No Talk Just Walk

Beach Find of the Day

(Red Rubber Ball)

Mari Made a Cookie

Photo by Aasulv Wolf Austad

from one of my pictures.


p.s. And right before Mari made the cookie, Mari had a baby.
A little girl named Mimi!

Feeling Dullsville

Isn't it funny how when you're feeling a certain way and you muster up the energy to maneuver yourself outside–out into nature even–in order to dodge the feeling, often you find yourself face to face with that feeling?

All the rocks on the sand were dull and I realized that the new Mark Knopfler CD I sent Katy for her birthday was dull, and ... but I did see a little girl wearing a tutu and tights under her down jacket! But I was too sluggish to take a photo before she ran away.

Special Delivery

Tom was driving up our street. He passed a bicycle with flowers sticking out the back saddle bag.

It was Anne underneath the helmet, riding her new bike. The flowers were being delivered to us! And on Friday the 13th! Thank you, Anne & Peter.

NaNoWriMo

Aggles is giving National Novel Writing Month a test run this year.

Today she e-mailed me: I’m loving reading the NaNo forum to see what the serious and not so serious writers are saying. This is my favorite thing that I’ve found so far today:

I am not a writer. Last year I found NaNo and decided to give it a try. I found it hilarious to think that the writers kept saying the characters were being bad and not sticking to the story. I was like "umm, you're writing them." Then mine rebelled. Turns out those writers weren't lying after all. The characters really do just use your body to get their story onto the page. -jennmomto4

Do the figures in your drawings do that? Do they rebel and want to be a different color or to be surrounded by different objects than you first conceive?

Aqua Dog

Big Fun at Tiny

Anne at Studio Gallery! The two watercolors above her head are hers.

tiny is a show that opened this evening. All pieces are 7" x 7" or smaller, and all are priced under $400. The effect of hundreds of pieces hung side by side by hundreds of different artists is mesmerizing and lots of fun.

Good Guests

My cuz and her huz (Elizabeth and Bob) are in town! They were coming over for dinner tonight. Tom went to the farmers' market. I decided to clean up the joint and to make a flourless chocolate birthday cake.

Some interesting things happened during cleaning.

When I was clearing out the refrigerator to make room for the farmers' market haul, I noticed a box of wine taking up a lot of space. It was practically empty! I decided it had to go, but I couldn't imagine pouring it down the sink. So I poured it into a large glass.

In a little while I thought, "Why has it taken me this long to figure out that drinking wine while cleaning house really helps? Why do they not teach you this in Home Ec. class? Even if it's right after breakfast, it really helps."

While swiffering the floor, I found a rock and an old receipt under the dining room table. Not a piece of gravel, not a pebble–a rock. Instead of getting upset, I just smiled and took a photo to document it.

A little later it occurred to me why finishing off a box of wine while cleaning might not be such a great idea. I had planned to do some work in the back yard so we could actually open up the blinds on the back wall. Instead, I noticed I was lying with my eyes closed on the couch with my feet propped up on a pile of pillows.

When it was time for the doorbell to ring, the phone rang instead. It was Elizabeth: "Help! We don't know where we are!"

They had decided to do some sightseeing on the way. A half hour earlier they had gotten off the bus at the east end of the park. They had then decided to amble the rest of the way through the park to our house. Tom figured out approximately where they were, so we jumped in the Nebulous and found them.

"Wow, I'm impressed that you thought you could walk 3 1/2 miles to our house in a half hour!"

They showed us the map from the hotel that they were using to navigate. We looked at it and died laughing. Everything west of Pacific Heights had been compressed down to zilch. At the top of the map it said in tiny letters: Compressed Area–4.5 miles. Those 4.5 miles appeared to be a half mile; they had seen no problem in walking what looked like a quarter mile across the park to our house. It was clear that the hotel considered everything west of Pacific Heights completely irrelevant.

Later Elizabeth and Bob were exclaiming over the fact that we had a back yard. They were trying to peek through the blinds. I assured them that there was no need to look outside. Elizabeth persevered, and said–this is the hallmark of a good guest–"Oh but it's charming. It looks rustic."

Finally.

Mary Ann, I finally got to hear you read your story, Halloween Hell, tonight at Books, Inc. It was so much fun. When you signed your story, you noticed that I had underlined in the book and I felt a little sheepish about it. Tom will never underline in a book or fold back the page to mark his place.

I only underlined the parts that made me laugh the loudest, some of which begin:

1. "Who will be installing these registers?" I innocently asked.

2. In October, the lid came off the coffin ...

3. I stopped sleeping completely about October 15.

It cracks me up when I think about how we met. You had arranged for Don Asmussen to come to Borders. Remember how I cornered you and begged to use your phone when it was over? I think I was the only one without a cell phone and I had no idea how I was going to get home–but I didn't care because I got to see the Bad Reporter in person. (And I met you. But I didn't realize it at the time.) That was three years ago!

Was It You?

These flowers were on my front porch this evening. They came in a box, along with a glass vase. Flower food, too. But the card was left out! Will whoever sent them please raise your hand? They are gorgeous and I will take another photo tomorrow so you can inspect them by the light of day.

How I Am

When the tide's low in the evening it's our habit to walk almost two miles south, then back. Since I returned from Chattanooga the first couple of times we hit the beach I experienced the strangest sensation. I would start out jogging but I could only go about 10 steps, then I'd have to walk. Then once I turned around and headed back towards home, I felt like my being wasn't rooted firmly in my body. I thought I might be on the verge of fainting (I've never fainted) and I actually wondered if I'd make it back. I had to go very slowly and it felt like I was slogging through a dream. And I was starving!

The third time we hit the beach, I didn't even try to jog. I just took it easy, then went home and ate seconds and thirds of everything at dinner. The whole first week back I wanted to sleep ten or eleven hours a night and eat everything in the refrigerator during the day.

This evening I jogged. Pandora helped; and the biscotti (two kinds: chocolate almond and orange) John passed over the fence right before we left probably gave me some sugary energy.

Talking on the phone is hard. I love my friends. It feels surreal to not be planning a trip to Tennessee for Thanksgiving or Christmas!