- will grace this post about our trip to NYC. Bob and I simply refuse to drag the camera along, and seeing as we have the original "Not-So-Smart phone", we couldn't take pictures even if we wanted to. Besides, is it not more Zen to "be here (or there) now" and experience the present? Anyway...
You may remember that Bob and I almost made it to NYC the previous week. But monstrous weather in the form of torrential rain and thunder changed our plans. Besides, I mused, in an opening with 111 artists, would they really miss me? So we stayed home and had our own splendid "opening".
But Saturday was a lovely day for a trip: warm, dry and perfect. We missed a train in the morning by like 2 minutes as we encountered road construction, but we were under no time restraints we caught the next train and had many interesting adventures, including exploring an area of Bushwick (Brooklyn) that we'd never encountered before. We took an elevated train to get there which afforded a great view back to Manhattan. We looked in on two (tiny) outpost galleries and saw some magical work. And then on to Odetta to schmooze with art dealers (hello Ellen!) and meet another of the three million, five hundred and twenty two artists that wish to show their work. I can't keep track anymore. An interesting discussion of the vagaries of the art press, how hard it is to secure collectors, etc etc- the typical conversations between artists.

(Isn't that a charming succulent? Looks like green twigs.)
And then it was off to the Manhattan to encounter my small offering in the show "Going Big" at Central Booking, an artist's book gallery. Strangely, I was the only artist to submit a book; I was alone in a sea of small paintings (largely abstract) and a few sculptures, But kudos to Suzan and Susan the curators! It was a really attractive show and well hung! I was more than happy as sometimes these huge shows are hung "salon style" (stacked up cheek by jowl) but this show had space between pieces and was remarkably harmonious.
Bob and I then repaired to an Indian restaurant on 6th Street that we have literally been going to for years. It was much the same, with crazy dollar store strings of light blinking and miniature flags of many nations blowing in the air conditioning and Indian pop music blaring. A feast for all the senses. I was glad we made it to the restaurant as we haven't been in that neighborhood for ages and Bob was eager to eat Indian food there again.

 (That one's cute, too! This is some sort of sedum, with a coreopsis photobombing behind...)
Wefinished the evening by missing the train home by three minutes; sort of a reverse repeat of the morning train episode) and had to wait as after 7:00 or 8:00 on weekends, the trains only run once an hour. Thank goodness that Bob and Is till seem to have things to talk about. It was a really nice trip and artistically productive, as in good feedback from past admirers and a new one too. Sometimes, I actually enjoy my trips into NYC...

Touching the Fence

 A new garden is born! I have been meaning to begin developing a serious shade area, as opposed to a small cluster of shade plants at the end of one bed. And for my birthday, I received a new hosta (Sum and Substance) and that was that! I began digging... (Doesn't look like much yet, but you'd be surprised at how many weeds and junk I pulled out. And rocks! Here's just a partial sampling:

The area that I selected for positioning the shade garden is majorly infested with poison ivy. While I have been careful (whatever that means) I invariably develop at least one case of what can only be deemed "heroic" poison ivy every year. Here's this year's offering! And of course, it's during the hottest, stickiest time of the summer, when I'm already crabby and battling evil weather. Like last Thursday. Bob and I were supposed to go to New York for a show that I am in. "Supposed to" being the operative words. Sanity prevailed as half way to the train station, I asked Bob if he thought it was totally stupid to be going into New York with storms threatening and it being just generally polluted and nasty out. We decided to not go and the skies did open and we missed nothing, except my being in an opening with 110 other artists. I'm delighted to be in the show, but feel like a minute carbuncle on the ass of the art world. Or should I capitalize that? ART WORLD. Carbuncles? You want to talk carbuncles? Just look at my arm...

 

So today I was in a foul humor, despite having several great art ideas on my morning ramble with Jules. I spent several productive hours in my studio, and still I feel sort of at odd ends. It might have been the tremendous thunder storm that we had last night. It woke both Bob and I with one of the loudest claps of thunder I have ever heard. So my present joke is about "touching the fence". You may remember that several months back, I was having a terrible day. Nothing seemed to be going well, I was out of sorts and just not my usual chipper Little Miss Sunshine self. And then I accidentally touched Maggie the Horses' electric fence. Hey Presto! It was as if a jolt from the sky re-routed my personal misaligned electrical field because everything was fine after that. (Perhaps it was a mild form of electro shock therapy?) Anyway, my standing joke now is that if the day sucks... go ahead: touch that fence!