The Secret of the Fountain of Youth

Yes, it will be revealed in the comments below. Oops, it’s Facebook that tries to trick you into going down a rabbit hole. I will reveal the secret before this is finished, I promise!

I’m still loving the big free days with few obligations or appointments. After nine months of solo living, I am still not bored or lonely. Although I think Junior is a bit bored with our playtime. The off-leash park has not been open since the July flood–the “regulars” have been sneaking in a back way, on which I don’t trust my agility, so Junior and I get our exercise in the neighborhood, early in the day before temps go into the 90s, or playing “keep-away” with toys inside. He’s still a Very Good Boy.

I have finally found a landscaper, accepted the bid, and now wait and hope the house doesn’t look like Sleeping Beauty’s castle when they arrive–everything is so overgrown.

When not entertaining the dog, I am making art, reading, doing puzzles and hitting some big overdue cleaning jobs, with a white board list of other household tasks that I would like completed by next spring. Jobs like cleaning the garage definitely need to wait till cool weather.

Art and craft: one stitched piece still in slow progress, as well as shawls and scarves for the holiday market. I like to switch back and forth between the different colors and patterns.

I love these colors!

I had fun making a bunch of postcards, all 4×6 inch mixed-media collage. The first three used up some palette knife and finger- painting I had done for another project and didn’t use. They are my colors!

This is one of my favorites. I don’t usually work in deep, rich colors, and I like the connection between the background image, which is Honfleur, France, overlaid with the logo of a hotel in Buenos Aires, both places I have visited.

OK, secret to the Fountain of Youth is denial. I’m at an age that I have myriad physical issues, some of which are worse than others and some of which may eventually kill me. There’s plenty of discomfort and even pain, and I do whatever I can to mitigate it with various remedies, including medications, CBD, ice, exercise. But, whether I pamper my old body or just keep moving doesn’t make much difference, and I’m sure a lot happier if I keep moving. I also sleep better. I once had a doctor who liked to quote what he said was an old Arab proverb: “The secret to a long and happy life is to develop a chronic condition and take good care of it.” I have done this about fourfold, if that helps. So far it’s fairly “long” and quite “happy.”

I’ve had some anxiety about my upcoming travel to Italy, both about language and how my body will hold up. I just finished a book about a couple who bought an ancient cottage in Umbria, and their joys and trials, especially with language. I’ve decided to just roll with it, learn enough Italian to say hello, goodbye, please, thank you, to order coffee, food and wine, and find a bathroom. I will be with a group and a tour guide who can speak for me when my Italian mangles with my tourist French and Spanish. In other words, I plan to have fun and be grateful for a chance to go someplace I’ve always wanted to visit.

If “denial” is a river in Egypt, self-pity is surely a piranha-infested swamp in the Amazon. Now excuse me, I need to reserve my tickets to the Uffizi gallery in Florence.

Windows, Doors, Portals and WIPS

WIPs being, of course, “works in progress,” of which I am one. I have found that now I’m on my own (with just the company of Junior, sleeping beside me at this moment),

having so much “free” time has been a huge adjustment. As I noted in my last post, I feel a need to be productive much of the day. (I will add that I consider sitting on the porch, watching and listening to the birds, to be productive, so it’s not all art and housework.)

I have two “volunteer” jobs: doing the graphics for the Hill Country Chorale, and herding cats, um, the Art Tribe, who are the best, most caring, most fun crowd I have ever had in my life. I can’t imagine life without them, plus art, music and a few other joys I’ll get to.

First art: I ended up doing two “Windows, Doors and Other Portals” large collages. The first one felt too busy yet a bit bland

so I did another, which I like better

I continue to knit shawls and scarves for the Hill Country Arts Foundation’s Christmas Market, and the pile continues to grow, with the olive green one in the WIP basket:

And I’m stitching. This is where I do a lot of my work, watching movies or listening to podcasts, so living room tables suffice for workspace.

I think I’m pacing myself a little better after eight months since granddaughter moved away. (She visited last weekend, which was nice.)

I’m still exercising to get strong for the Italy trip this fall. Trying the almost impossible task of getting workers to do household jobs and yard work. In our beautiful and somewhat affluent community, demand definitely outstrips the supply of willing workers. I had a cleaner who moved away, so I do my own house cleaning, which I kind of enjoy, and vacuuming is pretty good exercise!

