And While We're On the Subject...

To avoid confusion, I point out that this post is NOT about Corona Virus (COVID 19). It is an attempt to discuss a work-related matter, in a semi-light hearted way as I know we all need to laugh. The picture above is of our compost pile. I am making the point that our compost pile is a more savory place to consider eating than the lunch room where I work. (*1)
And because I was discussing my place of employment and disease, I thought this would be a good time to discuss issues of hygiene and nutrition- both of which are in short supply at work.
How I haven't gotten food poisoning at work is truly a mystery; someone has because one of my co-workers spends inordinate amounts of time in the men's room (conveniently located right next to the lunch room). Typically, there are several mice in residence evidenced by the small poop offerings to be found in the drawer containing such essentials as plastic wrap and aluminum foil. We learned early on to go without. Traps are set, but there's always more rodents.
The silverware drawer is exempt from poop but holds utensils that need both inspection AND washing before use. A fellow employee thinks a quick cold water rinse suffices to clean forks and spoons. Ditto for dishes.
Then there is the toaster oven that has attempted to burn the building down on occasion, partially due to one (former) member of management who liked to place food items in the toaster oven- set on "broil", too close to the heating elements and then leave the room. Billows of smoke and badly blackened food signaled "lunch was ready". The microwave is a better bet (despite being coated with three years worth of micro-on sludge) but it can't be used while the toaster or coffee maker is plugged in or the fuses blow.
Many of my co-workers are tired of hearing me bemoan the danger of microwaving food in plastic but they persist in doing it anyway. (I guess the microwaves do kill the bacteria in mouse poop adorning the plastic wrap but we've all heard of the carcinogenic problems with plastic and microwaves.) I keep expecting co-workers to show up sporting elaborate tumors spontaneously generated by a Chernobyl-like convergence of microwave and plastic. Don't get me started on the imbibing of "sugar-free" sodas...
My bosses surly corgi used to hold fort beneath the table and consume whatever snacks and scraps that people dropped. Ginger used to also leave remarkably gigantic poops under the lunch table;her way of saying "thanks", but she has since gone to doggie heaven and food scraps stay on the floor.
And then there's the food itself: many of my co-workers are nutritionally challenged, consuming nothing but pizza and questionable portions of greasy take-out chicken but these people are young and still feel invincible. Ah youth!

The people I worry about are the ones I avoid eating with. One individual has horrified me with obscene "edible creations" lovingly constructed before my cringing eyeballs. How about wonder bread, slathered with peanut butter... and mayonnaise? Quick way to lose one's appetite! And deep fried everything... sometimes carted back from fairs and street festivals. I can't even describe some of the other items I've seen him place in his mouth. Another person whom I avoid at lunch time brings food from home, but it's usually some gigantic blob of undercooked meat in a plastic baggie that sits festering on the counter for hours (although the refrigerator is a few feet away). I can't even consider the bacteria multiplying mere inches from my innocent apple. Oh and I need I mention that I'm the only person at work who seriously consumes fruit? And vegetables?
We have a joke at work among my healthier eating co-workers, that no matter how awful or old something is- like Halloween candy months after the fact or stale cake from a party attended elsewhere (*2)- if you put it on the kitchen table, it will be gone (eaten!!) within minutes. Like piranha they are! This is the appropriate time to mention that for my birthday one year they purchased an ice cream cake for me, but then left it on the lunchroom table. We were really busy so it wasn't until much later- on a July afternoon- that we went to the lunchroom and were confronted with an ice cream soup mess. I guess it's the thought that counts!
Understandably, when the weather is warm I prefer to dine out doors, where we actually have a picnic table. But I am thinking I'm (sorta) lucky as due to uncertainties surrounding COVID 19, I don't have to go to work for the foreseeable future.(*3) Stay healthy! You are what you eat!


(*1) But I am happy to report that the co-worker in question was told to stay at home until next week so I feel vindicated. Also, I hope she realizes how lucky she is as they are apparently considering stopping flights to Washington State and elsewhere...
(*2) Or how about a months old gingerbread house? Brought in by a "thoughtful" co-worker? Left over from Xmas but delivered to us in February? I think that one was so beyond the pale that it wound up in the garbage can!
(*3) Because I actually enjoy certain aspects of work! Really! It can be amusing... just not the eating part.
(*4) The amaryllis is blooming on our kitchen table. It is here to remind us of beauty and things other than COVID 19. Amen.

