Bird Party

There we were minding our business, probably talking about our trip, when an unexpected knocking started up. It sounded as if someone was trapped and knocking to get out, or in, or??? Mrguy went to investigate. He could see the shadow of bird wings through the skylight. It was a full-on bird party. But it sounded as if raccoons were wrestling up there.

I went outside and there were crows on the roof. Crows in the oak trees cawing like crazy. And hundreds of little acorns were raining down in the front yard. Up above, they were flying high, then dropping headfirst while spinning down, then back up. Mrguy says that they were dropping their acorns and then catching them again in the air.

Occasionally you'd hear them rattle.

They've moved off to other areas, but they are so satisfying to hear. A grey, foggy day and a bird party is a beautiful thing.

Oh wait! They're back. Knocking. It made me think that the Jehovas are at the front door. They're trying to break open the acorns on the roof.

Surrealist Cat Painting

This lovely painting was the subject of my obsession for a few weeks. It's a real surrealist painting from 1940 by Dorr Bothwell, who was super interesting. She even had an oral history in the Archives of American Art.

There was lots of interest in the painting, and when it went up for auction the final price was $16,000. I was never going to pay 16 Gs for a painting of a seal point siamese emerging from a conch shell.

So I asked AI to replace the cat with a flame point.

It looks amazing, and I am so happy.

 

The One Where I Retire With An Empty Hand v2

Those who don't ask don't get. And sometimes those who do ask don't get. And sometimes those who do ask have confusing conversations about how they're part of the fabric of the company and its history and its culture. And sometimes those on the other end seem to think that because they've told you that they think you're considered important to the company it actually means something for you. 

It doesn't. It is about people in power wanting you to stick around because they like you.

Although that's super nice, it's maddening. It doesn't make you feel appreciated for what you do, it makes you feel -- ornamental. With an empty hand.

In a followup phone conversation with the head of the forklifts I yelled. I said everything that I thought was important. It won't change a thing, but at least I got it all out. 

That, people, was for me.

3 Days in One!

I basically had a three day weekend on the first day of a three day weekend.

The plan was for mrguy and I to go to breakfast. Then the call came. It was the rev. Her husband has been going through an awful and supremely painful and misdiagnosed and undiagnosed facial nerve pain. Everything hurts, all the time. A breeze can make him spasm. A neurologist would only meet him virtually, even when told that there were lumps forming in the painful areas. Primary doctor wouldn't refer him. Finally a dermatologist sent him for an emergency visit to a head and neck specialist. They think it's cancer, but the lesions are so hard that they can't get a biopsy. Developing.

My friend is devastated. She called. Nobody does that. I'm glad she did. Unsure of what to do for her, I asked if I could take her out of the house. She had a thing that she'd been invited to do in a neighboring ghost town. It's kinda inhabited, uninhabited, out of the way. I hadn't been there in decades. Well it turns out that there was some sort of art fair and a pop up and it was an embodiment of my friend. She finds the magical. I didn't quite understand where we were going or what we were doing, but I was down for whatever it was.

We drove the back way into town, which was windy and hot and dusty. I wasn't exactly sure where we were, but I figured that we were in the county somewhere. How lost could we be? Then we dropped into the main (possibly only) road. And found parking. 

A one block area had booths and tables set up. No crap. Only weirdness. Vintage and remade clothing. Garlands for sale that consisted entirely of jute string and the occasional old plaster baby leg. And the pop-up store that rev was looking for. 

In the back they were making Belgian waffles. In the middle were tables with a wine tasting area (we had n/a sprintzers). There was a woman with the most gorgeous hand dripped candles, and molded ones that were in the shape of chanterelles. There was a craft table for kids. And a woman who makes Polish chandeliers. They were gorgeous.

Then there was a store with cool old and new stuff. Ornamental items that looked like things you'd find in a general store in a German-American town in the 1930s.

and otherwise weird witchy stuff. Tis the season. She bought Abba-Zaba and Bottlecaps at a vintage t-shirt store. Then we went to a crystal store. What an amazing day.

I took rev home, and she gifted me with some figs for the way home. Green ones. Their flower ends were so devoid of flowery remains that I asked her if they'd gotten a Brazilian, which is usually the kind of joke that my friend of 46 years would find witty, but that shows you how dire the day's circumstances were. 

Then I headed to m.junior's open house to see if I could drop off some egg cartons. Her real estate partner said that I would find her at home. I've been hoarding egg cartons since m.junior's romantic partner posted on Insta that they needed some. Did I give them any in May? Nope. So they piled up in Tiger Brown. I was determined that this was going to be the day.

But first, REI. We are going to Ireland and I don't have a rain jacket. And I need a sling purse that will fit an iPad that can go under a rain jacket that I don't have. REI. Deep breath, people! It was a challenge, but I did what needed to be done, coming home with a plain black rain jacket and a sling purse that is in not-my-colors (goldenrod and lavender. what monsters came up with that combo?).

But we're not done. M.jr was home, so I went to her place and gave her many many egg cartons. She and her family have a wild compound. A guy lives in an airstream on her property. Her mom usually lives in Mexico but bought a huge RV to take down there with her. Many cars, many people pass through. They are a wonderful family. And then there are the chickens. They used to do Instagram stories about the chickens, building the coops, rehabbing furniture, welding. Aquanetta is the best-named chicken of all, and I'd never met her in person, so I asked to see her.

Here are the chickens being summoned with grain:

And here's Aquanetta, in the flesh. Her feathers are short and curl away from her body. Cute little bird person.

We are still not done. Our friend was coming over to hang out. So I made chili while those guys looked at maps, discussed Ireland, music, elderly parents, and life.

Then mrguy and I watched Derry Girls, episode 2.