A Bruise is a Bruise is a Bruise

Isn't she lovely? Don't ask me where I got a thigh shiner from!
Yesterday, I spent the morning planting and then shopping and then planting again. This entailed at least four wardrobe switches. I change my clothes a lot; I will not go to the store in gardening clothes (as discussed previously, I am a slob and attract mud and filth. Alas.)
So you would have thought I would have seen the above blight on the milk white loveliness of my upper leg... but no! I was changing (for the fourth or fifth time) when I spied what I thought was mud. But it didn't wipe off and in the harsher light of the bathroom, I thought it saw it was discolored and pretty damned gross. I immediately thought of my friend Laurie who had a gigantic bruise appear on the back of her knee and it got all infected and awful and her doctor put her on antibiotics and said it was probably a Brown Recluse Spider bite! I immediately thought, "WTF!!! We're going away to new Bedford for three days and I'll probably wake up in the middle of the night sweating and feverish and hallucinating because I've been poisoned by some infernal arachnid!!!"
So I asked Bob to look at it and he agreed that it was pretty horrific and didn't scoff when I asked him to accompany me to the new medical walk in clinic that opened up the road. I was relieved that he didn't say, "For what? Your leg doesn't look that bad" (which would have made me feel like an alarmist or hypochondriac) but alarmed that he shared my concern. (Which made me more alarmed!)
To end this tale quickly, I'll say the doctor on call at the clinic took one look at my thigh and said, "Looks like a big bruise to me". She then asked my if I'd blacked out recently, to which I demurred- I think I'd remember that! But I also admitted that whether at work or home, I tend to run around and move heavy things (like tables, picture frames, hay bales, wheel barrows and the like) and even run into them. So we agreed that's probably what occurred to cause the above contusion.
But it was still a mystery! I guess I could have done it earlier in the week at work, where "the management" seems to delight in leaving large, heavy items of furniture in doorways, often with pointy ends and edges sticking out at just about thigh level. In any event, it looks better and it is fading to an attractive yellowish purple (with a hint of blue) and it doesn't feel raised up or hot so I think I'll live. And we had a lovely time in Massachusetts where I managed to get to the Cape for the first time in my life!

Now Who's the Snowflake?

For those of you who were unable to attend the NYC art world event of the season, here's a few highlights. (Yes, they are screen shots from a few friends albums on Facebook- thank you Roberta, Phillip and Yolanda!) because I/we were too busy schmoozing and chatting up the room to take pictures (or even oversee the taking of pictures). It was packed with admiring friends and art fans and I was quite happy. Many good friends traveled from the wilds of Connecticut; I am astonished at their love and support!

And here are people that I DON"T KNOW, looking at (and gesturing to) my art work. Yowzah! That's great! I received a lot of positive feedback and the show did look really good so I couldn't be happier.*
The show went on, despite the chills/spill/thrills necessary to have an already sick artist's stomach in her mouth. You all probably heard about how my work wasn't picked up and delivered to NYC when it was scheduled.... someone's father (thanks Weston!) had to make that trip. And then a piece of lace- instrumental to the completion of "Complicit"- was unloaded at the wrong address (thanks again fro resolving that issue, Weston)... Yes, artist's hearts are often in cardiac arrest, wondering if all the details were in place- or whether the Devil is indeed alive and well and attending to them!
And then, of course, there is the truly funny-or pathetic- story of how the delivery gentleman (who IS after all, a conservative, gun tottin' rethuglican) REFUSED to pick up the three pieces from the gallery that we weren't hanging... this despite the fact that he was stopping at the gallery to drop off several paintings and had the room in his truck. Hahahahaa! tender sensibilities, indeed! Now who's the snowflake? The things you learn.
And we arrived home at midnight, fed the Dog and Pony Show ( we have a dog walker who comes to minister to Robin's needs) and fell into bed. And woke up at the crack of dawn to go back in to sit the show. It was pretty slow until the last hour or so, when some friends from New Haven showed up and -heavens!- more strangers poured into the gallery and took pictures, were impressed, asked all the right questions etc. That made the day fun and worthwhile.
On the way back to the subway, I was exultant and Bob and I were chatting away merrily about the next move when BOOM! I hit some sort of slippery spot and crashed to the pavement. Naturally, I had just removed my gloves, so my left hand absorbed the fall- along with my left upper thigh and hip. That hurt! And so much for ol' NYC being nice to artists... (it's not!)

Evidence, need I say more?
So the show looks good, my bruises will fade, and Bob and I are hauling into NYC every Saturday to be there for the requisite "meeting and greeting" and "gripping and grinning". Stop by if you're in the neighborhood.

*Well, I would have liked to have sold every piece... or even one (but there's still time...)