Other forms of entertainment: as noted, watching movies and a series on Prime that has me hooked, Monarch of the Glen, what I call a Scottish soap opera. I love the setting and the characters and the drama! I just watched Choral, on Netflix, about the efforts of a Yorkshire choral group to continue performing when many of the men were going off to World War I. As a choral singer I enjoyed that drama as well (and my mother was from Yorkshire.)

Reading is always a priority. I recently subscribed to The Atlantic, and I can see why it’s such a respected magazine. The writing is excellent and the topics varied and interesting. There’s always a stack of other periodicals, and the current book is The Book Club for Troublesome Women. Since the book in question is Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique, I got that from the library as a reference, since I had never read it.

While I wait for the landscaper who promised to come for an estimate this morning (it’s past noon), I’ll share a photo of the xeriscaped yard taken from my neighbor’s lush green St. Augustine lawn.

This is a very strange year for weather in south-central Texas. While other parts of the world/country are suffering under heat domes, fires and floods, we had a wetter than normal spring, which was wonderful for the farms and gardens, and it’s an unusually mild summer. The high today is supposed to be in the upper 70sF. Normally it would be in the high 90s or even over 100F. We have been under a flood watch today, so we are still getting plenty of rain. (I live on a hill, so flooding is not a problem.)

Once again, I am grateful for the good weather, good friends, family, and plenty to keep me busy. To paraphrase one of my favorite Calvin and Hobbes book covers:

My days are too!

The Life We Have

Someone recommended a short documentary film, the name of which I jotted on a scrap of paper. Tidying up and wanting to get rid of bits and pieces of paper, I watched the film. I found it absolutely life-changing.

The 10 years between 2015 and 2025 were really difficult. The past 16 months, after spine surgery, have been challenging and have given me a bit of self-pity. I want to be strong, I want to be able to walk three miles up and down hills like I used to, and now, in my early 80s, I am trying to accept the fact that I have less energy and stamina.

I highly recommend watching this film, The Life We Have, Mortality, Movement & the Richness of Being Alive. It’s on YouTube and it’s only 24 minutes long. Briefly, it’s about a man who had Ewing’s sarcoma and underwent years of treatment and pain. He also ran about 7,000 miles, sometimes accompanied by his mother and brother, through all of that.

After I watched it, I took the dog out for a walk, and since he’s getting old and doesn’t like long walks, I just took off up the alley behind our house, which has a gentle slope, about a five-minute walk each way, while Junior waited in the driveway, confused.

Having fought three bouts of severe coughing, in February, March and much of May, it’s not easy getting back some of the old energy, but I tell myself, “if Rob Shaver could do it with only one working lung….” After you watch the film, read the comments for an update.

Something else that motivates me every day is having at least one big art project going, in addition to small stitching and knitting projects that are always ongoing. This time it’s an 18″x24″ collage tentatively titled “Windows, Doors and Other Portals.” Because I have OCD I tend to be pretty tidy, but lately, especially now that it’s just me and the dog, I have taken over the dining room table. I consider it to be a happy mess and try not to use the word “work.”

The “Yes” paste jar says it all. In the background are a jigsaw puzzle and, in the far-right corner, where I eat and read, is a pile of books and magazines. Beyond that, against the wall, is a white board with lists of household projects.

This year’s postcard swap has been a letdown. Only seven cards so far. One is a commercially printed card, against the rules, and several took very little effort. I love making postcards and I put a lot of effort into them, so I must get joy out of making them and not worry about what I get back.

Should I bust the Coloradoan who cheated? This has been a disappointing swap.

Gratitudes: a mild and wet spring here in the normal desert of south-central Texas; finally not coughing; sweet Junior, who is enjoying his new cooling pads; dear friends; reading, art, music, and living in a place where all this is available; a comfortable home; my family, especially my amazing granddaughter. Today she sent me this picture of flowers from her garden.

Not sure about the jack-o-lantern in the back. That is SO her!

Spring into Summer

This has been a strange year so far. After avoiding illness for many years (except for mild Covid when my husband got it in the nursing home, shortly before he died), I’ve had three respiratory “crud” cases in the past four months. Each time, it’s congestion, drainage and a cough. I missed an art retreat in February because of it, had another round in March, and now I’m on about day 10 with another bout. My theory is this: we’ve had an unusually wet spring (much needed). I think mold allergy starts it and it settles into a cold-like illness. No fever, no other symptoms, just blowing and coughing. Medicine helps, but mostly it just runs its course. After 44 years in Texas, I would think my body would have adjusted by now.

