Today

Today was just a beautiful day. Sunny, seventies. I slept late and then worked in the garden until 1:30. Picked up kids, went for a nature walk with neighbors. Later, had champagne on the patio and then yummy leftovers. As Roo would say - it was just the best day ever.

Mondays

I know Monday has a bad rep, but I am beginning to love Mondays. Some of mine are free of obligation, others are very busy.

A month or so ago on a free Monday, I twisted Papa's arm to go to our local farmer's market with me. He seemed uncomfortable with the whole process, but loved all the loot. He might have enjoyed it a little more the second time. Then the next week I had to spend all Monday afternoon in meetings, and, amazingly, he offered to go solo. I don't think he wanted to face Monday night without fresh salmon and good veggies. His grilled salmon is really good. Or maybe he just knew I would be happy?

Today, little Roo was puny and stayed with me. Papa went to farmer's. So tonight we ate our wonderful grilled salmon, steamed fresh white beets, sauteed kale from our garden, and salad from our garden. Oh, and cheese grits - that's polenta for those of you who don't understand grits.

I am happy. And we have more for tomorrow:)

PS

I've already posted tonight. But as I began the PC shut down process, I realized that a Ken doll has been adding to the inconvenience of trying to read my monitor around and between my cat's ears.

Not wanting to deal with putting Ken away (the Scarlet syndrome has been over riding my usual need for order), I pushed my chair back and ran over two naked Barbies and a pile of clothes for same. And purses, and shoes, and blow-up furniture.

And then I thought of Roo and smiled.

I turned to read the words I've written on large, lined, bright orange sticky sentence paper. They are stuck to my studio storage baskets and read: I like ants! Let's get ants. Let's pet the ants. Oh! Do not pet ants! Draw about ants. Tell me about ants.

And then I remembered the ant farm I've just rid of dead ants and the frog habitat with a live froglet lining my kitchen counter - along with ant farming tools. And I thought of Buddy and smiled.

I am so glad I am a grandmother. Just had to say that before going to bed.

I'll clean it all up tomorrow.

Yes to Dessert

I know it doesn't make sense; I know it is insane. But I just rewarded myself for several pounds weight loss with dessert. Doesn't sound all that bad until you multiply that by three.

We were to take dessert to my friend's house on Wednesday night. She was making dinner, we handled dessert. So I made delicious strawberry napoleons. And of course I soaked the strawberries in Amaretto. Well, of course. But see, the problem is that the recipe made enough for six servings instead of four. And even then some of the cream filling was left over. So we ate the dessert at my friend's house on Wednesday. Nobody left even a smear of cream or chocolate or a crumb of pastry. I would have taken the other two servings to the friends, but I hadn't decorated them. They weren't pretty. Very naked. So those two servings called to us, haunting us all day on Thursday. We ate them last night, leaving the little bowl of cream filling, a little chocolate sauce, and a few strawberries in the fridge to drive us both crazy. So tonight? I sliced and soaked the strawberries - Amaretto of course. I put them into two little ramekins and topped them with the cream filling. Then I spiked the chocolate sauce and topped off our little parfaits. They were small.

So I figure that life is too short not to sin sometimes. Furthermore, it would have been a sin to waste all that fabulousness. Yes? Oh my gosh! That dessert was so good. I may like it even better without the pastry. But now it is all gone. I no longer must suffer the torment of temptation.

So now I want someone to absolve me. Please. If you do, I will make spiked strawberry napoleons for you.

I did walk tonight - and have every night. Is that enough penance?

Must I confess that I ate a pastry at French class this morning? That I supplied? It was my turn. Oh dear. But it was breakfast. I saved up.

Role Model and Other Assorted Thoughts

I'll get to the role model part in a minute. First I have to say that I had five hours worth of meetings today. That may sound awful, but I am thrilled. A project my committee worked on for many hours was totally supported by our board today. If I were a little more agile, I would dance a fancy jig. Happy happy happy.