Corona Not Flu!

The title is a play on a Ramones song, "Carbona Not Glue" that I hope you remember. If not,
here it is: The Ramones: Carbona Not Glue
Anyway, it's been a crazy roller coaster week, not only because of much personal busy-ness but the ever changing line up of democratic presidential hopefuls and that pesky "novel" virus. The stock market gone hay wire, people are dying (not good!) and our government is dropping the ball, as usual.
One week truly feels like a year. Here's an instructive and complicated anecdote: Last week, it was mentioned that a young woman who works in the office of the auction house (where I have worked for 14 years (!!!)) was off on another trip. Not paying too much heed, I casually inquired as to where she had gone. The answer was, "Washington State and Seattle." I was struck later that night, as we listened to the nightly news, that Washington State was being implicated in a couple of unexpected Corona virus cases. A day later, one person had died and a few more cases were diagnosed. I began to wonder if her trip had been a good idea and what was going to transpire when she returned. I asked our general manager- who just happens to be the young woman's mother- what her daughter was up to in Washington.*
Her mother (our equivalent of a HR person along with other hats) gave a perplexed laugh and shrugged and said, "Maybe I shouldn't have let her go. Maybe I'm not a good mother! Hahahaha."
 I became concerned.
Yes, perhaps the media likes to inflate the next enormous or tragic story but this particular issue has some teeth. F'rinstance, "they" (health care providers, epidemiologists and the like) aren't even sure exactly how where virus this came from or how it has spread so quickly . And we know there is no cure, and that it seems to be popping up all over the place... and worst of all is that we don't seem to be doing anything to effectively contain it here! The Orange Menace has proclaimed it "shut down" and "under control" and has incorrectly stated that "a vaccine is just around the corner" (in reality, a year to 18 months away!) He also "had a hunch" that few people would fall ill and that "many
people will have a mild case and even go to work". NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!                                                                                                    
I became increasingly alarmed when I was greeted with the morning news that 11 people in Washington state had died as a result. I expressed my concern to Bob and he agreed that I had a right to feel uncomfortable about working next to a person who had traveled to the very region that's Ground Zero. I shared concern with two of my co-workers and approached my boss. I guess I made it clear that I wasn't being alarmist and that many of us are older than 60 and are in a high risk age group, even if we tend to be pretty healthy. (My boss is well into his 70's and has had a nasty respiratory infection for several weeks: I don't think he'd be smart of mix in a possible cross-pollination with Covid 19!)

 
Fortunately, he was responsive and went to talk to our general manager about having her daughter "self-quarantine" for a week or ten days. It still remains to be seen whether she will have the self restraint to stay home and check herself for symptoms. I am already preparing for my response if I go to work on Tuesday and she's there. But hell, her father as well as her mother work with us and won't they bring germs to work, even if she resists coming in? Stay tuned!

* And I'm not being judgemental, but this young woman is in her 20's, not considering her own- or anyone else's mortality! and probably being age-appropriately irresponsible. She comes back from her trips with tales of binge drinking and the like. I think I'm trying to get across the thought that her life is probably a seething petri dish!

Good Fences and Neighbors- Again!

I was so excited to get this project underway that I plum forgot to take pictures or document it until too late! But see all that nice new fencing? Five whole panels (at 8 feet a panel that's an additional 40 feet of coverage!) that weren't there yesterday morning...
Last week, I announced to Bob that I was considering hiring our good friend Joe to assist me in erecting more fencing. Bob eagerly seconded my idea as he has been super busy with metalwork orders and he knew how anxious I was to get this fence section completed. It is right next to my famous Lilac and Shrub Departments... new additions as of the last couple of years, and in need of a bit of privacy. I felt exposed and self-conscious while gardening down there; sometimes I'm covered from head to toe in mud (or worse!) and wearing my gardening clothes- short hand for my weirdest and most expendable outfits... ripped, torn, and filthy. So I was sparing our neighbors (very nice people) from the cringe worthy spectacle of the soiled, cursing crazy lady lurching around and stumbling over half unearthed tree stumps and poison ivy brambles.*

