Summertime Sadness

Entry 1

Last summer, as we traveled the Atlantic Seaboard, I wasn't updating my journal. It seems criminal now, given the amount of amazing things we did. A highlight of the trip was our visit to the Philadelphia Museum of Art. We went on a lark. We walked to the Museum on a warm summer's day, a few miles from our hotel. There is a satellite building a few blocks from the main museum, where I encountered one of Rodan's The Thinker, a giant piece, sitting outside the building. The museum itself was, in my estimation, one of the greatest museums around. The Henry Privat-Livemont poster shown here, a work included in the  exhibition of posters of the 19th century Art-Nouveu movement, and showing on our visit, was a favorite of mine. The poster, and others he made which were very similar, had been created for a Belgian tea company. And people say imperialism and colonialism never brought anything good into the world. The entire exhibition, along with others, sucked me in for longer than I care to admit. If I could afford one of these posters, well, I'd be rich.

I took many dozens of pictures, and now they sit on my hard drive, occupying bit space, nothing more. Each day I get nudged by different galleries, One Drive, Google, others, showing pictures spanning back to about 2007, when I started uploading pictures.  I welcome the reminder that I captured the pictures, most with my 35 mm. While I wish I had been consistently keeping a journal, these images transport me back, and make me appreciate how much fun we had as a family, and how much I love traveling.

Speaking of traveling. Abby intends on driving over to see BoyGenius at the Gorge by herself tonight. I have never been much of a free-range parent, but she is 18, and I won't stand in her way. I have insisted she put Life360 on her phone, and she has dutifully complied. She has a debit card, a phone and a charger.  She doesn't drink or do drugs. She intends on leaving and driving home after the show, which means I will be up until 3 or so, I am guessing.

Not sure how all her plans fell through, but she will be meeting friends there and maybe make a different plan once she arrives in George. 

Having this handyman over has been incredibly wonderful. Yesterday he did any number of things that I wouldn't or couldn't. Given my fucked-up shoulders, I couldn't move the blueberries or huckleberries out of their pots and into the yard without his help, nor could I hang my bikes, or (without prompting) fix my front gate--again. This has been the highlight of my summer home caretaking. Each week, multiple things I would never have achieved in months, with or without operational shoulders, are done in just a few hours.

Yesterday, I inspected the pumpkin plant I bought at the ORCA k-8 plant sale in April, and transplanted it into an old whiskey barrel. The plant is thriving, its orange blossoms springing up almost daily. Given the fruit that has emerged from the vine, I am certain that I was hoodwinked into buying summer squash, however. It's orange blossoms have turned into shiny yellow orbs, not green, and I have grown enough pumpkin and been to enough pumpkin patches to know the pumpkin starts green, not yellow. C'est la jardinage.

Summer moves closer to harvest, I move closer to living alone. I am going back to read about the debate over whether string theory is bullshit. Have a great day.

Entry 2

I received a call yesterday from Emily, an RN at cardiac rehab. She doesn't like me because of my mask wearing when I started cardiac rehab.


 

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