I was well enough to sing in the Hill Country Chorale’s spring program (20th Century jazz: Cole Porter, Irving Berlin and George Gershwin). The fun of performing somehow makes up for the hours and hours of rehearsal. And now I’m doing the design work for next season: posters, postcards and the program cover. Since I’ve been doing mostly personal art for quite a while, it’s fun to get back into graphics, to keep my skills up! I have a new laptop and printer, so I’m ready.

Most of my recent art has been for the twice-yearly ihanna swap, so I will leave you with pictures of this year’s output. I started doing this swap in 2014, and it was my breakthrough to getting back into art. I love making postcards.

I’m not titling most of this batch, but I couldn’t resist a little play on Manet with this: Déjeuner sur l’herbe.
(Mixed media collage with gelli print base)

Collage

Mixed media collage. The envelope with a glimpse of handwriting is from my English cousin Denise.

Mixed media collage with gelli print paper

Collage

Collage

Collage

Collage with gelli print background

A reminder of a visit to Argentina in 2011, on a choir tour with Panoramic Voices. Mercedes is about 100 km from Buenos Aires. Collage with gelli print background

With this peaceful beach scene, I wish you a wonderful summer.
Collage with gelli print background

Up next is another large collage with a working title of “Portals, Doors and Other Escapes.” Watch for that soon!

“Sturmfrei”

Since there are no coincidences, the word above, and the quote below, both happened to pop into my consciousness recently. The quote is from poet and author Charles Bukowski: “When nobody wakes you up in the morning and you can do whatever you want. Is it freedom or loneliness?”

Then I ran across this word, which sounds like the German version of a Chinese dish cooked in a wok.

I am living alone for the first time in many years. It’s been about five months since my granddaughter moved away (she’s doing well and we stay in close touch). For the first time in my life, after years of school, roommates, spouses, kids, other family, jobs, etc., the only firm responsibilities I have are to take care of myself, the dog, and the household.

This is what the past 10 years has included:

• Caring for, from diagnosis in 2018, to his death in 2022, my husband as he declined with Parkinson’s disease, during which time he had other health issues and several surgeries;
• Two moves, one from Austin to this small Hill Country town, the other move just a few blocks. The reason for the second move was that care for the first house, which we loved, was too much for me once Gary got sick. There was a pool and a big yard with lots of trees and the need for a lot of care.
• Raising a granddaughter from ages 8 to 18, with all the challenges of a pre-teen and a teen (and more);
• An auto accident in ’21 that totaled my beloved Hyundai (and the subsequent insurance and car search ordeals);
• Two major surgeries: hip replacement in 2024 and spinal fusion in 2025;
• Of course, like everyone else, the pandemic (with a middle-school-age child);
• The Big Freeze of 2021, when, for five or six days, we had sporadic electricity, but the good fortune of having a wood-burning fireplace (and wood) that we had never used. Gary spent most of the freeze sitting near, and feeding, the fire. One icy day I had to take him to the ER, where kind nurses taught me how to give him shots he needed. I had never given a shot before!

Plus all the normal challenges of living, and aging. That decade was my eightieth, from age 70 to 80!

So this new solitude and autonomy took some getting used to. Fortunately, I enjoy solitude, seldom get lonely and never get bored. I have my art, knitting, stitching, my circle of amazing, caring art friends, good neighbors, and the company of the sweetest dog in the world. I do sometimes feel lonely, but I can call a friend, or just find something to occupy my thoughts. I have noticed that when I am around people I get quite chatty, as though there’s a logjam of words to be released; I also talk to myself (and the dog) a LOT, and I dance around the house and laugh at myself. It helps that it’s spring, and sometimes I sit on the porch and listen to the birds.