Even my daffodils look happier now that they are a bit more protected!
So Joe cheerfully agreed to meet me for for a day of digging, nailing, hauling and hoisting fun. He arrived at 9:00 and we lugged drill, extension cords, shovels, crow bars, electric chain saw, fence sections and saw horses into place only to realize there was a bit more "clearing" that needed doing before we set up any fence. It took us a good hour to chop, saw and haul trees, wild rose bushes, barberry and scrubby choke cherry growth away. And then we were ready to start the actual joy of post hole digging. Our soil is reliably rocky...
At some point early in our efforts, we required a ladder so that Joe- despite being heroically taller than myself- could pound the posts in. (In a moment of engineering brilliance, he thought to sharpen the ends of the posts so that they would drive in more easily) I went to Bob's studio and requested a ladder and Bob helpfully asked "how many sections we had gotten up". Hahaha! He was surprised- and concerned- when I said, "None!" I think he thought we'd never get on with the job.
But we did! By coffee time (typically about 3:00 or 3:30) we were well on our way and had completed the job by 5:00. It looks great! Even our neighbor next door suggested that we needn't have put the "good side" of the fence towards them; I'm sure they're glad to be spared my weird hijinks and wardrobe crimes AND they get the "good side" of the fence! Deal! Good neighbors!

*Additionally, we no longer have to stare at their dozen or so parked cars and snow mobiles.

The Good, The Bad and the Worser

(Pictures of house plants are provided to give us something living and green to focus on. I haven't killed them yet, which is one of the good things! A selection of begonia, dracaena and succulents).
The observant among you will notice that I am typing this at 3:45 a.m. (Well, I started my post then and am continuing at a more civilized hour). I couldn't sleep because of all the roiling 'round that my brain was doing.

The good? I have a one person show at a (community) college art gallery... YAAAAAYYY!! It all happened spontaneously and serendipitously because of an other artist's erratic behavior and sudden departure to points west. (It's actually sort of interesting that this other artist- an in demand young man!- disappeared to Southern California on a whim and left the curator with no show to hang.) So because I am a professional (I'm laughing here) and I have a ton of hang-ready work AND the curator loved my pieces... I have a show. I'll keep you posted as to the opening date and artist's talk.
I also have another REALLY GOOD art related event coming my way that is partially under wraps until February 1st. But let's just say I'm EXTREMELY pleased and excited!!

And that's a good thing as other aspects of my existence suck, big time. My job? The one that I've had for 12 years and really like (at times)? Probably won't be long before I'm seriously unemployed. Our hours have been cut (nothing personal- it's across the board), and apparently there is a hemorrhage of money and plenty of bad luck (unfortunately typical of the antiques/auction world). It's a changing market and there are other options for people to divest themselves of treasures and merchandise. But we also suffer from sinking morale (with nothing being done to boost it!) and increasingly peculiar conditions. * It does keep me up at night!
The worser and worser is: Do I really want to look for another job? What on earth am I prepared to do? I'd prefer to bury my head in the sand and deny the possibility of having to look for a different mode of economic support. I've certainly always had a fraught relationship with gainful employment! And I am silly/deluded/impractical and delirious enough to still hold out hope that "someone" will "discover" me and buy all my back inventory of artwork and catapult me into financial freedom. Are we all laughing now? I guess we need a good laugh as it's fuckin' freezing outside and we have a long way to go until spring.

*I am suspicious that "they" are surreptitiously trying to get us to quit. There is a major game of "uncle" going on; a brinksmanship battle to see just how far they can push us.Talk about stressful.

Work Related

Just look at the cool dragon I scored at work! A nice perk has always been the ability to purchase (generally reasonably) interesting stuff. We joke at work that you have to be a "stuff person" to work at an auction house... otherwise it will overload your circuits and you'll go crazy. There is a lot of stuff in the world. The other truth of an auction house is that if you wait long enough, the same thing (or something very similar!) will come along. It's down right weird when we have an auction and get several identical objects consigned by different people. Last year we had the same Lalique vase twice in one sale and just last month, we had two nearly identical wooden swans from different estates. (How many of us have large wooden swans hanging around?!)
As many of you know, I have liked my job. I hope to be able to continue to do so but there are strange things afoot. Despite The Orange Menace constantly crowing about how swell the economy is doing, the auction that I work at seems to be floundering a bit. I understand that the auction world is changing and people are getting smarter about selling their own things on Ebay and Craig's List, and there are thirty million online auctions now...
Here's some really lovely fabric that I got- for a song. Even if I only used it as a backing for an art piece, it would still be a steal; there's over a yard and it's wide.

