My Toes

You never know how badly something can hurt until you do an action you never intended to do and injure an odd part of your body in a place usually not touched.

While wandering around the house in my bare feet (as usual) in the complete light of day, I mashed my pinkie toe on the leg of a chair. My toe is very, very sore. Do you have any idea just how much you use that toe for balance? Well, neither did I...well, maybe I did.

Can you notice that the toe next to my pinkie is a little crooked? Aren't you the least bit curious why? The reason is that many moons ago I loved to play sports. I was one of those who loved gym class, even when it was first period. One time while trying to spike a volleyball over a net, I came down on that toe. (This would really be very funny if you knew just how tall I am. Remember, in our salad days, we think anything is possible.)

When I came down on that toe, it couldn't support me. ("No kidding," you say.) Since it couldn't support me, I fell down screaming. I yanked off my white sneakers and gym socks and saw my fourth toe standing straight up in the air at a right angle to the rest of my toes. I was in pain. I had dislocated my toe. I remember that the doctor pushed it back in place and set it with a tongue depressor. I walked around with a stiff knee for a few days because I was afraid that bending it would damage my toe.

I recovered. I played more volleyball. And basketball (I won the foulshooting championship more than once) and softball (second base). But I never tried to spike again. And my toe ended up crooked.

I think I'll go ice my pinkie again. Tomorrow I have to wear business shoes.

Oh, I've been so bad!

Well, I just got busy and haven't been writing.

Open Studios came first. The Artist actually did very well. We moved the gallery indoors this year and people could really hear the instruments. One of my long-time favorites, The Songcatcher was sold. I used to sit here at the computer and catch glances up at his calm, reverent, face. But, no longer. I do miss him.

Then, we had a yard sale of many of Mother of the Artist's belongings. Silverwear, kitchen stuff, old towels. You know what I mean. Even her old dresser. We did OK and buyers did OK. We didn't sell her TV, but I refused to take it to Goodwill. Then, a couple weeks later, one of our yardsale visitors called us up to see if we still had it. It was a great deal for us both! "Three-year-old 32 inch Sony Trinitron used by an old lady to watch The Price is Right and Giants baseball."

Next, I finally got the closet in my guest room/studio. What prompted the wonderful completion by The Artist was that I got some free very nice cabinets at work. They sat in the garage during Open Studios. Then, it rained. Well it's OK to rain once or even twice, but I wanted my car to be in the garage over winter. After all, it's almost 20 years old. So, The Artist installed them and really made the room look finished. He's so talented.

And then, I finished my book...

It's time for (CCSCC) Open Studios

The Artist at Work

This is the most exciting, exhausting and extravagant time of year for all artists in our small county. It's Open Studios time! The Artist is just one of many very good artists in our county who has been selected to participate in opening his studio to the public. In order to receive this opportunity to make a little cash (without the county requiring them to take out a special license), 300 artists were selected by application, after applying to the Cultural Council last April. It really is a very good deal for both the artists and the public.

The event is separated into the North County and South County weekends, with the third weekend designated as "encore" weekend where all studios are open. The Artist and I use the South County weekend to go on a sightseeing tour around the county and visit the most remote studios. I save up my money all year to spend at this event.

Today, The Artist and I visited (in this order) an oil painter, a glassblowing couple, the Artmaps creator, a double-sided ceramic bowl maker, a raku ceramicist, a lamp glass maker, a potter of garden pots, and a plein air oil painter. We had a great time, but we are exhausted. I am monetarily poorer for the experience, but richer in knowledge and spirit. I had always wanted to visit the glassblowers, especially because I received a piece of theirs at an auction last year.

This week will be a challenge getting ready for the North County. Clean the house, prune the garden, make everything look presentable. Most of this unfortunately falls on The Artist because I'm off to bed.

Fruits of the Garden

My minimalist garden is really bearing fruit. For the first time ever, I have not planted too much. I have so little that I still have to go to the Farmers' Market. However, what I have is good. I have two barely producing tomato plants, Early Girl, and I think, Sun something. I also have a very nice crop of beans.

I just love fresh green beans and this year I planted the beans from seeds I saved from last year or so. I had no idea what they were. One hill popped right up and started climbing up the redwood poles that The Artist put out for them. The others had a much more difficult time of it, but two finally took off. I didn't realize it until tonight, but the two others in the second hill were really bush beans, not pole beans. However, the pole beans turned out to be Kentucky Wonder, yum, yum!