Like everyone else, I have enough entertainment through streaming and regular TV, YouTube, Netflix, Prime and so on. I love to read, and we have a great library here. I am re-reading “Project Hail Mary,” because after I saw the movie I wanted to see how much was changed or left out. I’m enjoying the book just as much as I did first time, and I was a little disappointed in the movie. One reason is that I needed subtitles and missed some of the dialogue, especially Sandra Huller’s accent; I will watch it again when it streams. I always have a big to-read pile, and I am trying to “shop” my own library. I have dozens of unread books, some I’ve had since college, and some very challenging: Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy, the Greek philosophers, the complete works of Shakespeare. The first one I rescued was “Daniel Martin,” by John Fowles. I had read “The Magus” and “The French Lieutenant’s Woman,” and I know Fowles’ writing is pretty dense, but it’s well written, and the characters are interesting. The story meanders back and forth through time, but so does “Hail Mary.” I didn’t remember so many flashbacks.

I always have a few art projects (right now a painting); knitting (I’m knitting scarves and shawls that I hope to donate to the Hill Country Arts Foundation for their Christmas market). I always have some stitching going on, and a jigsaw puzzle, and word games online or on paper, I like The New Yorker’s “Shuffalo.” And of course, daily Jeopardy!

Trying to get strong, 14 months after spine surgery, I decided to get a trainer. I lucked out, finding him on NextDoor! I really like him, and I definitely notice some progress. I have booked a trip to Italy in the fall and I want to walk around Rome and Florence without pain.

I even changed my hairstyle a little–length and color are similar, but I’ve gone from a sleek bob to the more shaggy layered cut. One of my friends said she thought the new look had changed my attitude, and I told her it was the other way around: I am breaking out of some old ruts, and it’s fun! The photos show the newish hairstyle (with a hint of blue chalk on the top), and how I blinged up a denim jacket.

Even though I’m not much of a gardener, I have planted a few seeds and some impatiens on the porch:

Peas–granddaughter left a lot of seeds, so I planted a vegetable I actually like. I’m reverting to the fussy eater I was as a child:

I’m treating myself to fresh flowers:

I wish I could claim credit for the beautiful encaustic painting; I bought it from Austin artist Daphne Holland. I love it very much.

Overall, I’ll take the German sturmfrei rather than Bukowsky’s negativity. Junior doesn’t even wake me up in the morning; he waits quietly until I wake up. Perfect dog. He recently had his teeth cleaned and 11 removed. He’s much happier and smells so much better! He’s 12; may he live many more years.

Junior, they don’t have any smell!

Moving on

Having spent the last week of February at home with just me, my dog and a horrible cough, I’m happy to move into a new month. March in this part of the country is usually pleasant, with Texas laurel, redbud and other early bloomers in full display, followed, if we’re lucky, by bluebonnets and other wildflowers. But the winter has been so dry it will probably not be a good year for wildflowers.

Sadly, I missed the weekend creative arts retreat that I was really looking forward to. But even with the awful cold/cough, I didn’t feel too bad, and I enjoyed time making art, knitting, reading and enjoying big empty days. My knitting projects are mostly WIPs right now (works in progress), but I did a couple of decoupage pieces that were fun. Cutting and pasting is so basic, like being back in first grade.

This was a barrel-shaped box that I glued shut, so it serves absolutely no purpose other than a piece of art. I haven’t named it.

Being sick must have brought out my morbid side. I have collected dirty, ragged cigarette boxes after I found the first Chinese packs some years ago. Trying to decide what to do with them, I thought about combining a deadly product with actual reminders of death: memento mori. The original box had contained a jigsaw puzzle, and what’s more puzzling than contemplating our own demise?

The lining of the box

My art group is looking at a possible gallery show in one of the local arts centers next year. I am planning a big trip later this year, so I’m getting out of my rut. The chorale’s classical music festival is this weekend, and I think my voice will be ready.

Reading: The Prodigal Tongue, by Lynne Murphy, a somewhat academic book about the differences/conflicts between English English and American English; Daniel Martin, by John Fowles, an oldie I pulled off the shelf. Fowles can be a tough read (e.g. The Magus), but this is pretty accessible so far.

Watching/not watching: I had the disastrous State of the Union on TV but muted. I cannot stand the sound of that man’s voice. And now he’s getting us into another endless Middle East War. What I am watching: Jeopardy! of course; Stephen Colbert, a voice of sanity and reason, with great guests; and SNL for the opening and Weekend Update. And, this surprises me: I’m getting hooked on Landman. It’s so gritty, so true (as far as I can tell) to the challenges and horrors of working in the oil patch. I find Billy Bob Thornton a fascinating actor, and he absolutely nails this character.