Anyway, I'm having my hours whittled and it doesn't make me happy. (And just in time for the holidays and the darkest, most brutish time of the year!!) Let's hope things pick up in the near future.

And here's "Steve". I pulled him out of the dumpster behind the auction. It is truly a source for strange things, and No, I did not name him "Steve"*. Look at the back of his neck:

See? I guess my point is how enriched my material world has been while working at the auction. Not only do I get to collect unusual and various things, I get to handle- and photograph- all sorts of delightful and museum-worthy items. I have developed a real appreciation for stuff I'll never own (nor particularly want to): like silverware and Chinese vases and ugly settees. They're all fun to absorb for a few minutes and then they go on their way.
Additionally, I feel entirely too jaded and exhausted to think of looking for another job. I have job-related baggage and little or no desire to have to become a perky and accommodating job applicant at this stage of my life! This has been a good, three-day-a-week job for an artist like me... don't make me start over now!!!!

*Steve is still living in my office at work. I have a prodigious collection of flotsam and ephemera that embellishes my work room, including a large drawing of Lenin and primitive Band-Aid art... and bugs! And teeth! And odd pictures of people grasping cats by their necks!

Early Winter

Just in case anyone slept late and missed the joy of waking up to five inches of slushy snow and rain and sleet and generally miserable conditions outside, I'll present a few pictures. How about we didn't get a measly inch or two- the proverbial "dusting"- but instead went for the full-blown, all out winter presentation: Look at this mess!

There's Robin, looking like she's lost in Alaska. She alone among us professes to like the snow. I suppose when one is young and carefree, snow is a blast. Robin does enjoy being toweled off (and given a dog treat) when she comes back in. No one gives Bob or me a dog treat when we come back in... but then again, Bob made French toast and the house smelled divinely like cinnamon and maple when I came back in from feeding Maggie.

Wow! I hadn't even thought about how monochromatic our world is when it snows... just shades of grey. It's hard to believe that just Wednesday, I was planting bulbs and raking leaves and Bob was splitting wood. I sure hope that this early snow storm isn't a harbinger of a long, cold, snowy winter to come. Yikes!

*At least I'm taking the day off from work. The drive in would be a nightmare! (Besides whne I called in, no one answered the phone.) Bob maintains you can't snow blow this sort of heavy wet stuff. But you sure as hell can't shovel it, either! Maybe (wishful thinking) it will melt??!?!?

Our Little Bit of Scotland

The above dramatization occurred at work one day while describing to a co-worker how I will never retire. I maintain I will simply be found collapsed and deceased on the job. He captured the moment for posterity*.
A month or so ago, Bob and I began toying with the notion of visiting Scotland, as the ticket prices advertised by Norwegian Airlines from our local airport were very enticing. We haven't been on a significant trip- or even out of the country- in a very long time and our passports are up to date and why not Scotland? We looked at videos of perky travelers exploring the offerings of Edinburgh and the Scottish countryside, sampling haggis and whisky. We viewed hotel accommodations...
But wait! It came to me at work (perhaps while demonstrating "dying in my traces" like Boxer in "Animal Farm") that we should spend our money and time concentrating on that which would have a lasting, life-long effect. We should spend our time and money traveling to New York as we both truly wish to make a mark, leave our stamp upon the Art World!
So, newly reinvigorated and inspired, we sped off to NYC on Saturday and spent the day perusing galleries and the requisite ten million faces. (I mean, New York is nothing if not full of faces.) We saw the good, the bad and (dare I say it?) the less than sublime. But we went! And we saw! And it was (as always) oddly transfixing and transformative and exhausting. We're tired today.
However, the Lower East Side is (and has been for a few years) the new-er area to see art. It smells a bit like fish (occasionally) as this is Chinatown before Art Land, but who cares when culture (Kulture!) calls?
We had several "on trend" moments when it became apparent that scumbled, pealed back paper eroded "archeological" pieces were favored. And painting. Yes, painting is still "having a (big) moment". And space men? It's a decent season for the artist that pixel-ates or likes space alien/robot heads. (A few were actually okay.) What else... drawings that were very detailed and had a fantasy element seemed worth looking at. Some want to call this "outsider" but hell: what's an insider artist? And then we met a woman running a gallery that (I swear) was like eight feet square, featuring an obsessive artist coloring in plywood carved anal sculptures. Heavens help us...
And then we celebrated Bob's birthday ( five months late) at an Indian restaurant. Not just any one! It is a restaurant that we've been going to for years. I swear they save us a front row table, under the most amazing strobe-lit disco ball, with ever-lower red hot pepper themed Xmas lights- what a treat! The food was wonderful, the company exclusive and charming... we had a really good time.
And now we're tired but happy. I feel really good about our decision to "stay put" and go to NYC more frequently. We need to get that art career train rolling...