The first, fast-growing hill of pole beans had me puzzled. I had never had those beans before. Wide, bumpy, long beans from white flowers. I remembered that I had once had some scarlet runner bean seeds, so I looked them up in the Sunset Gardening Book (the bible of Western gardening) and sure enough. Scarlet runner beans can have either red or white flowers.

The scarlet runner are really good beans, but I can understand why they aren't grown commercially. The pods are all different sizes, and it makes cooking them difficult. But they are really good. Very meaty with big seeds. Sunset says they can be substituted for lima beans when they get big. But raw or steamed, they are great!

In my photo, the scarlet runner are in front and on the right. The Kentucky Wonder are on the left.

Open Studios Reception

Life With an Artist means attending all The Artist's shows and functions. Today was a big one, the annual Open Studios Preview Reception. Here's The Artist with his piece, the Lutrell Harp. He took his own stand this year so that the piece would be close to being at the correct height. The life of this Artist is that pieces are not always hung in galleries at the correct height to see the details. This year, after arguing with sponsors for too many years on whether his preview piece could be longer than 36" (which many of them are) and then having it either hung in a strange place, like at the end of a wall or at a height that only a 6' tall person could see it, The Artist decided to enter a floor piece. It worked! (The Artist is actually sitting down here.)

The Artist is getting a white stripe in his hair. It adds to his artiness.

It's always great to see so many people we know in one place and it's always a high spot of the year socially for us, even if it was a little chilly today. The fog was in. The gallery only holds about half the people who attend, so the food tent is outside. Many of the people from the hills didn't make it in. Why should they, if it's 80 there and 50 in town?

An artitious time was had by all.

A Tribute and a Huge Change in our Lives

Mother of the Artist did not make it. She passed away Thursday evening, September 4 in the Emergency Department of the hospital where I work.

She was such a neat lady. 91 years old. Raised two fine artist sons. Brought up by her grandparents in lumber camps in Eastern Oregon, she spent one winter living in a converted boxcar. I always thought that was so cool, and even did a painting of what was left of the sawmill when we visited what was left of the town several years ago. (No boxcars then and very little track.) I think she was rather embarrased about it. She once described to me how there was a living room and a bedroom and a kitchen with a bathtub all laid out in the boxcar.

The Artist will no longer begin his week with the "Mom runs" to get her groceries on Mondays.

The Artist and I had her record into the computer some answers to questions last Christmas. That just amazed her. ("How does that work?" "It's magic, mom.") We would sit her down with one of us and get her to tell us what message she wanted to send someone. Then we'd email it. It's hard to imagine that someone could not really fathom how computers work in the least nor even give a whit, but she didn't. Even solitaire with a mouse was a little too much to handle. Give her playing cards and a bridge hand any day.

So here's to Mom. Chocolate-lover, Price is Right fan, San Francisco Giants devotee, insatiable romance novel reader ("but not those historicals"), indefatiguable bridge player and independent woman, mother and homemaker. Always a big smile and never a bad word about anyone. Proud that she never used a walker!

We will miss you so much and will love you forever.

A Long and Difficult Month

Life's a beach, and sometimes it's not.

It's been a difficult three weeks for The Artist and me. His mom was ill, recovered and became ill again with a different problem. She's getting better, but at 91, it takes a long time. She's so used to being independent and wants to return home, but must spend some time in a rehab center to build up her strength.

Making sure she's taken care of, visiting her and cheering her on to keep her spirits up and make her eat has taken a lot out of us. As my very good friend (who has two aging parents) says, there's a lot of mental stress. "Who will take care of me when I'm their age, since I have no children?"

Fortunately, she has a strong will to live. We long for her to return to her apartment and life to return to the way it was before she became ill. Secretly, we know that it will probably not happen exactly like that.

Work has been very hard and very difficult. Projects are due sooner, new projects appear from the ether to be fit in to normal workflow and more is expected with less staff. I try to tell myself that it is not age, just work, but my self-image suffers. I expect it to get harder and more difficult.

The show circuit has stunk this summer. The Artist has not done well, but neither have many other craft artists. Sometimes it's like that. The Economy.

So, what cheers us up? When the sun's out. Good food (but not too much of it). Reading. Working in the shop. Talking with friends.