The next thing I want to share about my happy day is that when I returned from all my meetings after 5:30, Papa had shopped the local farmer's market for fresh wild salmon and assorted veggies. He had also been to the grocery store for items he couldn't buy at farmer's. He had the salmon ready to go on the grill and had picked lettuce from our garden. He had even washed the lettuce.

He poured wine, I chilled for a few, then put asparagus on to roast (with tangerine olive oil) while he grilled. I made salad. Poof! We had just about the most delicious meal I have had in a while - or at least in a couple of days - he grilled chicken just a few days ago. Anyway - it was all pure pleasure. And we have salmon planovers for tomorrow night - probably will serve that with fresh beets. Yum.

OK. Now to the role model. An artist in our art association currently has a show up in a downtown gallery. I figured she had to be at least eighty; I met her son when she was featured artist at our gallery and he looks like he may be close to sixty. So it figures. Anyway, her artwork looks current. It is abstract. Not one of her pieces looks like it was painted by a little old lady. Furthermore the woman dresses with class. She does not wear old lady pants or doily collars. Or polyester anything. Her gait is youthful. She attends our meetings. She serves as docent in our gallery. We worked together there a few weeks ago, and we talked nonstop all afternoon. She is interesting. The only clues to aging are her cute little eyes, a few little age spots, and the fact that she didn't always hear what I said. But I don't hear well either - so that is no biggy. I had to repeat just a couple of times. In our conversation, I discovered that she has a website and aggressively markets her work. I know that she travels some.

Friday night I stopped by the reception for her new show. It ran from six to nine. When we arrived shortly after eight, she was still standing (in pretty red shoes on a concrete floor) and talking to guests. Her face was bright and her discussion lively. She looked adorable - and, as usual - classy. Her hair is stylish, though snowy white. At that reception I found out that she is 87. Oh, my.

So she is hands down the winner for my new role model. She is amazing. If I can't match her, at least I have something to aim for.

Enthusiastic Encaustics

Our Enthusiastic Encaustics show opened at the San Luis Obispo Art Center last night. About twenty small paintings make up the exhibit in the tiny upstairs gallery. I discovered earlier that they hung my diptych incorrectly and thought I was going to be really upset with the way it was hung. Actually, it looks OK, but it doesn't make a lot of sense. At least one viewer noticed and figured out how the diptych was supposed to be arranged. I overheard.

Overall I am happy with the show and hope we will have more.

Of course - no camera:(

Roo often says no, but usually not in defiance. Over the years, if one of the grandchildren were to say no in response to my request for action, I would likely remind him/her that "you don't say no" to Gaga or most other grown-ups - in a pleasant way, of course. And they usually then do what I have asked. Roo usually complies, sometimes begrudgingly. Buddy looks crushed to have been reprimanded.

So late Sunday afternoon, Roo, Buddy, and I were crowded into my laundry room, a closet, really. It is quite small. I was folding clothes, Buddy was rummaging through a stash of salad containers and boxes (I save them for him.) to find one that could serve as a lizard habitat, and I think Roo wandered in to be with everyone.

Because I had a little pile of Roo's clothes ready to pack, I handed them to her and asked her to take them to the living room and put them by her duffle bag. "No." I asked again. "No." Well, hmmmm. I don't usually let her get by with that, but I knew she was very tired and hungry. And I didn't want her to be grumpy for the last hour or so of her visit. We had had a grand time and I hated for it to end on a sour note. So I thought a few seconds then quietly said, "Roo, I am going to give you a pass on that today. I think you must have forgotten that when I ask you to do something, you need to do it. Next time you come to Gaga's I want you to remember that." I felt like I had caved, but maybe not totally. So Roo prissed out of the laundry closet. I kept folding clothes and Buddy kept plundering, at one point muttering in disgust, "This is just a one person room." In a few seconds Roo reappeared. "Actually I decided I wanted to take my clothes to the living room." I was amazed.