Hope spring is on its way wherever you are (or autumn if you’re in the antipodes), and that you can find joy despite the many ways the world is making that hard right now.

Stuck in Feb…

-ruary. Isn’t it funny that the shortest month is actually the longest for many people? The holidays are over, winter drags on and, here in south-central Texas, we’ve had an unusual number of sub-freezing days. At least we’re better off than much of the East and Midwest, where people are snowbound without electricity. After our snow and ice disaster in February of 2021, we’re relieved that the power stayed on. https://wigginswordsandimages.wordpress.com/2021/02/

Being housebound doesn’t usually bother me. I have the dog, a gas fireplace, friends to talk to, Netflix and other streaming services, plenty of puzzles, books, food, art and craft projects, chorale music to practice…the days are full! But after being so productive in January, February finds me at loose ends.

The big sympathy card collage turned out so well, and I found the perfect spot to hang it in my bedroom, that I got going on another big collage, which also makes me happy. Running out of room, I am thinking about showing my art with the possibility of selling it (which feels like selling my babies!). My art friends advise, that when putting art in a show, price it so high nobody will buy it.

The sympathy card collage, near the poster for Gary’s final show

“Blue is Everything,” mixed media collage, 18×24″, on repurposed canvas showing bits of an old unfinished painting of my granddaughter’s, on which she painted “blue is everything.”

Continuing with the blues, I finished another shawl and started a scarf in the same pattern. I like the pattern and the yarn so much that I’m going to keep making and donating them to the Hill Country Arts Foundation holiday market, with all proceeds going to HCAF, which suffered severe damage in the July 4 flood. (Miraculously, the art gallery, full of new art for a show, was spared.)

I tried it on to make sure it’s long enough. I absolutely love the colorway.

Not so sure about this one. Instead of the usual gradual color shifts, at one point it abruptly shifted to the solid blue. I’ll keep going for a while and, if I don’t like it, rip it out and try something else. The donated scarves and shawls will be in the same pattern and yarn, but in different colors, lengths and widths.

So here I am between projects. I usually have new ideas as I’m finishing an art piece, but I’m stuck. I don’t want to keep repeating the colorful 18 x 24 repurposed canvas collages. I’m playing around with sketching and color ideas. I’m going to a creative arts retreat in a few weeks, so I need to have something ready to work on!

I also want to get back to writing my memoir. I have several books–Your Life is a Book (Peterson and Freymann) and Suleika Jaouad’s Book of Alchemy–and some draft chapters in a computer folder. I know the only way to write is butt in chair and fingers on keyboard!

One way to get started is to make a timeline. I got out an old project binder and discovered a very ragged and torn piece of paper with–lo and behold!–a timeline. My problem isn’t content–I still have those lifelong memories, which is one reason to do this now while I still DO have them. The problem is format. Eight decades makes for a long piece of paper. A graph? An Excel spreadsheet? So I just contemplate.

Now I need to practice music for today’s rehearsal. We missed last week because of the freeze, so it’s catch-up time. Hope everyone is safe and warm and looking forward to spring!

Fresh Start, or Same-Old-Same-Old?

This was going to be the final post for this blog. I haven’t been very consistent about posting, and I was planning on posting my art and other images on Facebook. But I am so tired of the garbage on Facebook that I’m cutting back on using it as much as possible. It’s a good way to stay in touch with those who are far away, and I do enjoy that, since I have friends and family scattered across the globe, but the ads, AI slop and misinformation can be overwhelming.

It’s a dilemma, since I would still share on FB. I can’t promise more frequent blog postings. At my age, living alone and retired, I try not to make commitments and promises I might not be able to keep.

Here’s an update on art and other activities since my last post. The holidays were good this year, except that my older daughter was sick, and we postponed our Christmas Eve cookie decorating for a few days. The family still made a lovely mess.

Some of us had other priorities (I bake ahead of time, then drink wine while they decorate)

Since I no longer had my granddaughter to help trim the big tree, I didn’t do much decorating–just some wreaths and small trees. I always put up my bird tree and its very special cloth!

I spent a day and a night in Austin and had a wonderful afternoon visiting old friends, catching up outdoors on their patio on an unseasonably warm Christmas day.