photo credit: Antony Corso

Happy Birthday to Me! (Warning: Contains graphic images)

Yeah, that kinda gross! My birthday week has been filled with stupid little accidents, mini-medical predicaments and lots of nice presents... and cake! The first thing that happened was Bob looked across the breakfast table at me and informed me that my eye was all red (an understatement). A broken blood vessel is to blame; I have been prone to these in the eye that I damaged. But this one was a bloody gusher and was awful enough that I called the Yale Eye Center. But they were less than impressed at my description and dismissed my concerns with a blase, "We really don't see people for those. It will go away on its own". And it is fading- finally- but I look like The Bride of Frankenstein and it's still enough to scare small children.

And then, as if to compliment the red theme of the week, I developed an heroic case of poison ivy (or oak) and broke out in itchy festering pustules. It really is nice when Nature conspires to make a physical wreck out of you for your birthday: it reinforces that underlying theme of mortality and the inevitable downward spiral to death and decay. Fun!
But despite these less than flattering additions to my 61 year old body, I really had a nice birthday week- and it's still continuing because friends are coming over on Tuesday to help celebrate. Family members gathered on Wednesday to shower me with delightful foods and wines and offer gifts in the form of clothing (to drape over the poison ivy) and smoky eye make up (to disguise that red eye) and fabulous plant material, in the form of two wonderful lilacs to add to my rapidly expanding shrub border and a variegated Physostegia virginiana to fill in one of the holes that has developed in the garden. (And contrary to the opinions of certain family members, I do NOT have too many plants and no where left to place them! I can easily think of at least ten specimens that I'd love to squeeze into my horticultural madhouse...) But where was I? Celebrating my birthday!
It's been a good birthday, despite the above afflictions and the intense heat. Bob and I had a nice, quiet birthday celebration, with more gifts and cake and sushi...
, which turned out to be a good thing as I needed all the rest I could get. When I returned to work on Friday, all hell was breaking loose because of the excitement provided by an estate sale as well as an auction. People were predictably rude and demanding- that's nothing new. But on Saturday, an elderly gentleman who is a regular (pain in the ass) showed up to do himself one better in the annoyance department. He became insulting and abusive after the prices on some books that he wanted to buy were higher than he liked. My supervisor advised me to call the police (fortunately located directly across the street) if he wouldn't leave. Believe it or not, he returned three times (!!!!) to harass and lambast us. He also stood in the parking lot and harangued my boss. I am happy to reoport that he didn't go home and get a gun and shoot us all, but it was a stressful day. Thank goodness that blasted sale is over!!

Can It Get Any Weirder?

