Category: Uncategorized

Photo Friday, No. 236

Current Photo Friday theme: Open


If you open up your heart…
Lyric from “Awaiting On You All” by George Harrison.

Today is George Harrison’s birthday. I opened the window seat where I store my albums and brought out this tattered copy of All Things Must Pass, a gift from Riley. George Harrison is my answer to that oft-repeated question, “Favorite Beatle?”

Thank you, George Harrison and Riley, for all your gifts and the way you opened my heart and life to new experiences and adventures.


(Click here to view larger version of photo on black.)

Done!

I did it. I was up until 6 a.m., but I managed to get my paperwork in order. Then, after a few hours of sleep, I took it all to the accountant. It’s out of my hands! It feels almost as good as getting a manuscript in the mail after a wee-hours run to the post-office-that’s-no-longer-open-24/7. Hey, maybe it’s that post office’s fault that I can only write in fits and starts these days. Bring back my 2 a.m. sure thing, Universe!

After the accountant, I cheated on Starbucks with a quick stop at Jack in the Box for an iced coffee. I know! I feel so guilty. However, their drive-through has its advantages, like this sign I shot:

This reminds me that I recently met, through a mutual friend, a young woman who works at Jack in the Box. When I heard this about her, I said, “Oh, REALLY? Well, I don’t know about YOUR Jack in the Box…”

At this point, I could see her bracing herself for some bitchy customer rant.

I continued, “…but I swear they give good drugs to their employees at the two Jacks closest to me, because I LOVE the women who work there.” And it’s true. They’re always happy, always nice. And even though I really, really try to limit fast food runs, sometimes I go there just because I know someone will make me smile. Today was no exception.

This is not an invitation to hear sucky Jack in the Box stories. Let me have my illusion that Jack in the Box is the hamburgery version of Candy Mountain. Only without kidney thieves.

Magnetic Poetry 365:54

I don’t mind paying taxes. I pretend mine are going for only the things I support. But man, I can’t STAND the paperwork involved in being self-employed. It’s misery even though I’m quite organized throughout the year.

Good thing there’s liquor in the cabinet behind me.

Still, better moments lie just ahead. The magnetic words know it, too.

Art the Second Part

Finally framed and hung my wonderful cross-stitch from Marika, which she calls “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds.” It’s tucked between “Roots,” a painting from Timothy Forry, and “Treading Softly, a print from Lindsey Smolensky.

And I’ve shared this drawing from Gilbert Ruiz before, but now it’s framed and hung and looks exactly the way I wanted it to.

Dang, I know some talented people.

Sorry, wrong number

This morning I had a message from a business in Illinois. They were trying to reach someone who’d called them after hours and must have misspoken her phone number, giving them mine. It’s probably dorky, but I always return those calls to tell them they reached my number by mistake. At least it gives them a shot at trying again to connect with the right caller.

This morning I’m glad I did, because the person I talked to had the best Midwestern accent–she sounded a lot like Rose Nylund from “Golden Girls,” but she sounded even more like my late friend Steve R’s mother–super pleasant voice with a lilt, great phone etiquette. It made me happy just to talk to her.

Spa Day

While their jet-setting mom was visiting Savannah, Little Blind Sparky, Mama’s Girl Minute, and Paco the Brave have been staying at The Compound. It’s been boot camp around here. I can’t manage five dogs without military-like order and discipline. Today I gave them baths using deliciously aromatic shampoo and conditioner for dogs that Tim brought over. Now I have nag champa incense burning. With their short memories, I’m hoping this means they’ll tell Lynne it was like a spa retreat around this place. Maybe it’s time to turn up the volume on Enya.


Sparky. Poser.


Minute. Face of a possum killer.


Paco. Rowr!