Moving into 2026, nearly a year after my spine surgery, I am beginning to realize that I’m about where I was before the surgery, and I must accept having chronic pain from now on. It’s very frustrating, since the original disc injury happened in 1995 and and it was covered by workers’ compensation, no help now!

I have a white board on the refrigerator on which I write the words of the day–what I think is important to focus on that day. “Mindfulness” is always #1, and today’s second word is “acceptance.” I am trying to get stronger, more flexible (which I’ve never been), and keep a positive attitude. Junior and I still go to the dog park nearly every day, even though our visits are getting shorter.

Sunrise at Flat Rock Park

I sang with the local community chorale for its annual Christmas concert, as well as doing The Messiah with the symphony, and a sing-along Messiah after Christmas. The spring season rehearsals begin this week, with a classical concert in March, and a “pops” concert in April, which will feature the music of George Gershwin, Cole Porter and Irving Berlin. That should be great fun. I have to push myself to keep going, with rehearsals, practice at home, and a sometimes difficult concert schedule, but I think of it as good medicine. Singing with others is both socially and physically beneficial.

As always, my art group gatherings and art and knitting are also therapy. I listen to podcasts or watch movies or series while I knit. I read a lot and always have various kinds of puzzles going.

Having a large collection of sympathy cards after Gary died and wondering what to do with them, I decided that since I’m a collage artist I would make them into a collage.

Collage and acrylic on repurposed canvas, 18×24 inches

A stitched square that I realized was about the river and July 4 floods. after it was finished:

Six by six inch stitched square, fabric, ribbon, sari ribbon and beads

More knitting. A friend wanted me to knit a blue hat, so I went on a blue hat binge. Then she didn’t like herself in a knitted hat so these will be given away:

I love this olive green wrap. I like the pattern so much I’m making another one in blues and purples:

Knitting basket with several WIPs (works in progress, aka UFOs, unfinished objects):

Finally, I did the ihanna postcard swap in November, and received nine cards (disappointing, since I sent out 10):

Only today did I realize that the middle one, from Montana, has two images of Montana!

The cards are from all over the United States. I sent several to other countries–to Canada, Austria and Sweden–as well as in the U.S. I hope to get the missing tenth one some day, maybe from someplace far away.

I’m not optimistic about the state of the country and the world, but I wish everyone a good 2026.

Dry Spell

Ironically, after the devastating July 4 flooding in our area, we have been in fairly serious drought. We’re supposed to get rain tonight, and I’m looking forward to having a full rain barrel tomorrow. (Preferably rain without thunder, so Junior and I can get a good night’s sleep. The morning of July 4, when storms lingered over the Hill Country between midnight and 5 a.m., we got very little sleep, and I woke up to someone texting me to see if I was ok before I even knew about the floods. We live uphill from the river, so we were fine.)

I’m going through a bit of an artistic dry spell myself, which is puzzling. I’m still in the long recovery from January’s spine surgery, but at least I’m making progress. My granddaughter moved out a few weeks ago*, and I thought that would inspire more studio time. But it’s kind of the opposite. It dawned on me that I had not lived alone in nearly 30 years, and it took a little while to adjust to the idea. (Of course I still have my furry four-legged companion, thank heavens.)

With updating to Windows 11, I’ve had some computer/printer challenges that are frustrating and annoying. I don’t feel bad about not doing much art. I think sometimes we need to lie fallow, like farmers’ fields. I have been cleaning and organizing around the house, now that it’s just me. I get out with the dog every day. I’m singing in the community chorale, and with three fall concerts (including parts of “The Messiah,” with the symphony in a few weeks), it’s been a lot of rehearsal time.

I’ll share what little I have done, and some fall color, such as it is in south-central Texas!

I’ve always been interested in John Scopes and the trial, so when I saw this image I made it into a card, with information on the back about it. Unfortunately, we are still fighting that battle. (5×7 collage)

One more meditation card (5×7 collage)

Knitted items to give away: violet kid-size hat, scarves and dish/washcloths

Not quite finished hat, for one of my art group friends. It will be ready to give to her tomorrow when we meet. Last week she asked a group member who crochets to make her a hat, and she was told yes, but she’d have to wait, so I piped up and said “I’ll knit you a hat,” and I gave her a choice of colors. I think this deep blue will suit her. We have returned to the community center that was flood-damaged, and we were fortunate to have a member who provided space for us to meet through those four months.