I'll tease with the above picture but start my dialog by saying, "You know how Bob and I have been having really bad luck with cars and trucks for the past few months?" Well, it only gets weirder so read on.
Our good friends Caltha and Jerry gave us their used Subaru Impreza. Gave it, as in "free"... very generous indeed! Gotta love friends like that! Thank you!!! By last Sunday, it was registered, legal and ours and in our yard, awaiting a muffler replacement, to be done by a friend of a friend (also named Bob). There were a few part-not-ordered mishaps (thanks to the AutoZone in the next town- don't get me going) but the parts were assembled and Car Bob installed the system. It only took an hour, we fired it up and it ran like a charm. I did some errands, exclaiming how wonderful it was to be a two-vehicle household again.
Monday morning I say to Bob, "Just think; I'll drive the car to work and the truck is here, ready to take you to the store or deliver a job you've finished... whatever you need to do!" Of course, nothing is that simple. The car exploded to life but proceeded to get louder and louder and wouldn't run without my foot on the gas. So I sat there thinking, "This is too much". Bob heard the car's commotion from all the way down in his studio and when I turned the car off (as there was no way I could drive it) it kept making this over-heated pinging noise and generally acted like it was going to explode. Needless to say, I took the truck.
So at lunch, I decided to drive up to the garage that had disposed of my Honda and get the $50 that scrapping the car had gotten (Pathetic). I got in the truck, looked ahead of me, saw a co-worker  standing in front of me, standing in front of his truck and I thought, "Oh, I'll never fit between him and the next car over. I'll just back up." The result is the damaged car, above.
You see, the truck is very high. When I looked out my back window, I didn't even see the Volkswagon Passat directly behind me. It gets worse.
I go into the building to find my victim, who turns out to be an elderly (and now irate) customer of the auction house who was there to consign merchandise. I sheepishly confess what I have done- really, I felt terrible (and stupid!) but hey! I wasn't trying to hit her (deep breath) brand new (as in she hasn't even had it a week) car. I mean, brand spanking new...
I will not go into the pitch of her fury or that she insisted I call the State Police, who told me that as I readily admitted that I'd hit her car and it was on private property and no one was hurt, they didn't really need to send a trooper. But she insisted; I think she was hoping the feds would haul me off in leg irons. The police officer who arrived was very nice, and I am sorry to say, entertained by how out for vengeance (or at least a pound of flesh) my victim was. He actually smiled benevolently at me and her and said, "Look: it was an accident. She (me) admits she hit your car. All you need to do is exchange information." My victim kept insisting that the police officer write up a report, treating it as a crime scene. He replied that they don't investigate or file reports on cases like this, as there was no case. She kept insisting that I be publicly stoned or taken to a labor camp or at least chained to a rock where Ford F 150's would back up into me all day long. Something, anything... she wanted justice.

(Insult to injury, absolutely nothing happened to our truck. I think that bulge in front of the license plate directly impacted her hood. Sorry!) The upshot was that she decided she didn't feel safe driving her car and would wait for a tow truck to drag her poor car all the way to Greenwich (although the police officer and a few of my sympathetic* co-workers assured her that absolutely nothing had happened to her engine, just her hood was smashed in and looked dramatically awful but it started and ran just fine.) Did I say I felt really bad? I did, several thousand times but she did her best to berate me, so much so that it got funny and even the police officer was laughing. (Discretely, but he was amused.) She actually waited for that tow truck all afternoon. Like until 4:00. We all took turns, looking out the window expressing disbelief that she was still there. Even the cop, who had kept a vigil with her finally left. (I bet she gets a bigger car next time she's in the market for a new ride.) I drove all the way home at twenty miles an hour and will only go forward from now on.
And the car? Car Bob came back out to check out what on earth had caused the Subaru to threaten to explode... but of course when Bob and Bob started it up and took it out for a test drive, it performed perfectly. Am I nuts? Did we need this? Bob and I can't believe our bad "kar-ma".

*Sympathetic to me as she really was a bitch. I mean, yes, I wrecked her brand new car and probably ruined the rest of her life but give me a break! I was very contrite! My co-workers all watched as she continued to harangue me.

Road Trip

Where else but in rural Connecticut would you see a roadside Buddha? I have been meaning to shoot a picture of this for some time now but keep forgetting to bring the camera. This is in the town of Morris where we almost bought a house. (I think you remember that particular fiasco...) But Friday on my way home from work, the gods were with me and I had my camera and the Buddha smiled on me.
We went to New Bedford for the weekend so that Bob could talk to a gallerist who will be showing his work come September. I have very high hopes for Bob's show; not only his work dynamite but the gallery is really nice and the dealer has plans.

Here's a Buddha assistant. There's two of these figures to the left and right of the big colorful Buddha. There's other interesting winged figures in the back, closer to the temple itself. The color of this place is absolutely spectacular in full sunlight!
We visited with our friends Don and Elizabeth who are charming hosts/hostesses and showed us a nice time. We went to three art openings on Saturday night and saw lots of people that we haven't seen in ages. It was a hectic day and a half in New Bedford. But it's good to be home even if it's crazy hot and I have hell day at work tomorrow when I have to hang seven hundred and fifty thousand pictures. Maybe the Buddha can send an assistant or two!