In Which Poppi Explains A Hip Replacement To A Fairly Bright Eleven-Year-Old
Garrett recieves a fat envelope containing a letter written in pencil on sheets of drawing paper. He is entranced by the drawings, the explainations and the wry humor. I'm either lucky or selective: I have no men without a sense of humor in my life, though I hear that they exist.
We're winding down the spring semester, gearing up for summer madness. The good news is that I just discovered a dog-sitter, and so can travel with impunity, if I can dig my impunity out of whatever closet it's been buried in these many moons.
I just finished my third screen. I’ve been taking a class in screen painting, which is as close as Baltimore gets to a native folk-art form. Tradition dictates a landscape of some sort, usually with a cottage worked in, usually red, and water, in the form of a pond, lake, or stream. Beach scenes are not preferred. Naturally, I had to turn the idea on its head and my first screen, the one for my front door, was a take on Picasso's Femme a la Fleur. Then nothing would do but window screens for my bedroom, and the childrens'. I let the kids select from a book of Matisse. They chose Icarus. Hawk preferred Miro’s Daybreak to his Woman In Front of the Sun. Unfortunately, I realized after becoming attached to these images that the screens in question were horizontal, not vertical. So I adapted the paintings, rather than my plan.
Maybe when Cory gets back from Mozambique and Guam, or wherever she is, she'll take pictures of my house and post them. Because I am still a techno-tard and can’t do it on my own, plus that whole I-don t-have-a-digital-camera-and-there-are-so-many-to-choose-from-that-even-shopping-for-one-is-intimidating thing.
My sister the athlete will be competing, but I look forward to meeting new people and drinking bubbly wine at my cousin's wedding in June. It occurs to me that I have not spent any quality time with my cousin since we've reached the age of majority, and have thus missed out on serious drinking-together time. Which I hope to remedy. I will participate in barhopping, and I will drink! With impunity!
Well, provided I can find my impunity.
We're winding down the spring semester, gearing up for summer madness. The good news is that I just discovered a dog-sitter, and so can travel with impunity, if I can dig my impunity out of whatever closet it's been buried in these many moons.
I just finished my third screen. I’ve been taking a class in screen painting, which is as close as Baltimore gets to a native folk-art form. Tradition dictates a landscape of some sort, usually with a cottage worked in, usually red, and water, in the form of a pond, lake, or stream. Beach scenes are not preferred. Naturally, I had to turn the idea on its head and my first screen, the one for my front door, was a take on Picasso's Femme a la Fleur. Then nothing would do but window screens for my bedroom, and the childrens'. I let the kids select from a book of Matisse. They chose Icarus. Hawk preferred Miro’s Daybreak to his Woman In Front of the Sun. Unfortunately, I realized after becoming attached to these images that the screens in question were horizontal, not vertical. So I adapted the paintings, rather than my plan.
Maybe when Cory gets back from Mozambique and Guam, or wherever she is, she'll take pictures of my house and post them. Because I am still a techno-tard and can’t do it on my own, plus that whole I-don t-have-a-digital-camera-and-there-are-so-many-to-choose-from-that-even-shopping-for-one-is-intimidating thing.
My sister the athlete will be competing, but I look forward to meeting new people and drinking bubbly wine at my cousin's wedding in June. It occurs to me that I have not spent any quality time with my cousin since we've reached the age of majority, and have thus missed out on serious drinking-together time. Which I hope to remedy. I will participate in barhopping, and I will drink! With impunity!
Well, provided I can find my impunity.
posted by Cybele at 10:43 AM
1 Comments:
Very excited that at least ONE of my cousins is coming to my wedding. I mean, really! You can do that tri-whatchamacallit every year, right? How many times does a cousin get married?? Well, ok, twice, but only twice.
Top #1 Favorite Cousin - when will you be getting into town? If you arrive Friday, you can join me and my 'Maid of Honor' in a little pre-wedding bar hopping, which is really just an excuse to look for men in kilts (the 1st Annual Greenville Scottish Highlands Festival was courteous enough to import men in kilts for my last night as a free woman - woohoo!)
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