My family and some friends will be here for Thanksgiving, so I need to revive my cooking energy. The ihanna postcard swap will start soon, and I have my 10 cards ready.

What passes for fall color here, across the street from me.

We’ve had some really cool foggy mornings, and the dog park is so pretty in the fog.

Junior getting muddy in the fog. We are back at the dog park and I don’t mind the mud.

If you’re in the U.S., I wish you a happy Thanksgiving!

* Granddaughter is happy and doing well. After 10 years of her being with us/me, I’m glad to see her launching into adulthood!

Soul-saving Art

I’ve been slow to keep updating this blog. It’s been a tough few weeks um months um year. With slightly cooler weather, slow recovery from spine surgery, possible med changes, things are going better. Mostly I have had some free days to spend making art, reading, piddling around and taking naps–exactly what I’ve needed. (Update on the dog park situation at the end.)

After the devastating July 4 flooding in the Texas Hill Country, I wanted to create a piece of art to memorialize the losses and the resurgence of the Guadalupe River and the communities it affects. Since I love creative stitchery, this piece is mostly stitched (with a tiny bit of glue where necessary).

I even found some wall space for it, under my nine “Hundred Views of Edo” cards by Hiroshige.

A postcard and some meditation cards:

4×6 postcard, mixed media collage. Really clever title: “RWB”

Two similar meditation cards, 5×7 collage. The one with the women tugging on the rope is for a friend, who gave me the original card from which I cut the image. (It was a sort of “you go, girl” card.)

This is what I call “mindless” stitching. The fabric is printed with the design and I just stitch over parts of it to enhance the colors. I’ll probably use it as a doily or coaster.

My granddaughter planted a garden earlier in the summer, and I’ve been able to cut a few zinnias and cosmos:

OK, doggie update, if you’re wondering how things turned out after the last post, “Paradise Spoiled.”

It’s been so up and down, back and forth, two steps forward and one back (like my life in general right now), that I’ve hesitated to assume anything. The first day trial going to the big open park was a disaster. As soon as I took the leash off, Junior tried to go to the car (which was parked on a busy street!). So I tried the big manicured park, where we had often approached from home, so he decided he wanted to head home from there. Unfortunately, the car was on the opposite side of the park from the route home, and if I let him walk from there I’d have to walk back later to get the car! Way more walking than I can manage now. So I dragged/coaxed him to the car.

Since then we returned to the off-leash park, with results all over the place: some days he wouldn’t leave the parking lot. Other times he’d stay on the upper part, on the walking track, rather than go near the river. And lately he’s gone back into the river, which means I have to clean him up and dry him both before getting in the car and again more thoroughly when we get home. But you know what? That’s ok. We’re out there enjoying the river, the fresh air and exercise. And lately it’s been getting light so late that the we’re arriving before sunrise, and the egrets are flying to the river from their roosts in the woods. It is magical–they’re like commuters coming in to work, then gathering on the river for a meeting. An egret in flight is utterly beautiful.

So that’s where things stand. There have been no gunshots while we’ve been there, but the parking lot has been re-graveled, and tires make a popping sound that scared Junior until he got used to it. Dove season ends tomorrow, but I think there’s another season in the winter.

Lots of other good things, especially in the arts. There are so many activities going on in Kerrville it’s impossible to catch them all–October-fests, street festivals, Halloween events, even a showing of “The Rocky Horror Picture Show” with a shadow cast and all the props and special effects. (Sadly I’ll miss this one). Tomorrow is the grand reopening of our beautiful Cailloux performing arts center, with a program of Scottish music and dance, so I’ll enjoy bagpipes and men in kilts! Sunday it’s “The Mousetrap,” Agatha Christie’s longest running play of all time. It has a great cast, and I’m looking forward to learning about the secret surprise ending!

Then it’s chorale season! Next week we’re doing a concert of the music of Andrew Lloyd Webber (which I like less and less the more I rehearse it!). Then in December we’re singing parts of “The Messiah” with the symphony, followed by our regular Christmas program! Three concerts in one season is a lot of singing, but it’s sort of good medicine for me. And good people. Choral singers are like gardeners and dog lovers–good, caring people.

My granddaughter’s and daughter’s birthdays are in early in November… then we’re into the holidays!