That’s what my life feels like just now. I can’t relate the bits one to another.
In a little over a week I will fly to China to visit my daughter who lives there while she teaches English to Chinese business men. I will stay 10 days in Shanghai, where she moved to just days ago. Before that she was in the south of China in Guang Zhou, an industrial city.
The thought of China is just a tiny bit alarming. I have been reading on the internet about how people bump into you and push ahead when shopping or getting on public transportation. I wonder whether my credit card will work there, and if not how I get cash. My granddaughter, Katy, is going with me. I will be glad to have her along to navigate.
The Memorial Day artists’ tour of Lummi Island is about to happen and I have signed up this time to be on it. I spent a couple of days completely cleaning my studio and rearranging things to get ready.
I am trying to get my presses in functioning order so that I can do some demonstrating.
I wonder whether it was worth the effort. In general art does not sell well.
My little rental unit is taken this weekend and next. I am arranging for guests. This weekend I have people coming from Princeton, N. J. It makes me just a tiny bit tense — I worry that it won’t suit them, that my ad on VRBO has made them think it’s better than it really is.
One of my children is having grave problems in his life. I stay awake at night troubled over the situation.
I had the dogs groomed. They look like little shorn black sheep.
The groomer scolded me because their fur had grown so long. She said if I let it go that long again she will have to charge me more.
I thought, if I pay a person $80 to spend a couple of hours clipping and washing two tiny dogs I shouldn’t have to be lectured to. I think I will find a new groomer.
Jerry and I have stayed in our Condo several times lately and we have finally had a few chances to walk in the park. There is a beaver in the pond (I saw it) and I saw the eagle’s nest. A man with a telescope told me there is a barred owl nest with babies in it along the path. It’s a lovely park. My country dogs think they must bark fiercely at every city dog they see — and they see a lot of them in that park.
Here’s a short walk through the park — Whatcom Falls Park.
I am taking a course in water color figure drawing, and I took a weekend workshop with my friend Lorna Libert whose work I admire. I have 5 unfinished oil paintings.
My knee still hurts and I am waiting impatiently to finalize my teeth implants. I don’t like the gap, and the temporary insert, the “flipper,” is miserably uncomfortable so I don’t wear it much.
It is almost June and we still have to heat the house. All the flowers and vegetables are retarded in their growth because it has been so cold and rainy.
My bird feeders are overrun with starlings, and there are fewer of the bright colored native birds. If I don’t put out food I don’t see any birds at all. What’s to be done?
Somehow I want all this to coalesce into some sort of reasonable pattern. But it stubbornly stays in scattered unrelated threads. The one really big worry, my child‘s distress, colors all the other parts of my life.