One day it's sunglasses and sunbathing chickens taking deep sumptuous dust baths. The next day we are butt in the air, madly digging through dressers for mittens, long johns and the flannel sheets. Looking at the clothes flopped over the chair next to bed. Summer tee shirts, shorts, sweaters, long johns and always muddy jeans….. ahhhh weather A.D.D. The shoes by the back door are piles of flip flops and boots.
It's November, it's dark. All Summer, Fall and Spring, I look out the back window to embrace the joy of the day but November just kind of sucks the embrace of day in the inky darkness. I don't know how to dress until I hit the back door on my way to the chicken coop. Who needs a weather rock? I have nose hairs that freeze together and scrunch up your face so hard it scares the chickens and the neighbor lady gazing out her kitchen window. But snow? Really? This is more than frost on the pumpkins, this is buried pumpkins.
Trying really hard to embrace living moment to moment without bitching too much.
This morning I sat in the glow of the TV weather report and news, eating my warm bowl of rice with cinnamon. Savoring each grain as it warmed my frozen face. Good Morning America has the lead story…… BROWN RICE HIGHER IN ARSENIC IN THAN ANY OTHER RICE…..
I stopped eating mid chew. My healthy brown rice that we eat quite often, is loaded with arsenic and I should be eating white rice? I finished my rice….. I'm living large in the moment. I'm old, how quick will arsenic kill me? It lingers and takes a long time…. excellent! And one of the side effects? Shiny hair. joy.
This time of the year I spend a great deal of time in the studio…… talking to Self. Self is brilliant!
There is a big mirror in front of my wheel. As I looked up, cutting the 50th mug off the wheel head I caught that crazy person looking back at me. Jesus, get a hair cut and how about those bags under your eyes! Whoa! As the day progressed I remembered all the fuggly hair cuts I've had over the years and all the big bucks spent. Self said: Hey, why don't you cut your own hair? Can it be as bad as the time you had a pixie cut and you were 8 months pregnant? Or the time the hair dresser at Studda Bubba's House of Beauty said: Oh Honey, you need a makeover and perm! I drove up the road and paid another hair person big bucks to fix it. And besides I don't have time to go….. living in the moment of studio insanity. I walked in the house and lopped off my hair. I like it! I went to home depot last night for lumber and paint. On my way to the truck I stopped next door at the dollar hair cut store. It was awesome!!! It was -15 with the wind chill, snow blowing and the women were sitting around reading. I took all my layers off, that took longer than the haircut, and said lop off the back, don't touch anything else and whatever you do don't wet my hair, my mittens could freeze to my hair it I touch it outside and I will never get the keys out of my pocket. She was, like whatever….. whipped out her clippers, grabbed the mirror, spun me around in the chair and said; Like that? No higher and she took another 1" off. I was thrilled and she charged me $5! It's taken me 60 years to live in the moment of coiffeuring my own hair. Yes, couiffeuring is verb!
I've unloaded two full glaze loads of the new stuff. I spent two days at the gallery figuring out how to display this new stuff. I put the place setting for 4 on an old antique walnut table and it was great.
This morning I unloaded another kiln and stacked the dishes on those white benches I made last summer. Wow! They look way better than on that walnut table. There is an opening tonight and an opening on Friday. I am running home after the opening tonight and painting up a table in white wash and installing it for Friday!! Living in the moment has become a lot more work!
and good news …..
the rewired kiln went up last night and worked great!
Yes, I am thankful for working kilns, snow blowers, wood stoves, happy chickens and most of all…….
I dont' live in Buffalo….